The Mixed Feeding Flock

Painted Nudibranch Kawaihae  November 2020

    Last Friday we met our friends at Kawaihae.  It is  a shame to be so jaded by the wonders of this place that two species of nudibranchs and a handsome brown sea fan waving amid some fine living coral has become sort of ho hum. In fact, you guys are being exposed to a plethora of nudibranch and seafan pictures and you may be getting bored with them, as well.  Shame on all of us! 

    Of these wonders, I'm sharing a picture of a small painted nudibranch, less than an inch in length, that was captured in remarkable focus, and a video of the feather duster worm, nestled among the living coral, waving back and forth in the  gentle swell.  If you work it just right, perhaps you can play this video while you go to sleep and it will usher you peacefully into the land of nod.

    (Due to the vagaries of this medium the video of the tube worm appears at the end of the blog.)

   The pillars where the nudibranchs live are covered with sponges, hydroids and a variety of other so called fouling organisms.  By and large these all look like plants.  However, in the sea, virtually everything turns out to be an animal.  A lot of these small critters do not photograph well.  On this day

Blue Fan Bryozoan, Kawaihae Harbour, November 20202

 I got an acceptable picture of a small round organism, with branching arms, called a blue fan bryozoan.  It reminds me a bit of lichen, if one needs to find a visual comparison from the terrestrial world.  Our friend John Hoover tells us that bryozoans are actually more advanced than corals.  To the uninitiated, corals look like rocks while these guys look like primitive plants.  So I guess from that standpoint it might be expected.

    That was Friday, and as you all know, Sandra and I tend not to go to the beach on weekends, when the multitudes emerge from their working worlds to descend upon the shoreline.  You may wonder, with the advent of  tourist season, if this strategy still makes any sense.  Clearly the tourists, who in this temporal comparison resemble retired people, couldn't care less if it is Saturday or Monday.  You would have a point.  So far, the tourists we have seen have been tested up the wazoo.  And they really seem to be trying to follow the rules.  Suffice it to say, mask wearing and social distancing are difficult at the beach.

A Chinese Dragon run amok on a hill in San Francisco.

   In hopes of generating a blog, late Monday morning, I made my way to the pier.  It was a dark and stormy day, not one that our Dear Good Lord would have designated for underwater photography.  On the other hand, it was Monday, so off we go into the cooling and modestly clear water.  

   I wasn't very far out, perhaps only as far as the second swim buoy, and in the relative shallows, halfway between the swim buoy and the malecon, amongst a bunch of living coral, when things started happening.  Three blue goatfish, hunting in a group with an adolescent ulua, went whipping by.  The blue is among our larger goatfish and the largest of these, who was batting cleanup, was possibly the largest I have ever seen.  He was the, in the words of Randall McMurray, the bull goose blue goatfish. 

The Blue Goatfish Trio, Ulua, Eel and Trumpetfish!

Now, when hunting, blue goatfish don't mess around.  I can't understand how they survive since all they do is swim really fast, never stopping for a bite. And this big fella, with his flotilla, was on a merry chase.  They circled around and were suddenly joined by a long, lightly pigmented eel. Let's call him a stout. Can you imagine an eel chasing along with these marauding goatfish?  Who knew that an eel could swim that fast? 

   This fast moving parade reminded me of that hysterical chase scene from What's Up Doc where Barbara Stresand and Ryan O'Neill end up on a delivery bicycle under a Chinese Dragon.  What a scene!

   In addition to the picture of the Chinese dragon, etc., I'm including a picture of this marine chase scene.  First, note how big that trailing goatfish is compared to the other two goatfish and the ulua.

Another look at the big blue goatfish.

Huge, right?  Now, in the upper right hand corner, notice how the eel is attempting to keep pace with this fast moving pack.  And finally, see how that trumpetfish, a piscivorous killer in his own right, is watching for a chance at a quick meal.

   Movie analogies aside, this reminded me of a mixed feeding flock.  As I have said many times, bird watching is not nearly so much fun as fish watching.  But there are some analogies.  When one is birding in a forest, be it in Western Washington or the mountains of Venezuela, one is seeing virtually nothing for long periods.  Perhaps once every half hour, if he is lucky, the forest will explode in avian activity.  There may be seven or eight species of small birds moving through.  Ornithologists have trouble stating just exactly what benefit all these different species attain by hunting together, each in his own singular way, for insects.  Regardless, the phenomenon is well known and a mixed feeding flock is what a birdwatcher is hoping for as he traipses quietly through a moist forest.  And for a brief moment, we saw a mixed feeding flock at work on the Hawaiian reef.

Ryan and Babs.  Which way did the eel go?

    Well, the show was over in a flash.  The goatfish and ulua raced off in search of their prey while the trumpetfish and the eel settled down to hunt in their more accustomed fashion.  As far as fish go, that was it for this outing.

     As I came ashore, I was greeted by a friendly black lady of roughly 40 years  who was standing waist deep on the sand, enjoying the cool water and the high overcast.  As you know, I am (figuratively) embracing the tourists, so we had a pleasant, if brief, chat.  She was from San Jose and was so happy to be here in Kona.  She said that she had phoned her friends back in the Bay Area and told them that it was just like 2019 here. 

    Over the last few years we have recalled the Bush presidency as the halcyon days.  Here she was harkening back to 2019 in much the same way. Oh, what we took for granted!  I asked if she was staying at the Marriott and she replied that she was planning on being in Kona for two months and in no way could afford the Marriott for that period of time.  She had opted for an Air BnB up by Taco Bell, which puts her halfway between the beach and the KTA store.  Perfect.  Since my new friend is here for two months, maybe I'll be lucky and see her again.

Slender Lizardfish,  Kailua Bay, Thanksgiving  2020

   With Thanksgiving just a day away, yesterday was our day to look for a turkeyfish.   The Hawaiian Green Lionfish , which is the turkeyfish's nom de guerre, may be the most homely lionfish on the planet.  Over my many years I have seen only two, so finding one on a given  day isn't likely.  If we were representing this as an algebraic equation, we would be talking about x approaching  over infinity.  Or, as I get older, is x approaching infirmity.?  Regardless, the chance of seeing a turkeyfish on this festive occasion gives me an excuse to get out on or near Thanksgiving, no matter how quixotic the mission. 

    That morning I had harvested most of the oranges that remained on our tree and deposited half of them (roughly two dozen naranjas) in a bag on the cubby for our fish minded friends.  Shortly thereafter  I was changed and back into the cool water.  

    My experience with the green  lionfish is that it occurs in the shallows.  So I was focusing on that area when I came upon this nice slender lizard fish.  He has those wonderful lips with black and white stripes.  Sort of like the columns in the duomo in Pisa.  But without any leaning towers.  After that modest encounter, marine animals became pretty scarce.  All the way back at the pier, by the tender

The Bright Eye Damsel says, " Happy Thanksgiving!"

landing I spotted a stripe belly puffer and a large pictus moray eel.  Although the peppered moray is among our largest, he is also among the most reticent.  When I dove down to take a picture of this brute, at a respectful distance, he withdrew into his cave.   As the big moray had withdrawn, I snapped a picture of what was available, which in this case was a a Bright Eye Damselfish.  The bright eye damsel is small and tends to run for cover at the drop of a hat, so we don't have many pictures of this elusive fellow with the shining eye.  As is so often the case, we take what God gives us and in this case it was a bright eye damsel.  

    I dove under the floating line and swam around the shallows for another five minutes looking for the turkeyfish.  I had just made my turn over the sand in preparation for a landing when I ran into the school of bandtailed goatfish.  The water was a little clearer than the first time they were spotted and I got a couple pictures and a movie that you might enjoy.  This apparently was to be our Thanksgiving treat...psychedelic goatfish, in lieu of the the green lionfish.

 

       As I came ashore, I was greeted by a young gentleman and lady, perhaps of the Indian persuasion, although they spoke English flawlessly.  Ankle deep in the water, the young man was wearing shorts and a nice shirt while his lady friend was wearing a skirt.  She also had what might be a backpack purse, or perhaps just a small, fashionable daypack.  Obviously they weren't swimming at that juncture.  They were from Las Vegas and had just arrived in Kona for their honeymoon.  Awww.  Did I mention that they just looked as sweet as pie?

   They were eager to get recommendations for their four day stay in our island paradise.  I gave them Ho'okena, City of Refuge (for the tikis, etc) and Beach 69.  They had never tried snorkeling, so I  recommended the very spot they were standing.  You can never go wrong with a swim at the pier..

jeff

Thanksgiving Hibiscus at Casa Ono.

 

PS.  By the time I was done changing, most of our offered oranges had found a new home.