A Tiger Haunts the King Kam or Snorkeling with the Tiger Snake Moray

     About a week ago we had some friends over for dinner.  Sandra let it slip that I wrote a blog and our dinner companion asked, "How often do you post?"  The short answer would be, whenever we find something that is worthy of  a blog.  That doesn't exactly answer her question, but we keep on swimming, hoping that something special will turn up.  Mired in an observational drought that was approaching a fortnight, I decided that I would go to the beach in front of the King Kam Hotel and turn the outing into a blog.  In the absence of interesting critters, I could talk about the condition of the reef.

    I got down to the beach just after 8 AM.  When I swim on the Paul Allen side of the pier, which is to say entering on the fine sandy beach in the lagoon in front of the Marriott (the iconic King Kamehameha Hotel is, indeed, currently a Marriott) I change into my snorkeling gear on the beach below the beach boy shack.  As I changed, I noted a significant line at the shack.  It turns out the beach boys open up at eight and the early birds were lined up to rent kayaks and paddle boards.  Like me, they wanted to be among the first out on the water.

Tiger Snake Moray,   Scuticaria tigrina,  Kailua Bay,  March 2022

    As I entered I shared a few words with the lone bather in the lagoon.  She was a nice lady in her thirties from San Mateo.  I commented that the water was a lot colder in San Francisco and she replied that she wished that the water was warmer in the lagoon,where she was standing in cool water about waist deep.  Things are starting to warm up, but at any time of year the Inner Harbour will have the coldest water in Kona.  She seemed pretty happy to be there, enjoying the peace of the early Hawaiian morning regardless of the water temperature.

    As I shoved off, I was struck by the remarkably clear water.   The winter swell has yet to subside and before we left home we had watched the surfers down at Lyman's, enjoying some big waves, so I was a little surprised at this water clarity.  Of course, the winter swell comes mostly from the north and Kailua Bay is largely protected under these conditions.

    So I swam out, enjoying the clear water but seeing nothing of note in the lagoon.  I cleared the last of the big rip rap which extends from the small breakwater and turned for a quick look among those giant rocks on the bay side.  Immediately I got my reward.  In a crevice between the rocks I saw a segment of a small eel.  This eel was as smooth as a well made garden hose and just a little larger in diameter.  I was looking at a section about five inches in length which at that moment was in motionless repose.

   The eel was a uniform ecru.  The sartorially handicapped would call it beige, but that sounds so boring.  Decorating this elegant suit were a variety of black spots.  These spots had a slightly irregular margin, some were large extending the width of the eel's dorsum, while others were smaller.  

Zebra Moray, Kailua Bay , March 2022

   Mr. Eel was only about three feet below me, so I was able to dive down and  take a couple pictures.  As you will notice, there is no evidence of a dorsal fin.  After about a minute, the eel began to move and in short order he slithered out of my view.  Despite paying careful attention, I did not get much of a look at his tail.

   This was a Tiger Snake Moray, Scuticaria tigrina, the first one in my long and checkered snorkeling career.  The Tiger Snake Moray is secretive, nocturnal and rarely seen by snorkelers.  One might think that an animal named Tiger would have stripes.  John Hoover tells us that in the early nineteenth century (this eel was named in 1828) all large cats were on occasion called tigers.  Sandra thought he might be named for some person called Tiger, like Tiger Woods, perhaps.  

Five Stripe Wrasse, juvenile, Paul Allen's Reef  March 2022

    The other curious thing about the common name is the snake part.  This is definitely a moray eel, not a snake eel. John Randall in Shore Fishes of Hawai'i, 1996, calls this eel a Tiger Moray.  This is still an acceptable common name for this eel; common names of fish do not seem to be regulated as strictly as they are for birds. Randall also placed the Banded Moray in the genus Scruticaria.   I'm pretty sure that even 25 years ago this was a mistake that should have been caught by his editor.  For the blog, I read an article from the proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, 1997 authored by Eugenia Bohlke and John McCosker  The authors were determined to clear up taxonomic questions about the genus  Scruticaria.  The authors tell us that the two species in this genus possess a long cylindrical body, a small head and a very short tail.    So these eels actually do look more like snakes than most other morays.

   Adults can reach 60 inches, but my specimen was probably only 18 inches in length. And I now feel relieved of any blame for not getting a better look at the tail fin, which in this genus is almost non-existent. 

Five Stripe Wrasse, juvenile, Paul Allen's Reef  March 2022

     I swam across the small bay and on the far side, hiding under a rock on the shore of the the Thurston Estate, once the vacation retreat of Paul Allen, I saw a large Zebra Moray.  On my first dive, I held on briefly near his lair, and got a look at the entire eel including the face.  Subsequent dives produced a good look at the body and that is what you see pictured here.  This was my first zebra fr 2022.

    As I approached the point that separates the small bay from the reef facing the open ocean, I caught sight of a small wrasse with a red face pattern.  I chased this guy over the shallow reef, often in less than a foot of water with lava and dead coral right below me.  I was fairly sure that this was a juvenile Five Stripe Wrasse and I was determined to get a picture.  Out of ten shots I got two that demonstrate what I was looking at, although neither will be printed on aluminum and displayed on the wall.  

White Spotted Surgeons in the surge, Paul Allen's Reef 2022

    At one point in the chase, a juvenile Surge Wrasse appeared.  I tried to swim in for a picture, but he was gone before I could get in range.  At another juncture a set came in.  I was already over the shallow reef and the wave was pushing me in.  Lucky for me, I was wearing a glove and able to stop my progress before getting a nasty scrape.  

    I cruised the open ocean for a few minutes and then made another pass at the wave swept reef.  There I found a large group of White Spotted Surgeons cavorting in the surge next to the wall.  That was a fine kettle of fish upon which to end this very productive snorkel.

jeff