The Christmas Wrasse 2022 and other holiday delights

Happy Hanukkah to Rabbi Hillis

     As Christmas Day approached, Sandra and I began anticipating our annual Yuletide  search for the Christmas Wrasse.  At about the same time, I received a playful text from Bob Hillis suggesting that we include a quest for the Hebrew cone to coincide with Hanukkah and one for the Boxfish on Boxing Day.  

    In the event, the beginning of Hanukkah saw the jet stream dipping perilously close to the Sandwich Islands, precipitating a 24 hour period of high winds, torrential rain, thunder and lightening.  Or as Saint Nick might say, "Donner and Blitzen!" On the third day of Hannukah I repaired the damage to the yard, removing two fallen banana trees, and a corn palm that had fallen on our blooming orchid.  Mercifully I was able to peel the corn palm off and save the lovely flowers.

   All of this yard debris required a trip to the Waikoloa Transfer Station.  Sandra loves goats and in the past we have seen some large Billies and Nannies here where we throw our green waste into a pile.  Sadly, the goats were taking the day off. 

La Tormenta did not crush the Casa Ono Orchids

   From the Waikoloa Transfer Station it was only an additional ten miles north to Kawaihae Harbor, where I hoped for a dip behind the long protective jetty.  I was already counting my nudibranchs as we secured a parking place in the shade and looked out into the ocean where the few surfers were enjoying the big waves.  As I finished arranging my outfit for a swim, who should drive up but our long lost friends, Hai and Lottie.  From his open window Hai called out, "Jeff, you can't go swimming. Its full of mud!"  

   We were all dressed up, wet suits and all, so, carrying our masks and fins, we walked across the parking area to the LST ramp.  From there we could better appreciate the brown cast to the water in the harbor.  Looking over the edge of the ramp, we verified that the visibility was about six inches.  Abandoning the swim, we had a nice little visit with Hai and Lottie and admired Nai'a, who is now almost three and heartbeakingly cute.  Our friends have moved past Honoka'a to a village uphill on the Hamakua Coast.  On the third day of Hanukkah, they were living through a third day of no electricity.  Might as well be at the beach.

A Juvenile Christmas Wrasse on Christmas Eve, 2022

    But when, you ask, is he going to talk about the fish?

    Our wave predictor suggested that the surf would be up on Christmas Day.  With that in mind, bright and early on Christmas Eve,  Sandra and I took another load of yard debris to our local transfer station and then backtracked to the pier.  The sky was blue and the water cold as we entered on the sandy beach in front of the King Kamehameha Hotel.

  Just past the king's heiau, Sandra stopped and called me back.  She had spotted a likely culprit among the rocks.  It took less than a minute for me to get a look at a juvenile Christmas Wrasse.  The water here was clear enough for me to get a picture.  As you can see, this young trout was eight or nine inches in length and dressed in the garb traditional for his stage of development.  No strong markings on the nose, so he was definitely a Christmas, as opposed to a juvenile Surge wrasse.   

O Little Star of Linckia, How wave swept do you shine.

    This was early in the swim, so even though we had achieved the stated objectivity, schmoopie and I headed seaward.  We looked inside the small pier for a larger, adult Christmas Wrasse, but came up with a lump of coal.  Then on one of the larger chunks of rip rap I spied a handsome Linckia Starfish.  I still say that starfish are rare in Kona, but this was our second in so many weeks.  And here he is for your yuletide viewing pleasure.  One has to  assume that in lieu of a Christmas goose or a plum pudding, he is happily dining on the algae encrusted rock.  A Hard Rock Candy Christmas, indeed!

    Out in the bay, where the water was five balmy degrees warmer, we saw little to excite us.  A large Stripebelly Puffer was patrolling the entrance to Paul's lagoon.  And the Pinktail Triggerfish juvenile (which has an orange tail) was still present on the outer reef. 

   As predicted, Christmas Day here was one of high surf and no snorkeling, which brings us to today...Boxing Day.  Sandra dropped me off at the pier and headed out for shopping.  I worked my way through a myriad of recreational swimmers to the water.  It was not especially cold, but commensurate with the high surf the day before, it was cloudy.  Still, I made it out a hundred yards and eventually saw a fine male boxfish.  I spent a couple minutes securing a photo and headed on in.  There were a few fish, but not as many as one might hope for, and this was the only boxfish that I saw.

A Boxfish on Boxing Day!  But Macy's would not take him a a return.

   On the way in I spotted a small, dark eel.  Diving down, I identified it as an Undulated Moray eel.  He had a sharp face, very dark brown, maybe a cast of purple, with the classic white stripes.  We saw a large whitemouth on Christmas Eve, but this small fellow garnered more respect.  Undulated moray eels are the ones that bite!  And I hope to retire, eventually, from snorkeling with my record intact...  Never bitten by an eel.

   On the beach I was hailed by a family of three Indians, who were wondering about the swimming conditions on the Ironman side. Originally from Boston, they now live in the Bay Area. We reminisced about the Hub and the dad noted that it is too cold to swim around San Francisco, but not so around Boston.  I used to swim at Gloucester, on the north shore, Singing Beach.  I remembered it as a fine place for a dip, but maybe not on Boxing Day!

jeff