What we saw this week.

    The week began pleasantly enough at the pier.  As Sandra dropped me off, we were lucky to catch a nicely endowed lady in a miniature key lime pie bikini unloading her paddle board.  By the time I made it down to the sand, Venus had positioned her seven year old daughter on the bow of her board and was paddling out for a rendezvous at Milf Island with Jack Donaghy.

     Sometimes living in Kona can be a rough job, but somebody's gotta do it. 

    The water was clear and cold, still hovering around 75 nippy degrees Fahrenheit.  Which apparently isn't bad if you've just flown in from Sioux Falls, but makes me glad for my neoprene vest.  By the second swim buoy I spotted a small Stout Moray racing across the sand.  This guy was white, with spotty black markings, an unmistakable pattern.  I turned and followed him.  I couldn't keep up and he disappeared beneath a coral.  Luckily he was replaced by a huge pictus moray.

The Ironman side is a good place for pictus.

   The pictus is a fairly ugly eel, but they grow big.  This guy must have been four feet long and as big around as my thigh.  (That probably says more about my old white guy wimpy thighs than it does about the eel.)   He swam around and around, permitting me several close approaches.  All of which begs the question, even though this is not the most infamous species, how close does one want to get to a great big, actively hunting eel?  On this day I figured about three feet was close enough.    

   I didn't get a great picture, but on the other hand I didn't get bit.  This large gray eel is unusual anywhere else, but quite dependable on the Ironman side of Kailua pier.  Over the next 40 minutes I saw two more of the unattractive brutes.  

   Additionally, my swim turned up a cushion star and a nice pair of oval butterflies.

Snowflake Moray Eel, Kahalu'u March 2023

   A few days later I went swimming at Kahalu'u.  It was early afternoon and the place was teeming with full contact snorkelers. Luckily, there ware also a few fish.  Right at the opening I had a close encounter with the male Pearl Wrasse.  Once again he was cooperative enough for photography, but you surely had your fill of that fellow in the last blog.

    A little ways away, I spotted a tiny Snowflake Moray.  He was hiding in some rocky rubble, but poked his nose out for a picture.  He was just a little bit bigger around than my thumb and the picture was taken at about one foot.  Little danger of this shy fellow causing any damage! 

   Considering all the people in the bay, there was a nice group of fish on this sunny afternoon.  Rockmovers were plentiful.  There were a few big adults, at least two dragon wrasses and several youngsters who had just left that infant stage behind.  I tried to take a movie of one of these adolescents, still bearing the "antennae" but otherwise looking like an adult, he was  flopping this way and that, as if he were still a dragon and might be mistaken for a piece of seaweed.  My movie making failed, so use your imagination. 

Hawaiian Dascyllus adolescent, Kahalu'u 2023

   There were several Hawaiian Dascyllus babies with the bright white spot on the flank and a blue dot on the forehead.  With patience I got a flash picture of one of these guys hiding in a depression in a coral.  Around the far side of the bay, by the Rescue Shelter, I found a really nice adolescent.  He was actually fairly cooperative and I thought I had a shot worthy of a Christmas card.  But when I got to shore I discovered that the camera didn't quite achieve perfect focus.  Rats!  Anyway here is a pretty good effort at an adolescent dascyllus.

All of which brings us up to Sunday.  Sandra and I go to the Lutheran Church Which offers the opportunity to sit outside with a group of parishioners who fear that inside poses a greater risk for Covid.  In addition to the reduced risk of contracting an infectious disease, the view from the lanai, where us cowards watch the service on a big screen TV, can be pretty good for wildlife observation.   Recently, while Pastor Brian droned on, us outsiders were treated to a pair of Hawaiian Hawks as they performed an aerial mating ritual.  

Stareye Parrot imitating Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus.

   On this morning, we had sung the closing hymn and Pastor Brian was introducing visitors to the day's service.  At this moment, out on the lawn, twenty feet away, I spotted a butterfly We see lots of butterflies from our choice lanai seats: bronzy monarchs, yellow sulfurs and citrus orange Gulf Frits.  But this butterfly was black.  And he had unmistakable red in the wings.  A goddam Red Admiral!  

   "Look at the butterfly!" I directed my fellow lepidopterist, as I bound from my seat and chased it around the corner of the building.   The back of the Lutheran church has a wonderful border of flowers, which I perused with intensity, albeit to no avail.  I paused momentarily to question the pastor's son, who was hanging out, with poorly disguised ennui, with the much younger son of the lady who directs the choir. Suffice it to say, Calvin had not seen the butterfly. In fact, one got the impression that Calvin wished he were anywhere else.

Not a Red Admiral, but a Red Labrid Wrasse

   And so, I snuck back into the tail end of church, where Sandra had explained to our fellow Christians the importance of a Red Admiral.  I mean, All God's Creatures.  Right?

    Two days ago (see? we're getting to the end.)  Sandra and I went to Ho'okena.   We like to say that this is our favorite beach, but as I was injured on our return to Hawai'i, we hadn't been there in many months.  It was a beautiful morning and a little before nine o'clock it was time to hit the water.  

   The surf was small, the water crystal clear.  If only there had been a few more fish it would have been
perfect.  As it was, we easily got the big four, Potters, Flame Angelfish, Gilded Triggerfish and Garden Eels.  These are all seen straight out from the far end of the sandy beach.  After you see the angels in the coral, swim out another twenty yards, turn left and look for the garden eels in the sand, thirty feet down.  

   After we saw those special, if dependable, fish, we really didn't see anything great.  We did see a red labrid in the shallows and a small linckia starfish. It was, unfortunately, that sort of day.

  We decided that nothing could round out the morning better than stopping at Greenwell's Coffee for our picnic lunch.  It had been months and we were sad to find that the large tree that shaded the garden adjacent to the tasting pavilion was no more.  The tasting staff told us that it had cracked in a recent windstorm, requiring removal.. This was a big old tree and it will take many years to grow another.  Treebeard wept.

   After lunch we repaired to the nearby orange tree, renowned as the home of a tribe of Jackson's Chameleons.   The lady in the tasting room said no one had seen one yet on this day and asked,if we found one, to bring her word  so that she might worship it also.  With that sort of encouragement, we did our best work.  As we searched, we enjoyed the heavenly fragrance of orange blossoms. (Better than frankincense and myrrh.).   Aroma therapy was never so effective, and in a few minutes I found a fine male chameleon, horns at the ready, in the upper branches of the orange tree.  

Jackson's Chameleon at Greenwell's Coffee.

    As Sandra was preparing the cell phone camera, and our attention was thus diverted, the duplicitous lizard moved.  Woe is me!  It took another few minutes to find him a foot or so away, now clinging in almost vertical attitude to a branch.  While the lizard contemplated the heavens, we took a few choice, if somewhat backlit, shots, the best of which you see here.  The coffee docent was suitably impressed and we even had the opportunity to show the beast to one of our fellow java enthusiasts.

   The week ended on that happy note, with a cup of Greenwell's joe, a ham and cheese on ciabatta and a delightful look at a most curious horned lizard.  Sandra and I hope your week was equally delightful.

jeff

The Fabulous Fish of Kahalu'u

     With surf conditions good for snorkeling, it still took a couple days for the tide progression to advance to the point where it was deep enough for a morning entry at Kahalu'u.  For those of you whose life is not

Raccoon Butterflyfish, juv. Kahalu'u  March 2023

tied to the tides (did you like that?) the high tide on a given day is just about an hour later than it was the day before.  Yesterday the moon cooperated and I found myself schlepping into the water about 8 AM.  

  At this hour I had the entry to myself, which was lucky because it was still pretty shallow, narrow and rocky.  Doesn't that sound inviting?  In a minute I was through the entry and I was immediately rewarded with a juvenile Raccoon Butterflyfish.  As you may note on the picture, this juvenile has an additional spot on the dorsal fin.  In the adult that spot is incorporated into the curved line that runs upward in one smooth sweep.  I didn't notice this fish here, or anywhere until a few years ago and I still find it enchanting.

    To get that picture I had followed the baby raccoon out to the left.  Feeling the tug of fate, I decided to follow the route seldom taken, navigating the bay in a counter clockwise fashion.  I was soon

Pearl Wrasse male, Kahalu'u March 2023

rewarded, for in the southwest corner, over near Alii Drive, there was a male Pearl Wrasse.  This is the best spot in the bay for this unusual fish.  

 

   I had not seen a Pearl Wrasse, neither the male nor the far more common female, this year.  I'm including two pictures of the male and one of the female, which I found a short distance away. The first thing you might notice, is that as wrasses in Hawaii go, these are not small fish.  The second thing is that unlike many fish, the male and female look remarkably dissimilar.   In addition to their disparate coloration, the male has a curious shape to his head.  Makes you wonder what he might be thinking about.  I mean, he's a male, so probably sex.  But what else?  Global warming, the problem with the Chinese.  The possibilities are limitless.

What does the Pearl Wrasse think about Xi Jinping?

    In the corner, the water was a little cloudy, but not as bad as it is frequently.  Just a little further out it became fairly clear, so we have the picture of the female, and the second male, that are pretty good from that standpoint. 

 

As I look at the female Pearl Wrasse, the one that gives the species its name,  I'm reminded of those bearded wonders from Texas.  ZZ Top, who if I'm not mistaken, sang a song about a girl with a pearl necklace.  Luckily for this fish, she rarely has to deal with bearded rockstars from the Lone Star State.

She wore a pearl necklace at Kahalu'u.

     

      A bit further out the water was irresistibly clear and I took a few pictures of the Red Shouldered Surgeon.  This is a common fish, both here at Kahalu'u and many other spots in Kona.  In these days of climate change, I hesitate to take any fish for granted.  The list of fish that were once common and that  we no longer see at K Bay is not a small one.  And it stretches across virtually every family of fish,

A beautiful Red Shoulder Surgeon, March 2023

from Scribbled Filefish to Milletseed Butterflyfish, and on to Elegant Coris.  When I took my boys snorkeling here, these were solid sure thing fish.  So I say, let's enjoy this beautiful surgeonfish, and not take him for granted for granted.   

Out here where you could almost yell good morning to the surfers, I ran into several Hawaiian Cleaner Wrasse.  For some reason, on this morning they were out and about, plying their trade.  I took a few pictures of an average sized fellow at one cleaning station, and then a bit further on, I found one significantly larger. 

This fish did not behave in the usual manner of his ilk; instead of slipping back under his coral at the cleaning station, he decamped and I followed him respectfully until he turned and gave us this gorgeous profile look.

   And, as this is mostly a show and tell, showing off what we saw in the clear morning water, here is an I'iwi that was hanging around while I pursued the cleaner wrasse.

     Finally I made it back toward shore and over near the Menehune Breakwater.  There I  encountered an adolescent of the Freckled Hawkfish sitting up on a bit of healthy coral.   The juvenile of this species, with his bright green dorsum is one of my favorites.  Although this fish is not as common as he once was, he's hanging on.  In fact, you may recall that Leslie and I saw a fat Freckled Hawkfish on a lava reef out on Paul Allen's Reef just a couple
weeks ago.  The thing is, the adult is not at all common in Kahalu'u Bay.  But the juveniles,with their jaunty green caps, remain fairly regular.  this juvenile is sufficiently different from the adult that I give it a new name, Forster's Hawkfish. 

Freckled Hawkfish, adolescent,  March 2023

This guy is clearly an intermediate.  If I hadn't alerted you to the green cap, you     might have missed it.  And look!  Some ofthose freckles that in the adult are black, this teenager are a handsome crimson.  

    If I do say so myself, this is a pretty good picture of a nice fish at the adolescent stage of maturity.

   Back ashore, I asked the Reef Teacher manning the parking booth, a comely young Polynesian lady, if Yasuko was around.  As it turns out, the spritely little Reef Teacher is spending two weeks in her native Japan.  Reminiscing about our mutual friend permitted me to bond a bit with Brianne.  While I was showing her my pictures of the Pearl Wrasse, a gentleman came to the booth and said, "If you're such a smartypants, tell me this!  Yesterday I saw a crab, or was it a lobster?  It looked funny but it was walkin' straight. 

   I suggested that it might be a slipper lobster.  Being a young technophile, Brianne pulled up a picture on her phone, and the gentleman agreed that was what he had seen.  More common at night, these

We all need a friend.  Cleaner Wrasse and Senorita Jacator

strange crustaceans are rarely seen.  he had watched it crawl around a coral for about a minute.  a truly excellent look at this recluse.

    I complimented the gentleman on his strong work and that concluded a delightful morning at Kahalu'u. Hope to see you at the beach,

jeff

A trip to Hilo with Snow and an Unusual Moth with Kona Snorkeling and Waikoloa Stilts

     This week we have been host to Sandra's daughter, Leslie. Luckily the surf came down, affording us

The Freckled Hawkfish strikes a pose on the PAR.

the opportunity to do some snorkeling.  Sadly, the fish are still not as plentiful and diverse as they once were.  Leslie and I saw one nice fat Freckled Hawkfish  on Paul Allen's Reef.  He was sitting in a rocky depression and was cooperative when I dove to take his picture.  Once quite common, the Blackside Hawkfish (as Mr. Freckle has been recast by the ichthyological illuminatti) is now rather uncommon. C'est dommage.

   Also this week I taught Leslie how to cut down a banana tree and hang the bunch to ripen.  With any luck, Sandra and I will have ripe bananas before we return to the icy northland.  that's only five weeks away and we sincerely hope that by April 11th the guy upstairs who is running the climate change thing has gotten the snow and ice thing out of his system.

An Elegant Black Neck Stilt at the Waikoloa Dump

    The motivation for cutting down the banana was largely to generate enough yard debris to justify a trip to the Waikoloa Transfer Station.  Two days after the harvest, we loaded up the segments of stump and the leaves and made our way north.  As we hoped, the Black Neck Stilts were still in the fenced drainage pond. All three of us got some fine looks at these handsome birds. 

     They were not nearly as flighty as on our first excursion, flying overhead and screeching at us only a couple times.  They spent some time feeding on the far side of the pond.  Eventually, one of the birds came to the near side and promenaded along the edge.  

   This Christmas Santa left a Panasonic G85 camera in my stocking.  Thoughtfully, the jolly old soul included a 45-150 zoom lens in hopes that I would reward the elves with some butterfly pictures come summer in the PNW.   This banana-driven expedition to see the stilts was the first chance to test the camera out against the wildlife.  Here you see a couple of the better shots.  One can only assume that Mrs. Claus broke out a big box of candy canes in celebration.

    Given the frenetic flying and screeching on our first encounter with the stilts, we had hoped that there might be babies for us to gurgle and coo at.  If there were, we didn't see any.  This pond doesn't have an island or any other site that might protect a nest and there is no reason to believe that a mongoose could not sneak in and take the eggs, but we will continue to watch for babies.  And just think...How cute is a baby stilt!

 

    All of which brings us to yesterday.  Sandra is enjoying the recovery period of her second cataract operation.  And who knew?  It is apparently common that a year or so after a cataract is removed, crystals form in the eye, eventually clouding the vision from said peeper to essentially the same extent as the cataract.  Although she had already suffered this ignominy once, the Kaiser Permanente bureaucracy required her to see an optometrist who then passed her on to an ophthalmologist.  At that juncture, she was given a choice:  She could fly to Honolulu and have it done there or drive to Hilo, where Kaiser has installed a laser and, as it turns out, an ophthalmologist flies over from Honolulu once a week to zap post cataract crystals.

   And so we left the balmy shores of Kailua Kona at 8:30 in the morning and made our way north to the Daniel Inouye Expressway and on to Hilo.  On the way we were stopped for road construction.  Off to our left was Maui, rising above the clouds.  And ahead was Mauna Kea with an amazing amount of snow.  While we were stopped, Leslie took pictures out the window.  Why she did not take a picture of the snow capped mauna will remain a mystery for the ages.

   As we headed up the DIE, we were treated to a striking view of Mauna Loa covered in snow.  

The moth of the Maille Pilau Hornworm,

  It was only a couple months back when Mana Loa was erupting and we feared that lava was going to creep across the highway, precluding this route for the foreseeable future.  Sandra and I made an excursion to see this magnificent event, and so we knew where to look for the lava ridge, now only a mile or so from the highway.  When we got there, we thought we saw snow down in the saddle.  This was the north slope of Mauna Loa, so it seemed possible.  More careful observation revealed that it was steam rising from the area where the lave had bee flowing, which is to say that the lava field is still hot, generating the steam.

   The main thrust of this journey was getting Sandra to the Kaiser ophthalmologist in Hilo.  While she was waiting her turn, Leslie and I went to a couple nearby waterfalls.  The gushing river and the falling rain all combined to remind us that falling water is what Hilo is known for.  

   After the waterfalls we made lunch and dined sumptuously on a bench in front of the Hilo Kaiser Clinic.  As we settled down to eat, what we thought was the most amazing bee came in to nectar on the impatiens that were growing in the adjacent planter.  He was close and we got some excellent looks.  But he was too fast for Lesile to capture him with her cell phone.  Back in Estacada, where she works as a librarian, Leslie has a high school student who specializes in drawing bees.  I, on the other hand, have Daniel Rubinoff, PhD.  He of the Kamehameha Butterfly project at UH Manoa.  Here are the field notes I sent to Daniel:

Or the Burnt Spot Hummingbird Hawkmoth

This bug was not small, perhaps 1.8 cm in length.  It had a strange proboscis that extended dramatically from the face. Sandra's daughter, who was eating with me, thought she saw white markings around the face.  Additionally, it had dramatic orange and black fringes extending from the base of the wings.  And it had a significant, pointed abdomen which came to a point suggesting a stinger.  Do you know what this curious animal might be?  I might call it a hummingbird bee.

    This was a chip shot for Dr R.; he identified the insect as the Maille Pilau Hornworm, or Burnt Spot Hummingbird Hawkmoth.  This  moth is native to the SW Pacific and also well known as an introduced species in Hawaii.  Here I'm including two pictures from the internet  that demonstrates what Leslie and I saw

    Sandra's eye is fixed and we are back safely, high and dry in Kona.   If only we had a few hawkmoths to keep us company.

jeff

   In a subsequent communication, Dr Rubinoff tells us that this moth is not particularly rare and is found on all the main islands, but only in wetter areas.  Like HIlo.  Also, it is not seen with great frequency as it is primarily nocturnal.  However, it appears during daylight hours on dark, cloudy days.  And so, vis vis the Burnt Spot Hummingbird Hawkmoth, Leslie and I were fortunate to be eating our lunch on a dark, rainy day!   j