Delightful Spring Butterflies on Mount Hood

       

          On the bank above Dougan Creek, these Lorquin's Admirals herald the beginning of spring.
     

    The weatherman has been struggling to put together a warm spring in the Pacific Northwest.  It was warm for a couple days a week ago and Sandra and I made it to Dougan Falls where we saw a profusion of Snowberry Checkerspots and small Lorquin's Admirals.  On the last day of this run we actually flirted with triple digits.  But then a cold spell descended upon us.  Looking for butterflies in temperatures lower than 60 degrees is a quixotic mission, so we took a few days off, watching the weather for the right day to make a journey to Mount Hood.  

Timberline Coffee 2025

      We decided that yesterday, the 17th of June, would be the best day this week.  And so, 8:30 in the morning found us on the third floor of Timberline Lodge enjoying a cup of delicious coffee and a postcard vista of the mountain.  By 9:00 AM we had finished our java.  Out on the terrace, looking up at Mt. Hood, we noted that that the profusion of wildflowers that we anticipate for later in the summer was still in the offing. And so we returned to the car and descended 500 vertical feet to Alpine Campground.

    The first thing we noticed was that the  campground itself was closed.  This wasn't a significant problem; we parked outside the gate and had the area all to ourselves.  In a month we expect to see a meadow of asters, but we were too early for that lovely purple carpet.  Lucky for us and our lepidopterous buddies, there was a sprinkling of different wildflowers.  

Polemium pulcheria aka Jacob's Ladder, Alpine Campground

    Initially I didn't see any butterflies and so I amused myself by taking pictures for the wildflowers.   Of course, being a very poor excuse for a botanist, I shared a few of these pictures (in my post trip missive) with our guru, the redoubtable Caitlin LaBar.  She replied, "I don't know what those purple flowers are, but the pink ones are a type of Phlox and the yellow is Birdsfoot Trefoil."  It's hard for me to imagine that Cait doesn't know what the purple ones are...she knows everything!

    Of course, there is someone who truly seems to know everything and his name is Mr. Google.  After a quick tutorial, I was able to use Google photos on my phone to put a name on the purple flowers: Polemonium pulcheria, sometimes known as Jacob's Ladder.  Heaven only knows why (get it?)  It's found in the mountains from the Yukon to Arizona.  And if you rub the leaves it emits the odor of a skunk.  So if you want to be popular with the ladies, don't rub the leaves.  

California Tortoiseshell warming in the morning sun.

    Anyway, as I was strolling along, I saw a couple medium sized orange butterflies.  One flew in front of me and landed at a convenient height in a conifer.  Low and behold it was a California Tortoiseshell.  This guy was extremely cooperative, basking in the morning sun, affording me the opportunity to capture this luscious photo.  

    I had heard that California Tortoiseshell was common around Timberline Lodge.  In as much as it migrates from the south, I had assumed it would arrive later.  Obviously, this was wrong.  

   We explored the meadows around Alpine Campground.  On the opposite side of the road, where there is a very pleasant meadow, I ran into some purple lupine, the aforementioned Phlox and the curiously named Pussypaws.  These, of course, are plants, not the dismembered limbs of felines. I saw a few tortoiseshells in the woodsy margin surrounding the meadow, but no other butterflies.   

   Deciding that we had done all the damage we could at Alpine, we headed down to lower elevation about 10 AM.   First stop was our favorite snow park, Snow Bunny, where children go sliding in the winter and we look for butterflies in the summer.  Immediately on disembarking, I caught an unusual moth among the weeds.

Sandra's Silvery Blue perches on her hand.  

    At about the same time we started seeing California Tortoiseshells.  Not just a few...they were everywhere.  Pyle and LaBar make a big deal of the population fluctuations for this species.  They note that these tortoiseshells build up their numbers for years until they become the most common butterflies in the mountains, defoliating large areas of deerbrush and ceanothus.  As with other such species, the following season their numbers crash.  In 2026 it might look like Donald Trump has put a tariff on tortoiseshells!  

    It's a shady quarter mile walk through the woods, up a service road, to the steep slopes the sliders use in the winter.  This road serves as a route for a seep throughout the summer.  On this day the wet ground was littered with tortoiseshells.  As we emerged from the trees, I took a failed swipe at a medium sized white butterfly and in short order Sandra caught a Silvery Blue.  We were hoping for Sara's Orangetip, which is supposed to appear along with the Silvery Blue, later in the season, at higher altitudes.  The status of the Orangetip, on our lifelist. remains unchanged.

Birdsfoot Trefoil at Snow Bunny.

    It was in this meadow that we found the aforementioned Birdsfoot Trefoil.  I wouldn't have known a Trefoil from a tin foil, but this unusual wildflower caught my attention.  Note how it produces small budding seed pods at the ends of the petals.  Supposedly the seeds reminded someone of a bird's foot.

    Earlier in the day, as we drove up past Government Camp, which is a small commercial area at 4000 feet, near which the steep road to Timberline begins, I noticed that there was a ski area creating a meadow.  "Why not try that spot for butterflies?"  I thought.  And so, after we left Snow Bunny we added another stop to our route.  

Greenish Blue Butterfly, Government Camp, June 2025

   Before going on, I have to tell you that we have stopped in this area many times.  A large parking lot, that undoubtedly is used by skiers in the winter, is anchored by a chalet that houses the only designated rest area (i.e., clean toilets) on Mt. Hood.   U.S. 26 is the chief route between Bend and Portland., so this is a well-used rest area.  Suffice it to say, on those many instances when we have stopped, we have parked near the facilities. 

  Much to my chagrin, when we parked near the buildings that service the ski area, we found that the parking area is bounded by a substantial drainage from the mountain.  There are willows, tall grasses and a ditch with slowly moving water. This, of course, is a lepidopterist's wet dream.  

Hoffmann's Checkerspot, Government Camp 2025

      On disembarking, we were immediately treated to a variety of butterflies.  There was a small rufous butterfly on the grassy fringe of the car park which I successfully netted. Sandra got that little guy in a bag and I headed up the margin of grass fronting the seep.  

    There were a couple small black butterflies.  Caitlin has taught us that these small black butterflies are invariably duskywings.  If you look very closely, they are not solid black, but at even a short distance they appear black as a banshee.  In this case, they were either pascuvius or dreamy duskywings ( a genus of skipper).   I was unable to get one in the net, although I got a quick, excellent look at one of these small insects sunning himself in the short grass.   Unfortunately, lacking an excellent picture, our mentor is unwilling to guess which of the two it might have been. 

  We could see the snowball like blossoms of bear grass growing in the meadow/ski slope a hundred yards uphill.  (this is a ski slope after all), and so I decided to take a walk that far up the hill.  As I rounded the doublewide associated with this small ski operation I looked down at a small blossom growing in the grass and, to my surprise, I saw a Snowberry Checkerspot butterfly.  This is a very distinctive insect, and I have lots of experience with it.  In fact, I saw a dozen a week ago.  While I was deciding whether to net it or try for a picture it flew away.

Hoffmann's Checkerspot, ventral June 2025

   Well, I catalogued that one in my ancient squash and proceeded around the building.  There, on another small blossom, was a blue butterfly.  He or she was having lunch and paid me little heed while I took a picture.  I figured that this must be a silvery, based entirely on location, and headed up towards the Bear Grass. 

    I made it up and took a couple pictures.  (If you look carefully, you can see Mt. Hood peeking over the top of the hill.)  The way back down was uneventful.  Sandra let me waste another five minutes by the parking lot, but there were no more surprises.

    Back home, we took pictures of our victims and sent Caitlin some of the photos and the salient field notes.  For the most part we were able to make our own identifications.  As noted here, that small reddish butterfly was a Hoffmann's Checkerspot.  Last year, when we saw it at Alpine Campground, this was a really big deal.  This year, a month earlier and 2,000 feet lower, it wasn't quite so exciting, but still, this is a rare insect with a range restricted to the crest of the Cascades in the western states. 

Bear Grass, Ski Lift and Mt. Hood, Gov't Camp 2025

    We got Sandra's silvery right, but Cait took issue with the butterfly I photographed in the Government Camp ski meadow.  She calls it a greenish blue, highlighting that little mark on the dorsal forewing.  That's why she's the expert and we have one more for the list.

    It took but a moment's reflection for me to pose the question, "Can you see Hoffmann's and Snowberry Checkerspot in the exact same location on the same day in June?"  I sent this question in an email to Cait.

   Now...my older son has over the last few months become enamored of AI...artificial intelligence.  He started out by using AI for his computerized art.  Now he doesn't go to the washroom without asking AI if his tissue is correct for the circumstances.  And he's got me doing it, albeit to a lesser extent.

   In any event, I asked this question of Google Gemini and, to abbreviate the answer, Gemini said yes.  It noted that the two are both found in moist forests, and they fly at the same time of year.  While the habitat for Hoffmann's is quite restricted, Snowberry Checkerspot is found over a fairly wide range, including mountain environments.  A few hours later Caitlin said the same thing, using, I assume the intelligence that was gifted her by our maker, the God of Abraham. 

Snowberry Checkerspot, Dougan Creek, 2025

    So, 

holy Moley, two checkerspots at the Government Camp rest area!  Is that a good day butterflying, or what? 

 jeff

    

The Painted Lady as created by AI, Chuck Hill Graphics

Butterflies and Birds at Monte Alban

     Recently, Sandra and I spent ten days south of the border.  We had not been to Mexico since Covid hit back in 2019 and we were eager to renew our acquaintance with our southern neighbor.  In the past we had flown to Mexico City and taken one of the delightful first-class buses to another Mexican city.  This time we flew non-stop from DFW to Oaxaca.

Bienvenidos a Oaxaca

     We stayed in the centro, on the  pedestrianized street, Macedonio de Alcala, two blocks from the ancient templo Santo Domingo de Guzman.   Right in the heart of the old city (construction began on Santo Domingo in 1551), this was an area with relatively few trees and weedy patches,.  Not only that, but from the beginning it was hotter than a horno.  And so, we didn't expect to see much in the way of butterflies.  

    Curiously, this was not entirely the case.  On our first two mornings we saw a couple species on the streets near Santo Domingo.  One was a large grayish white butterfly.   We were able to spot this beast flying on many occasions (at the right time of day it wasn't uncommon) but we never got especially close.  We didn't bring a net and so we didn't catch one for good examination.  This guy liked to fly up, so even if we had a net, it wouldn't have come into play with this species.  As with all the butterflies I will mention in this blog, with a single exception, this will mean that we used distribution and a few other clues to make our best guess, but that we can't put a definitive name on the butterfly.   And all the pictures of animals, unless otherwise noted, will be borrowed from the internet.

White Angled Sulfur  Anteos clorinda

   Taking into account all those caveats, this may have been a white angled sulfur.  This is a big whitish butterfly that occurs from the southern US down through Central America.  

   We saw one other butterfly, a smaller brownish orange fellow.  Never got a good look, but he was there flying around in the mid-morning.  

     That was about all the cobblestones would yield for wildlife observation in this often shabby old city.  But, true to the title, I want to tell you about the morning we spent at Monte Alban.  

   Monte Alban is a Zapotec ruin on a hill overlooking the city of Oaxaca.  It is literally right out of town.  The ruins are perched on a flattened hilltop about five hundred vertical feet above the city.  The miracle of Monte Alban is not in its fantastic pyramids, for there are none.  This is no Chicken Pizza, Uxmal or Tikal.  Rather, the miracle is that the stone age Zapotecs moved the earth on the hilltop around to create a large flat space for their courtyards. 

Emerald Swift Lizard Scleoporus malchitis 

    After a remarkably bumpy ride in a well used tour van, we arrived at the site.  Before heading to the ruins our guide wanted to show us the stones near the car park and explain how the Zapotecs carved them.  There was a panoramic view of the city, which was mildly interesting. But the situation was dominated by the guide trying to fill time with a long explanation about the rocks.  While he was droning on, I spotted a couple birds.  There were House Finches, at the southern edge of their range here in Oaxaca, and  a Southern House Wren.  This latter is a smallish brown bird, fairly unremarkable with ochre colored flanks.  Are you asleep yet? 

Mexican Fritillary Butterfly

    In addition, scurrying through the weeds, there were lizards.  As it turned out, this car park- picnic area, at the foot of the hill below the ruins, was chock-a bock full of these lizards: emerald Swift Lizards.  They are fairly common over a wide range, and a bit variable in coloration.  the ones here on Monte Alban had a greenish head, a blue chin, a dark back and yellow checked flanks.  And they moved right along.  I spent too long chasing after them trying to get a picture and by the time I gave up the guide had finished talking about the rocks and was leading the group up the incline to the ruins. 

   We caught up with the guide at the museum where he spent way too much time talking about a few stone panels that may have been lifted from the ruins for safe keeping.  Finally, we got on the trail to the ruins.  We had gone about fifty yards in the blazing sun (at ten am it was already oppressive), when a man appeared out of nowhere with two little stone carvings. One was carved from stone and one was made of clay.  One was Zapotec and who gives a shit what the other was.  It was time to throw Sandra under the bus.

Dionne juno at the butterfly house

    I explained to the guide that my wife was sick with the heat and altitude and we needed to get her into the shade.  He kindly told us that it was about a quarter mile to the ruins and we should meet back at the bus at noon. Look for the wood ramp leading out of the courtyard. In the words of the immortal Martin Luther king, Jr., "Free at last!"  

    On our little quarter mile hike, we saw a Grayish Saltator.  If you have never been to Mexico, this large drab finch would be a life bird.  But it is ubiquitous in the land of the margarita.  So at least we knew what it was.  There were a number of butterflies, fairly large with pale dorsal hind wings, and my research yields nothing to correspond with my memory.  Rats!  And there were small spotted butterflies that were probably Mexican Fritillaries.  

   Every now and then we would see a medium sized butterfly of bright orange.  It never landed, but we got lots of good looks on the wing.  Later in our trip we hooked up with the lepidopterist at the butterfly house at the Chapultepec Zoo.   She was certain that this butterfly was Dionne juno.  So there is one for sure, and here you see my picture from the butterfly house.  

    Soon we were down in the plaza area of the ruins.  This is a large flat area with stepped stone walls, some as high as fifty feet.  The area covers about 50 acres and, as I said before, there are no pyramids or other interesting structures to distract you.  Look at it as the Zapotec's architectural answer to the Southern House Wren.  

   Luckily, in the nearby corner of this sprawling, sun drenched complex there were a couple large leafy trees with two benches underneath.  We were saved!    

So Sandra sat on a bench, and I made short forays out into the blazing sun to see what was around.  I managed a picture of the small lizard with black and white stripes you see here.  I have no idea what it might be, but there were a few of them scuttling among the hot, dry weeds. 

   On another quick circuit I spotted a vermillion flycatcher.  This is a beautiful red bird with a broad range, easily seen in the southern US.   Like a good flycatcher, he finds a preferred perch from which he shoots out to nab a flying insect, returning to the same perch to enjoy his lunch.  This guy was hanging around and, as she recovered, Sandra was able to look through the binoculars and get a good look at the fancy fellow, perched on a small tree twenty yards from our shady refugio.

A shady tree for Schmoopie!

    Soon we saw the butterfly that would make the trip memorable.  As we watched from beneath the shade trees, a large black butterfly with golden bands flew by.  This was one of the most beautiful butterflies I have ever seen, and he was big!  The golden bands were wider than one might expect, more so than a Red Admiral, for example.  And the butterfly flew slowly around us for several minutes.

   At one point he landed on the shade tree only twenty feet away.  Sadly, I wasn't quick enough with the phone camera, so no picture for me.  

    Using the method I described in my caveats at the beginning of this blog (asking Mr. Google for images of butterflies we might see in southern Mexico) I deduced that this incredible beauty was the Guatemalan Catone, Catonepele mexicana.  It seemed to be in range, and I was satisfied.  Luckily, I sent a field report to our friend Peter Krottje.  Peter is a better scientist than I, and he sort of encouraged me to write this blog.  In the process of doing so, I realized that I had made a mistake. 

Catone for your sins, Glassberg , Butterflies of Mexico

   Using the above method, I realized that there was a tremendous sexual dimorphism in the Guatemalan Catone, and so I consulted Butterflies of Mexico by Jeffrey Glassberg.  Schmoopie had purchased this volume a year or so ago, apparently anticipating just such a situation.  By the way, there are so many butterflies in Mexico that I find this book difficult to use.

    But look at the picture of the page with the Guatemalan Catone.  Not only is there dramatic sexual dimorphism, but...Holy Shit! There's a second species!  

   And so, it turns out, there are two similar species of Catones, one on the Pacific side and one on the

West Mexican Catone, Putla Villa de Guerrero, Oaxaca 2024

Gulf (of Mexico!) side.  I knew that when birders come to Oaxaca they start at the Ciudad de Oaxaca and progress downhill to the Pacific coast.  That coast is many hours away by car and one passes through several life zones on the way.  It is roughly a 6,000 foot drop in elevation.  The Oaxacan coast, by the way, is supposed to be a really cool place to hang out, a trip back to an old Mexico beach community. Bottom line, Oaxaca is near the crest of the Pacific slope, definitely not the Gulf side. A more careful look at iNaturalist revealed that this must have been the Pacific species, the West Mexican Catone, Catonephele cortesi.   Not only that, but there is no iNaturalist post for this butterfly near Oaxaca City, much less at Monte Alban.  At least we got the identification correct.  Thanks in large part to Peter.  Now we need to deal with iNaturalist.  

   A friendly guide pointed out the wooden ramp and we escaped the large flat home of the Zapotec priests, richer by one golden butterfly.

jeff

     

A Good Morning at Kawaihae Harbor

Orange Stylinos Sponge, Kawaihae March 2025

   A couple days ago Sandra and I returned to Kawaihae on a sunny morning.  We had met with Peter and Marla a month ago, and they said a trip to Kawaihae provided three species of nudibranchs and fair water quality.  

    We had planned to go to Mahu Kona, another fifteen miles further north, but the tide was very low, and the wind was predicted to be ferocious.   This has been the situation on numerous occasions lately, causing us to swim somewhere else.   As we arrived at the harbor, there were two older girls with snorkel masks collecting shells.  the girls said the water was clear, although they also said they had never noticed it to be green, so we charged ahead.   

   As it turned out, the water was cool (as opposed to freezing) and only a little green.  At worst the visibility was about eight feet.  The first platform had little to offer.  The second platform provided a single Trembling Nudibranch.  He was about eight feet down, so I dove a few times and got one picture that isn't terrible.  

Orange and blue sponges

   What was encouraging was that we saw a lot more fouling organisms on the pilings, including several kinds of sponges, which I am showing you here, At least two species of hydroids were present.  This included a group of very large hydroids that John Hoover calls Christmas Tree.  I didn't know that species got so large.  

     

Christmas Tree hydroids and Snowflake Coral (lower left)

   Towards the end of our snorkel, we both saw a clump that looked like a tangle of pinkish yarn that I was sure was an animal.  I did what I could with the pictures and sent them along to John Hoover, calling it a Curious Tangle.  He replied that he thought it was Polybranchia jensennae, which is a sort of nudibranch.  Personally, I can't find the nudibranch in this mess.  Perhaps one of you will have an idea.  Or perhaps like our new ober fuhrer, Herr Musk, I need to be taking Ketamine to improve my perception.

    So the good news is that there is stuff growing on the pylons, including a variety of intriguing invertebrates.  And the shower in the park is still warm and perhaps the most scenic ablution on the planet.

jeff

   

Curious Tangle..is it a nudibranch?

A Signature Day at Kahalu'u

Whitemouth Moray, Kahalu'u March 2025

    Yesterday the winter swell all but disappeared.  Just like that it was time to venture to Kahalu'u for some well-deserved fish watching.  We arrived at 9 AM.  From the road the bay looked flat as a protected pond.  What could be better?

    A few other fish watchers had noticed the improved conditions and so even at this early hour there were a few other people in the shelter getting ready to swim.  As I was making my final adjustments I overheard a youngish (for an old goat, that means the early 40s) Reef Teacher stating to a novice that the day before she had seen over 100 species.  Suffice it to say that in the words of Country Joe and the Fish, my nose went up like an infield fly.  And I gave her a more discerning look.  She was thin, wearing a wet suit in spite of the fact that she was clearly not going swimming anytime soon, and had a look about her that warned of an attitude.  So I muttered, "Really!" under my breath and headed to the water.

Christmas Tree Worms, Kahalu'u 2025

   At this hour it was a very low tide and I had to boost myself over the rocks in the channel where it was only a few inches deep.  But I made it and I was soon swimming in cool water virtually free of current.  As I made it out to the coral, I saw a Whitemouth Moray sticking his neck out of a small hole in a coral.  This has been a season of few eels, so getting a look at this pedestrian species was a bit of a treat.  He tried to scare me off by bearing his fangs and then slunk back into his crevice with a look that said, "Can't you just wander off and leave me in peace?" 

   I then swam over near the breakwater, admiring some pretty nice Evermann's coral.  Back in the day this species was a mainstay here in Kona, and it was heartening to see some healthy specimens.  One patch was home to handsome Christmas Tree worms.  It's one thing to take a picture of an eel, a relatively large animal, but quite another to get a quality photograph of something small.  Until this day we had not had a truly currentless day at Kahalu'u, or anywhere else.  

Calcinus latens bids you a Happy Easter.  Good luck finding eggs!

   Determined to take advantage, we got this nice shot of the Christmas Tree worms.  Like the moray, these worms should not be terribly unusual, but the times they are a changing and it requires some healthy coral to support this species,  

   Nearby there was a small fireworm out on patrol.  I got his picture, too.  And as I did, I said to myself, "maybe this will be be a day for invertebrates."  And a day well overdue, at that.  As I made my way back towards the middle, I saw a larger fireworm.  Hanging on to the coral by his incendiary tail, he was waving his head in the water like a traffic cop directing me onward.  

    Making the turn up the middle I encountered a small hermit crab that was just itching to have his picture taken.  One cannot say too much in favor of clear, still water when it come s to getting a good shot of very small things.  Or, it's almost impossible to hold a camera still when you're getting sloshed around. 

Haig's Hermit Crab.  Kahalu'u 2025

   So here we see a nice picture of Calcinus latens, the Hidden Hermit Crab.  This guy was about an inch long and one has to give a lot of credit to the Olympus TG5 for getting the tiny critter in focus.  The crab was actually holding on sideways to the coral, but my lovely editor insisted that if we rotated the picture 90 degrees to the right it would make a better Christmas card.  I leave it up to Cousin Don to put a Santa hat on this guy.  To be liturgically correct, I suppose it should be an Easter card, but who ever heard of crucifying a hermit crab?  I suppose I could have caught him and put him in a Faberge Egg.  But, it being the season, all my Faberge Eggs are Lent.   

    Further up the middle I saw another hermit, even smaller than the one before.  As I was free to make fine manipulations, not being sloshed hither and yon, I was able to nab him and place his shell aperture up on the coral.  This maneuver gives the photographer an extra few seconds as the crab emerges (hopefully) and proceeds to do whatever it is that hermits do.  

Will the last Achilles Tang in Kona please turn out the lights?

   If it was Peter the Hermit, he would rouse the rabble, start a crusade and sack some convenient outpost full of obnoxious rich people.  In this case, I would vote for Mar a Lago. 

    But this wasn't Peter the Hermit. Nooo!  Look at those purple legs (Go Huskies).  This was Haig's Hermit Crab.  Unless my memory fails, which in my dotage is always a possibility, I have seen this handsome fellow at K Bay at least one time before.  Our first encounter with this species was on the wave swept rocks in front of Kona Shores, quite a different habitat from this peaceful bay.  

    Although I continued to search assiduously, this was to be the last worthy invertebrate of the day.  But fear not, there were a few fishies that demand your attention. 

Stareye Parrot at the Cleaner Wrasse Spa, Kahalu'u 2025

    A ways on, I encountered an adolescent Achilles Tang.  A few years ago, this would not have made the blog.  But this iconic fish is now endangered to the extent that spear fishermen are supposedly prohibited from taking them.  Enforcement for such infractions, in my experience is fairly loose here in the land of swaying palms and the Mai Tai, so I hope that the fishermen are following the rules.  In numerous snorkels out on Paul Allen's Reef, which should be great habitat for this fish, I have not seen a single individual.  And so, this handsome fellow captured on this pristine, calm day, makes the blog.  At least there is one Achiles Tang left in Kona!

    Heading towards the Rescue Kiosk, I wandered into a thriving patch of Evermann's Coral and spotted a cleaning station.  As I arrived, an Orangespine Unicorn Tang was being serviced by a fine adult cleaner wrasse.  He swam off and was replaced by, of all things, a Coronetfish.  By this time, I had the camera out and who should swim in but a fine male Stareye Parrot.  There is something about getting cleaned that sends some fish into total ecstasy.  Just look at the way this big brute totally loses it and flops helplessly on his side while getting his parasites nibbled.  One is disposed to say that for the parrotfish this is better than sex. 

The Barred Spiny Puffer, Diodon Holocanthus, K Bay 2025

     So who do I think I am, the Dr, Phil of ichthyology?

    A short distance on, I ran across our friend from early in the season, the Diodon holocanthus, or barred spiny puffer.  In the interim, I have re-booted the camera, so it is taking better pictures and, of course, the conditions were perfecto.  So here you get a great look at an unusual puffer that is apparently being seen regularly in K Bay this winter. 

    My swim continued along the rocky shore beneath the Rescue Shelter.  This is a good place for Christmas Wrasse and octopus, neither of which made an appearance. It's also a good place for Pearl Wrasse and there were two large females in attendance. This fish has moved up in the standings to the point where, despite its undeniable beauty, it is heading into dirt fish territory.  You guys have seen plenty of Pearl Wrasse pictures.  

On the 4th day of Lent my Tutu gave to me...

    Once upon a time I saw a Leaf Scorpionfish among those rocks, so I always give them a careful look, but on this day to no avail.

   As I approached the two nautical orange buoys that the Reef Teachers hope will remind people not to walk on the bottom (might as well wish for a million dollars), I realized that I had some time remaining on the meter and so made another turn out into the bay.  Out in the middle, I was rewarded with an intact coral now home to four Hawaiian Dascyllus.  

    We see these keikis in K Bay occasionally, but usually only one or two at a time.  So this was a nice group and may be another indicator, along with the rejuvenating coral, that the water quality is improving.  I took a slew of pictures of this group and none of them turned out all that nice.  With small objects at a distance the camera has trouble deciding what to focus on.  

The underated Ambon Toby, Kahalu'u 2025

     I also took a movie, which shows the four little darlings swimming about.  The movie is in focus, but Google says it is too big to transmit, and I am too incompetent to do anything about the size.  I also have a movie of the Diodon holocanthus,  which show the swimming fish to great advantage.  Same problem, too big to transmit.   C'est domage, 

   Perhaps the next time I see you I can show you the movies on my cell phone.  Until then, you are stuck with the best of a poor lot, but with the happy knowledge that the baby dascyllus are alive and well.  

   As I made the turn for home I had one final treat in store.  The Ambon Toby is a common fish; I see it virtually every time out on the reef.  And, as you see here, it has a remarkable beauty when you can catch it to its best advantage. Luckily, I passed over a coral with a toby inside.  The light was good, and the fish was relaxed.  Using my flash to augment the iridescent blue face markings and flank spots, I captured the two pictures I'm leaving you with.  My lovely young editor is especially enamored with the peek a boo look from behind the coral.

Peek a boo Toby

   As I made my exit, I found that the tide was coming in and the water was about an inch deeper that when I began my odyssey, and this made a big difference in the boosting and scraping. 

   Ashore, I was greeted by my tutu and the indefatigable Kathleen Clarke, Queen of the Reef Teachers.  I was able to regale my audience with the Haig's Hermit Crab.  Kathleen is very knowledgeable about what is seen in her little piece of heaven, but she was not familiar with Haig's, so that was a small triumph.

    There was a lady of a certain age who joined our group.  She commented that she had the same camera as I but hadn't used it in three years.  She was impressed with the picture of the tiny Haig's hermit and asked how I did it.  What do you say?  First bring you camera into the water...  or  I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.  (Maverick in the first Top Gun movie.)  

   She was also interested in the D. holocanthus. which we had apparently seen together.  At this point Kathleen chimed in to say that in addition to the one we saw, a smaller one is being seen occasionally in K Bay.  Now that's good news.

   It was time to take my shower and Kathleen walked with me.  As we strolled, she revealed that on her surveys she usually sees around 44 species, with her record for the season being 65.  So much for that over 100 species baloney!

    Realizing where we were going, she pointed out that the showers were out of service.  Curiously the showers at Kahalu'u went dry just as the ones at the pier resumed function.  The foot washing station, with its three faucets, is still available and I joined the mob there to rinse my equipment.  It occurs to me that if one were so disposed, he could bring an empty two liter, fill it for his own shower and then offer to dump water on salty bathing beauties in need of a rinse. 

    (I have a special friend who would be disappointed if I didn't include a little bit of piggish behavior.)

Well, this was a long blog and I hope you enjoyed the pictures.  And if you're going to Kahalu'u, remember your empty two liter.

jeff

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The Kailua Pier has Restored Facilities

The usual suspects is what's on the menu.

    The good news for those of us who live in Kailua Kona and enjoy swimming and snorkeling is that the showers and changing rooms at the Kailua Pier have been restored to full working order.  It seems to have taken three months to set things right, but the hazard tapes and barricades have been removed and one is invited to take a refreshing shower after his or her swim.  The changing facilities are fully restored, as well.  

    The winter swell continues unabated, so my snorkeling has been confined to the pier.  Even on days when a cruise ship is in, there are never too many people on the hotel beach and the water has been acceptably clear.  If you are coming off the cruise ship and want to go snorkeling, see the usual suspects for this area, the pier is now a clean, convenient and safe option.  I recommend it!

   There have been no extraordinary sightings these last few weeks.  However, the usual group of fish 

we have are handsome and the coral appears no less depleted than usual, with a couple handsome meandrinas in the area just outside Paul Allen's lagoon.  Sadly, no amount of searching in these handsome branching corals has produced a speckled scorpionfish or a coral croucher.  And so, like that little freckled hawkfih, we are waiting for something tasty to come along.  With luck, our patience will be rewarded!

jeff

Sandra's Night Heron and a Filefish at Kahalu'u

       A few days ago, just before the big wind storm, the swell came down, the surfers put away their boards and we headed to Kahalu'u for a morning swim.  It was early, the tide was just high enough for an easy entry and I was soon in the water.  Sandra stayed behind to monitor the tourists and kibbitz with the reef teachers.

The southbound end of a batted filefish. 

   Considering everything, the cool winter weather and the persistent high surf, conditions were pretty good.  The water wasn't freezing and the current was manageable.  Early on I enjoyed a convocation of long spined black sea urchins.  It never ceases to amaze me how mobile these unusual animals can be.  Often they are attached to rocks or coral in a loose distribution, but sometimes they come out and get together, perhaps for breeding, but possibly they just enjoy each other's company.  

    On this day there were several young pearl wrasse in the mix, and I had some fun chasing them, trying to catch one of these elusive children with the camera.  The highlight, such as it was, was an adolescent Barred Filefish.  The Barred filefish comes in three flavors.   The juveniles are dark with white spots, the adults are much larger, a dark gray, resembling, to some extent, the lid of a tin garbage can.  The intermediate form is with a dramatic yellow tail.  

   The latter was what I found way out past the rescue shelter.  Like the wrasses, she was a rapid swimmer, but her yellow tail was so attractive that I devoted a bit of time trying for a picture.  I managed to get some pretty good pictures of the tail...the southbound end of a northbound filefish, but I never got a great profile photograph.

     As I came ashore, I was greeted by my beloved who had found a bird.  It was nearby on the reef and as we walked over to it, Sandra explained that it was quite a puzzle because it wasn't in the book. The book is Hawaii's Birds, published by the Hawaii Audubon Society.  This is a small paperback that found its way into the reef teacher's collection. If you want a good guide to the birds you see at the beach, any of the North American field guides are superior to this book. 

    The bird was easy, it was a juvenile Black Crowned Night Heron.  One sees this species occasionally at the beach, but usually in the adult form...a stately black head with a crest, a pure white bib and pearly breast.  The juvenile is streaked and looks much like a bitttern, which lives in marshes and is not found in Hawaii.  

Black Crowned Night Heron, juvenile  January 2025

    "Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny," I intoned as we walked into the shelter.  I would like to report that I was surrounded by a gaggle of bathing beauties bursting from their bikinis as I explained that juvenile animals of many an ilk look like a common ancestor.  The Hawaiian Cleaner Wrasse, for example, bears a single blue streak like its ancestor, that still thrives in the Western Pacific, the cradle of the reef.  Alas, Horatio, there were no voluptuous maidens to absorb these pearls of wisdom, just one stern looking reef teacher who looked like she might cold cock me if I got out of line.

   While I was showering, Sandra showed her excellent picture to our friend Yasuko.  She admired Sandra's handiwork and said, "Ahhh.  Io!"  My lovely wife knew that this was definitely not a Hawaiian Hawk, but in the name of Japanese-American relations she let it slide.  We need to keep the Japanese on our side or they might put a 15% tariff on sushi...right?

   And that's life from the beach...

jeff

A Kawaihae (not so happy) Update

     This week Sandra and I took a trip up to Kawaihae Harbor.  Due primary to sloth, this was our first venture to what had been one of our favorite snorkeling spots, certainly the one where we were most likely to see unusual invertebrates.

The Waikoloa goats were numerous and unafraid.

   Our first stop was the green waste depository at Waikoloa.  We approached the spot where we dump plants to find no people, but plenty of goats. There have always been goats, but this time they were more plentiful and didn't seem as wary of humans as one might hope.   Not knowing the Spanish word for goat, I shooed them away yelling, "Vaca, vaca."    They moved a remarkably short distance away and viewed me menacingly while I unloaded. 

   Having dispensed with our excess plant life and survived our goat encounter we headed up to Kawaihae.  As we entered the harbor complex, the first thing we noticed was the road to the small boat moorage that you encounter immediately after leaving the highway is closed.  This was of some concern, as this has always been the road to the restrooms, as well as the small boats.  When we reached the surf park, the mystery was solved.  Thay had abandoned that nice road into the moorage and directed all the traffic through the surf park.  Once equipped with this knowledge, it actually saves a little time if you need to access the facilities before or after swimming.  

Alas ,poor nudibranch.  I knew him, Horatio. A mollusk of infinite jest

   Soon we were dressed in our long suits, the better to swim among the cement pilings.  Once in the water, however, our expectations changed dramatically.  In the past, the water had been varying degrees of cloudy, based on the amount of sand and plankton on a given day.  Today the water was full of green algae to an extent that visibility was literally four feet.  Two years ago, we encountered a raft of floating wood chips, but we have never before seen algae.  As algae in such situations is often indicative of a sewage leak, this was extremely concerning. 

   We soldiered on, swimming around the first two platforms.  The visibility never improved.  As far as we could tell the variety of organisms was markedly reduced.  Although I have been taught that it is impossible to name the species of a sponge except in the lab, in the past we have seen black sponges and at least two types of orange sponges and light blue sponges.  On this day we saw a few minimal patches of orange sponge and nothing else.  No nudibranchs (some of which rely on the sponges for their daily bread), no feather duster worms, no shrimp and no hydras.  There were some sea cucumbers and few baby Dascyllus playing among the remaining cauliflower coral.  But compared to our previous experiences, this was an ecological disaster. 

White Saddle Goatfish, Kona, 2018

   Next to the breakwater, near the LST ramp, we spied a white saddle goatfish.  This is a rare fish in Kona and is reputed to be the most delicious of goatfishes.  He was a handsome fellow, swimming rapidly around the rip rap.  We saw some milletseed butterflies and a black tail snapper.  That was about it for noteworthy fish.

   The ramp into the ocean, fronting the surf park remains.  And the seaside shower with its view of Mauan Kea is still magnificent, as showers go.  But the ecological wonder of Kawaihae Harbor is apparently lost, at least for the time being. As Sandra and I were walking from the park to the harbor we were passed by a lifeguard in a truck pulling a trailer with a jet ski.   Given our get up, it was obvious that we were going swimming, and he didn't tell us that the beach was closed, so I assume the authorities are cool with people swimming here despite the water quality.  Sadly, if you want to see nudibranchs, colorful sponges and feather duster worms, that ship has sailed.

Sadly submitted,

jeff