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