This Week on the Beach...April 2015

  Over the last week, Sandra and I enjoyed three nice snorkeling trips made possible by cooperative weather and relatively mild seas.  We went to the old standby, Kahalu'u, where we saw the first immature Hawaiian

Ontogeny Recapitulates Phylogeny  Ooom.

Cleaner Wrasse for 2015.  Looking so much like the bluestreak cleaner wrasse of the Western Pacific, one finds himself muttering ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny into his snorkel.  We also saw a sweet baby stripe belly puffer.  Ashore, we had an extremely pleasant chat with a young Indian family.  Originally from somewhere near Goa, they were very pleased with our hot, humid climate.  If only Kona offered the same tech type jobs as San Jose...  Well, I don't even want to consider the ramifications of that.  Sorry honey, I guess we gotta find a different island that we can afford. 

    Yesterday we went to City of Refuge.  Mercifully, the crowd we encountered a month ago had thinned out significantly.  (Perhaps they all went back to San Jose.)  Way out on the north cusp we saw some nice fish, including a dozen pyramid butterflies, a pair of gilded triggerfish and a single immature mu.  Everybody was deep, deep, deep. That morning my sinuses had joined the other side,

Gilded Triggerfish, Hookena August 2013

preventing me from diving deep enough for a reasonable photograph.   I must note that the Gilded Trigger has never been sufficiently shallow for me to obtain a reasonable photo at City of Refuge.  Or, for that matter, anywhere besides Ho'okena, where deeper water fish seem to thrive at snorkeling depths.

    Sandra and I ate our lunch with a young German couple from Frankfurt.  Daniel showed us the newest bit of tourist tech: a 4 x 6 dry bag that suspends from your neck with an adjustable cord.  You put your $500 cell phone in the bag and it works almost as well as a $200 underwater camera.  Ausgezeichnet!

    I had fun trotting out a few fragments of German.  Herr Weinberger  (my German professor back at Fort Vancouver High School ca. 1969)  would be so proud.  All too soon it was time to say auf wiedersehen. 

Blacktail Snapper,  Beach 69,  April 2015

 As we schlepped our kram back to the car, I was only mildly surprised to meet a petite 20 something heading for the beach with her cell phone tucked into one of those  dry bags.  They appear to have replaced those damnable Go Pro sticks as the must have seaside accessory for the year of the sheep.  And not a moment too soon.   Baaa!

    Leaving the United Nations in the capable hands of Claire Underwood, what I really want to tell you about is our trip five or six days ago to Beach 69.  It was a perfect day up north, light breezes and not a trace of vog.  We were accompanied by our friends the Hillises, who are soon returning to Sand Diego.   Bob is a superb fish finder and we will miss him almost as much as his charming bride.

    Our target species was the Hawaiian Seahorse, rumored to live on the southern cusp of this small bay.   We did not find the seahorse, but we did discover that the southern end of Waialea Bay has vastly better

Big Bad Bluefin Trevally, Beach 69, April 2015

coral than the north cusp, where we had snorkeled before.  We saw five really large bluefin trevally.  .  These brutes were around four and a half feet in length, probably the largest ulua I have seen. One permitted me to swim close enough for a fine portrait.  By the small, rocky island we saw large examples of both high fin and bicolor chubs.  This is one of the few bays where spear and net fishing are prohibited and you can see the difference in the size and behavior of these fishes.  Both Bluestripe and Blacktail Snappers were abundant, as well.

    We have adopted Beach 69 as our favorite place to hang out up on the Kohala coast.  The combination of seaside shade and sugary soft sand is a rare commodity on the Big Island.  Now that we have discovered a large expanse of coral with a fine variety of large fish, we will be going there more often.  

jeff

Bluestripe Snapper at Beach 69

Surf and Turf (Actually Asphalt)

   Two days ago, I was permitted a short swim at Kahalu'u.  The limiting factor was a big Scrabble tournament scheduled to kick off at 11 AM.  In my experience, mid-February through mid-March is the time

Squid!  Kahalu'u February 7, 2013

when one might find squid wandering near shore.  There are few things that I find more delightful than calamari on the hoof and the aforementioned (imagine using that word in a game of scrabble) time period had expired without a single teuthidian.  I figured that I could take a quick swim around the bay, bring closure to Squidwatch 2015, and still get Sandra to Alii Villas for Scrabble at 11.  

    As it turned out, on March 20th we were plagued with a super moon.  It has been pointed out to me that during the new and full moon, the sun and moon are lined up, producing increased gravitational pull and increased tidal exchange.  This phenomenon is known as syzygy.  (Can you imagine slipping that into a triple word score?  Woof!)  This can happen in two different configurations, with the sun and moon on the same side or on opposite sides

Syzygy !

 of the emerald orb that we call home.  In this case, the celestial bodies were on the same side resulting in a solar eclipse seen around the world in Germany.  Ausgezeichnet!

   A super moon, being closer to earth, results in more gravitational pull and a greater tide differential. These are called "spring tides" not because they occur in that season when a young man's fancy turns to the fairer sex, but because the tide seems to spring towards the increased gravitational pull.

     All this physics and astronomy was salient because the low tide that day was at 10:02 AM at minus .21 feet.  The water in the sand channel was only 4 inches deep and your hapless correspondent was forced to slither over the rocks into the shallow bay like some stranded lungfish from The Rite of Spring.  (I assume Stravinsky was referring to the season,not the tide. Silly fellow.)


   My quick spin through K Bay revealed not a single squid.  C'est domage.  As I approached the exit, I noted that I still had ten minutes to play with, time for another quick swim across the bay.  My quick swim

 came to an abrupt halt when I saw a Rockmover swimming with some determination while carrying in his mouth what looked like a small rock.  Something about this didn't seem quite right, so I swam up, took a swipe at the rockmover and he obligingly dropped his burden.  Which I promptly retrieved. 

    To my delight, I found that I was holding a small Lumpy Box Crab, Calappa gallus.  Seen from above, this neat little crab looks exactly like a small rock.  It is lumpy, mottled gray and bits of algae and other detritus attach to its carapace.  When you flip it over, you see the handsome pink legs tucked inside.

     I now had a chance to retrieve my camera and I took the picture you see here of the underside of my box crab.  Looking through the corrective lenses of my mask, I was not able to discern what is obvious from the photo; one leg shy of a majority had been removed by the rockmover. 

The Yellowtail Coris is a Voracious Killer!

     Accidenti!  How was my little friend going to conduct his business with just five legs?  Well, we never got the chance to  find out.  Every time I put him down in an attempt to get a picture of his carapace, the wrasses attacked, not just rockmovers, but saddle wrasse and yellowtailed coris.  I tried putting him under rocks and yet they winkled him out with their sharp beaks.  Three or four attempts was enough to convince me that there was no saving the little fellow.  Last seen, he was in the grip of a yellowtail coris, who swam off with his prize, presumably in search of some tartar sauce and some dry white wine.  I believe my brother would recommend a sauvignon blanc from Marlborough, New Zealand.  Tastes like cat pee, goes well with fish.  Go figure.

  On our drive back up the hill, Sandra explained that far from winning the scrabble tournament she had finished fourth (out of four).  She had, however, managed to frustrate her competitors using tactics that, one conversant with the pub arts, might call "dirty pool".  When a triple word score loomed, she would

Jackson's Chameleon Morte

 occupy the adjacent squares with trivial words like vex, stiff and shaft.  Surprisingly, her competitors have invited her back for a rematch.  Or perhaps its not such a surprise.  Somebody has to lose, right?

   Once we got back to Casa Ono, Sandra set about preparing for the evening feast.  I was dispatched to fix the mailbox, the latch for which had fallen off a few days earlier.  While completing my task, I took notice of a small dead animal out in the road.  Having reattached the latch with some chewing gum and a wire twist, I directed my attention to the decomposing critter in the road.  I expected to find a toad, as a few manage to get squashed every time it rains. A quick glance and I exclaimed, "Holy shit!"  loud enough that Sandra abandoned her culinary efforts and came out to see what was the matter. 

    What we had here, decomposing at my feet was a curly tailed, three horned Jackson's chameleon.  In his prime, which apparently ended within the the last day or so, he had been a proud, handsome, breeding

Jackson's Chameleon Greenwell's Coffee  Feb. 2014

male.  You might think that I would regard this as a tragedy of unspeakable dimensions.  After all, six or seven more feet and he would have been in my yard.  To understand my mixed emotions, you have to understand two things.

   First, I am not too good at finding Jackson's chameleons.  At the chameleon farm, otherwise known as Greenwell's Coffee, I have required the sharper eyes of the proprietors  every time..even knowing that a chameleon is in the tree, I have never spotted one on my own.  And I have never seen one in my yard, despite incontrovertible evidence that they are there.

   Next, you need to the know the rule relating to adding dead birds to your life list.  As long as the bird has not been moved from the spot of its demise, it can be counted.  Many years ago in the rainforest of eastern Australia, my friend Mike

VanRonzelen and I applied this rule to a road killed echidna.  We felt sorry for the little fellow, but we were very happy to add it to the list for the trip.  Albeit with an asterisk.  As relates to this current situation, ain't nobody gonna tell me that someone came along and moved that chameleon.  He is plastered permanently to the asphalt.  And is equally affixed to my mental lifelist.

    I am looking in my trees with more determination, while recognizing my frailty vis a vis spotting chameleons.  And Sandra is studying her scrabble dictionary, prepping for the rematch.   Meanwhile, back down in the shallows the sky remains the limit.  Keep your eyes and mind open...who knows what you will find!

jeff

Editors note:   You will never see the word "syzygy" played in scrabble as the manufacturer provides only two Ys.


Scrabble board courtesy of the Redoubtable SKG.

Its hard to Dance With Only Five Legs.

   

   

   

A Kona Frogfish Tale

   This tale begins about a week ago.  I was supposed to go snorkeling with Bob Hillis on his day off, but I was not feeling quite right and sent him off swimming by himself.  This worked out well, because he went in

We Findum Frogfish.

at Kona Makai, our old home court rarely visited in our dotage, and he saw a frogfish.  Bob emailed me a report along with a photograph that evening.

   The next day it was raining.  We have just lived through a significant period of inclement weather.   (There was measurable rainfall six days out of nine, and here we thought we lived in the desert.)  However, with a frogfish at stake, a little rain wasn't going to keep me out of the water.  And Bob was available to point the way to the frogfish.

    Hence, at about 10 AM me and Chingachgook found ourselves on the rocks in front of Kona Makai.  This day we traded a little rain for very calm conditions.  The tide was midpoint and the sea virtually flat, if speckled by rain drops.  It was almost embarrassing how easy it was for Bob to swim out to the spot where he had seen the frogfish the day before, look up and say, "He is right below you."  

    At this point I need to say a word about frogfish.  They are lumpy and cryptically colored, therefore difficult to see.  This guy was perhaps nine inches in length...a pretty big fish.  He was positioned between two corals and so was more visible than he might have been.  He was a

 light gray green which blended well with the coral.  All this aside, frogfish are renowned for staying roughly in one place for days, weeks or months.  You may recall that last fall John Hoover thought we could find a frogfish over a month after I encountered  him at City of Refuge.  On that day, we did not find the frogfish, but it certainly reinforces the expert's belief that this fish stays in one place.

    Bob and I took multiple pictures of the frogfish.   And I took a couple pictures of Bob with the frogfish, which was about twenty feet deep and at the corner of the lava reef straight out from Alii Villas.  Being a better diver, he was able to descend the twenty feet and hang onto the coral to attempt a photograph.  He had read Hoover and Randall, and on at least one of his dives attempted to count the dorsal and pectoral rays, satisfying himself that this was indeed Commerson's Frogfish. (Lacking his diving ability, I took his word for it!). This says quite a bit about Chingachgook's ability to stay submerged at twenty feet and also a thing or two about the frogfish. i.e.,  He is exceptionally sedentary and remarkably tolerant of  close approach.

    Having our fill, finally, of the frogfish, we swam north along the shore in front of Sea Village, seeing a fine

Chingachgook counts the dorsal rays.

school of bicolor chubs.  John Hoover listed this fish in the Ultimate Guide, providing us with a new fish, and a handsome one, for the list.  Further on, I spotted a large trumpetfish that had eaten something slightly too large for complete swallowing.  He was swimming along with a red tail protruding from his mouth.  Depending upon one's thoughts on indigestion, it was pretty cute.  Definitely photogenic.

    Back at the ranch, Sandra was happy that I had seen Kermit's aquatic brother, but also a bit jealous.  It was no surprise that the next day we hauled all our stuff down to Kona Makai, only to decide that the conditions were just a little too rough.  To compensate for our lost opportunity, we repaired to Kamana Kitchen for a fine Indian lunch, saag paneer and chicken tikka masala.  Yummy.

Find the Lovely Lakshmi At Kamana Kitchen

    The Kamana Kitchen is run by a family from Nepal, where they apparently eat food similar to that served in Delhi.  The pater familias has imported a bevy of young female relatives to serve in his restaurants and at the Nepal shop in the Kona Inn shopping center a few blocks away.  Although our beloved Sri Jana was working in Hilo, where she also now attends the university,  her cousin Lakshmi stood in admirably.  One has to wonder, are all the girls in Kathmandu as pleasant as these two? And is all the food this delicious?  And where is the yak butter?  Food for thought.

   Over the next few days the ocean continued rough, but last night it was extremely still.  So after dropping off our yard debris, we went back to Kona Makai.  Well, the ocean was not calmer than three days earlier.

The Fishpond Entry at Kona Makai Wasn't This Rough!

 But how long is a frogfish supposed to stay in one place?  I was determined to get out there, if only so I could write this blog. And Sandra was darned if she would be left behind.

    So down on the rocks we went, noting sadly that the tide was low, making it more difficult to get out onto our preferred lava shelf.  And modest sets were rolling in.  Brave of heart, we slipped into the water and swam out through a myriad of bubbles, over the lava tube and into the bay.  The underwater topography at Kona Makai is quite distinctive and we are extremely familiar, so it was no problem to find the correct spot. Alas, there was no frogfish.  We swam in widening circles and could not find our friend within five yards of the spot where he had resided so cooperatively four days earlier.

    At least we were rewarded with an adventure.  As we entered the bay the swell increased and my lovely wife required two attempts before she sat triumphantly on the lava.  For us, there is always a sense of

The End of the Tale!

 accomplishment when we complete our swim at Kona Makai.  (It is the inability of the swimmer to accurately pick a time between sets for his or her exit, as well as rapidly changing ocean conditions, that make Kona Makai an intermediate swim on most days.)

    Up on the deck, the residents and tourists were reading their papers and enjoying the morning sun.  As we were waiting for our suits to dry, a brown booby flew close to shore and then swiftly back out to sea.  So on this day we traded an unusual bird for  an unusual fish.  And we are both safe and sound up in Casa Ono to tell the tale.

jeff

   

A Whale Story From City of Refuge

   Last Monday Sandra and I made a spur of the moment decision to go to City of Refuge.  We arrived around 10:30, so there was no need to wait for the fish to wake up; we changed quickly and made our way to the Two Step entry.  This winter, there has been a large number of people sunning themselves on that particular patch of lava...we had to thread our way between bodies to get to the bay. 

    We had picked this day because the internet promised relatively flat conditions.  This time it was correct and we made the entry without any difficulty.  Luckily, all those people occupying space on the lava did not translate into heavy traffic at the entrance. 

    Swimming around to the north cusp, we saw a modest number of usual suspects.  In hopes of seeing the African Pompano we patrolled over the deeper water.  We did not see that threadfin jack, but about forty feet down we could just make out a female Hawaiian hogfish.  This is actually a pretty rare animal at snorkeling depths here in Kona.  It was my first one for 2015 and I won't be surprised if it is the only one for the year.

     On the way back, we saw a pair of Hawaiian Dascyllus breeding.  For their matrimonial bed they had selected a head of lobe coral about 15 feet down.  They were a gorgeous white with extremely dark faces

I dive down, they dive down.

 and tails.  The space they had selected in the coral was just the right size for two to do the hootchey kootchey.

     Having bragged about the clear water the week before, I feel obligated to tell you that there were significant patches of dark, cloudy water interspersed in the bay.  I took a quick trip outbound while Sandra headed in.  About fifty yards straight out, I saw four Pyramid Butterflyfish.  Of course, I tried to get a picture, but when I dove to get closer, they dove to keep their distance.

    Soon, sweetie and I were threading our way through the throng.  Being cold creates a bit of spastic ataxia, so I may have bumped into a couple of chit chatters on the way.  Whoops. 

    While we were out, a couple had parked their chairs on the lava hump adjacent to our warming wash bottle.  Never the less, we were able to take our improvised shower, get changed and settle down in our beach chairs for some lunch. 

     In my description of this bay, written a couple years ago, I put forth the assertion that you should arrive early if you want to see dolphins.  Further, if they haven't made an appearance by noon, you are probably free to leave.  Well, eithr this day was the exception that proves the rule, or I am full of you know what.  A small pod of dolphins arrived just as  I started in on the second half of my peanut butter and banana sandwich.  Apparently I am too lazy to walk across the street to watch a piss ant eat a bale of hay (Willie Nelson speaking of Waylon Jennings) because I just sat there, continued eating and watched other people get their dolphin time. 

    But then!  About fifteen minutes after the dolphins arrived, a petite lady tourist  announced to the assemble multitude that she saw a whale off shore.  Indeed, we could see it spout about a half mile out in the sea. It sounded once and the next thing we knew, it was much closer.  The whale came all the way into the bay,

 getting within ten yards of the twenty or so snorkelers that were out there with the dolphins.  At this point, it was probably a mere 70 yards off shore. 

    It was very light in color, a lighter gray than the side of the coast guard cutter that occasionally spends a night at anchor in Kailua.  And it was substantially smaller than the breeding adult humpback whales we have seen at a similar distance.  Our best guess is that it was a one year old humpback.  Research will reveal that t is highly unusual for false killer whale to come close to shore.  Further, that whale sports a relatively tall, narrow dorsal fin, hence imitating an orca.. Duplicitously.  

   How I wish I had been in the water at this instant.  Did I have time to throw my suit back on when the dolphins arrived?  I will always wonder.  And did I have time to fish the  water camera out of my swimsuit that was only five feet away?  See Willie and Waylon above.


jeff 2015

From the Land of Sky Blue Waters

    Winter here in the land of rainbows is the time of the year when things cool down.  When the Hamm's bear gets up in the morning, he puts on a coat and maybe even a hat.  And the water cools down to an even

greater degree.  The green and brown algae that clings like a shroud to the rocks on the bottom of the bays dies off.  And so does the algae suspended in the water.  The bays look clean.  And the water is clear, providing a great opportunity for said bear to pick up his camera and take some pictures.  Lofty balsams aside, if you want to take pictures of fish, there is no substitute for clear water.

    This week the surf was calm enough to let the water clear up to a startling degree.  Sandra and I went snorkeling at the pier on Wednesday and the folks changing, apres swim, at the cubby wear all, "The water is sooo clear today."  Of course, it was a little cold , too, but not so bad.

    In the shallows in front of the Fish Hopper, Sandra found a small porcupinefish.  Not so unusual on the

  Paul Allen side, but a nice find in the well illuminated shallows. 

     Just past the last swim buoy, I spotted twenty or more milkfish.  I would like to propose, that if it is a murder of ravens and a flamboyance of flamingos, shouldn't it be a dairy of milkfish?   Just think about that while you are pouring the 2% on your cheerios.

     The milkfish were a nice find.  Our records reveal that we saw them last  in Kailua Bay in January of the previous year .  Our last two spottings were at Manini Bay and at Waialea (Beach 69)  in May of last year. They are large, shiny and blend into the sandy background.  If the water hadn't been clear, we probably wouldn't have seen them.

    John Hoover interviewed an expert on aquaculture in the Philippines who reported that when cooked, milkfish turn the broth a milky white.  (When you add ouzo to water the same thing happens, although I

suspect that the chemical reaction is different.)  She also said that the milkfish are delicious when grown in brackish ponds.  Back in 2013, while strolling past the handsome fish pond at the Mauna Lani Bay Hotel with our nephew Andrew, we happened upon three people harvesting milkfish.  Lying there on the manicured lawn, there were four big, beautiful fish, at least three feet in length.  And if you can believe the lady in the P. I,, delicious.  I sincerely regret that search as I may, I can not find a photograph of these particular milkfish and the people hauling the monsters onto the lawn.  Mea culpa.

   Back in the cool clear water, I chased the dairy of milkfish and captured the picture you see here.  I wasn't able to get within ten meters, so the picture isn't outstanding.  But delicious fish have to take precautions, right?

  After dealing with a whitebar surgeon that was so yellow I wanted to turn it into a masked rabbitfish (which

it most assuredly was not) we made the turn for home.  Immediately we ran into a pair of scribbled filefish.  Sandra recalls her first trip to Hawai'i and a scribbled filefish that followed her around K Bay.  Since that day, Mr. Scribble has been her totem.  Thus, we stopped to admire this pair.  Initially on the bottom they were splotched dark and light.  After a moment, though, one ascended and lightened to the classic pattern that I was able to capture to the great effect you see here.
 
     Returning through  the shallows, Sandra struck pay dirt again.  She watched as a lizardfish made a dash and then settled right in front of her.  What she then saw was  the taciturn visage of an Orangemouth Lizardfish.  He sat there stolidly while I captured his

image replete with those blazing orange lips. These are easily my best pictures of this colorful and unusual species.

Yesterday I went snorkeling with the indefatigable Bob Hillis.  He had hoped to get in at Mile Marker 4, which is that little bay adjacent to White Sands Beach Park.  Too bad for him, he had hooked up with a wuss who didn't want to get cut to shreds. 
   
     We ended up at Kahalu'u, which was amazing.  The water was clear throughout the bay, unprecedented in my experience.  And the fish were numerous and  determined to show off.    Between us we found 4 species of moray eels and a great many of the usual suspects in their brightest colours.   Bob must have taken over one hundred pictures.  I didn't do too badly myself with the Red labrid Wrasse and the Arc Eye Hawkfish.   This Red labrid was less

than three centimeters in length.  I have to give the camera a lot of credit.  Its ability to focus quickly and coordinate the flash creates some remarkable images of tiny underwater animals.

    The arc eye hawkfish  was very patient with me, allowing me several opportunities to dive down and  brace against the current for a picture.  It's not often that a hawkfish allows several approaches with in two feet.  From their skittish behavior, one might deduce that they are also delicious.  It took a only a little work at home to clean up the image to the one you see here.  Not too shabby...nothing like clear water, a fast camera and a Hamm's beer.

 A gorgeous Stocky Hawkfish  perched cooperatively in the open and a stout moray eel maneuvered in and out of a coral to complete the day.   We had swam for almost two hours in the chilly bay, but it was well

 worth a few shivers.  It's hard to imagine taking a hot shower and then hiding under a quilt for an hour on a sultry Hawaiian afternoon.  But I'm here to tell you, if you work things just right, it can happen.

Last night we had dinner with some friends down at the beach.  As we dined on homemade chili and rolls, we listened to the rising surf as it banged against the rocks.  Time for the Hamm's Bear to don a new persona.

jeff     

The Eel With The Midas Touch

     The winter of turbulent seas has continued virtually unabated.  Our buddies Bob and Kim Hillis noted a break in the high surf and we made the most of it with a trip to 49 Black Sand Beach.  Although there was a surfeit of vog inland, the sky over the beach was a briliant blue.  The little bay was flat, but the water

A Recent Sighting on Alii Drive

was cloudy.   There were mostly usual suspects, along with more snorkelers than I have previously seen at this venue.  We all had a nice swim and then enjoyed some spectacular whale watching from the picnic area adjacent to the petroglyph trail.

      Yesterday, hopeful that we would get one more day of swimable water, Sandra and I bopped down to Kahalu'u.  On the way we noted the spot where the lady torched herself and her estranged husband.   This is somewhat less amusing, as he passed last Thursday.  She remains in critical condition at the Straub Burn Center, now charged with second degree murder.  KHNL, in an attempt to keep the story humming, reported this evening that the deceased bore the name Ghenghis Khan Kaaihue.  The Golden Horde integrated several religions as it expanded across Asia

Don't you wish that you could look over your shoulder?

 and the exact location of the first Ghenghis Khan are unknown.  Thus, its difficult to predict to what better place this latter day khan aspired.  But I hope he made it there, whatever or where ever it may be.

    Down at the now infamous beach park, we noted substantially more wave action than we had hoped.  We entered the water on the mauka side, as our usual entrance has been scoured to a washboard of lava.  As I negotiated the rocky channel, I was passed by the most handsome chub I have ever seen.  He was a just entering his teens, about the size and shape of a brook trout, and he bore a handsome coat of evenly spaced bright white spots over a burnished silver field.  These were not large spots like you see on some adults, but a panoply of spots less than half a centimeter across.  This adolescent chub was so handsome that I hope to receive a tie in his image next Christmas.

    I turned to take his picture, but the water was only eight inches deep and swishing in and out over the rocks.  Mui pelogrosso!.  Sandra, trailing right behind me, spotted the fish.  So distinctive was this little fellow, that she knew what I was looking for.  And she saw a second, which she reported as having less

Banded Moray Eel  Kahalu'u February 2015

 brilliant spots.  Despite her encouragement I could not get to where the fishes were and my description will have to suffice.  C'est domage.

     Out in the bay, we encountered a hermit crab harboring in a coral depression.  If you look at the picture, you will perhaps identify him as a Hidden Hermit Crab, Ca. latens.  As I was taking his picture, he was looking back at me over his shoulder.  Note how those muscular eye stalks are able to bend back like a pair of fiberoptic endoscopes. Had I, at that moment, required an ERCP, I would have been in luck.  He might have even given me a professional discount.  Much like that offered by tiger sharks to the lawyers.

  Out by Surfer's Rock, we encountered a pair of hunters in full hooded wet suits and brandishing spear guns.  Like a pair of sea going banshees they was. Arrr. Not satisfied with depleting the fish with their weapons, they were stomping mercilessly on the coral.  How I wished that the bastard who admonished my

The distinctive tail pattern of G. ruepellii

beloved a few weeks ago for the merest grazing of the coral was there to read these villains his vituperative brand of the riot act.  Now that would have made for some good theater.

    "You Can't Step On The Coral!"   Thunk.  "You Can't Shoot Me In the Guts!"  Sometimes our imagination has to suffice.

    Making the turn into the cloudy water over by the Rescue Kiosk, I was hoping for a Milletseed, an octopus, or at least a Pearl Wrasse.  Instead, my eyes were drawn to a blaze of gold, which was the head of a Banded Moray (G. ruepellii)  This was a pretty big guy, more than three feet in length.   He was coiled in the rocks, threatening with open jaws.  We got down within a foot for a  photograph.  What a handsome golden head!  He turned in the coral to reveal the gray and buff bands on his flank and the dorsal line, a fine ribbon of distinctive black and white corresponding to the alternating bands on the body. 

    After a bit, he broke cover and swam about ten feet, disappearing  into another coral.  During his exposed swim we nabbed a full body photo and an inferior moving picture.

    It was a delightful sighting of this handsome eel which is far more common at night than during the day.  For those of you new to fish identification, remember that the Undulated Moray (G. undulatus) may sport a dusting of gold on his noggin. And his body may or may not have the chevron banding pattern.  Hopefully when you see a banded moray he will have the distinctive flank pattern you see here.  Not to mention the blazing golden head!

jeff

Ghenghis Khan Kaaihue

Ghenghis Khan Kaaihue

Ghenghis Khan Kaai

 

The Eel With the Midas Touch.

      

The Winter of the Big Surf

Kailua Nights

   In late January, Sandra and I took a quick trip to Portland to visit our growing family.  While we were gone, the Kona Coast experienced some huge surf.  A friend sent me a  link showing killer waves reaching the third story of the Sea Village condo, where I watched the Huskies win the Orange Bowl and a slice of

Flying Gurnard  Kailua Bay  February 2015

the National Championship.  Lucky for me that day was January 1, 1984. Just imagine how wet the familia Hill would have been if it was January 2015!  I regret that I can not share this clip with you, as it has been removed by the (spoil sport) poster.  Take my word for it.  The waves were crashing more than 40 feet up the side of the building!

    Even though you can't see the video, you can see the effects of this period of monster surf all along the Kona Coast.  The sandy entrance at K Bay has been washed away.  My tips on entry are more pertinent than ever...assuming that you have tender feet...like me.

    And how about the woman that incinerated herself and her ex at Kahalu'u a few days ago?   Succussfully stalking her estranged husband and his special ladyfriend, parked harmlessly on Alii drive above K Bay, she started pouring gasoline on their car.  When the  ex got out to confront her, she switched to Plan B: soaking them both and flicking her Bic.  Whoosh!

Pinktail Triggerfish,  Kahalu'u  2015

   I guess you don't need to be concerned for your safety, as she is safely ensconced in the burn center at Straub on Oahu.  And not to worry, Kailua's finest called in OSHA to make sure that any residual petroleum did not endanger our friends with fins.  But I digress.

    On one of the seemingly innumerable high surf days we went to Beach 69.  The beach where we love to camp out in the shade apre snorkel has been largely reduced to rocks, with a large rocky berm barring your access.  This big surf was a big deal.

     In spite of all the high surf, we have found some breaks to get in some snorkeling.  My best find has been  a juvenile gurnard in the shallows at the  pier.  I'm also including here pictures of pink tail triggerfish and elgant coris taken at Kahalu'u prior to the

Elegant Coris  Kahalu'u 2015

 conflagration.  although we haven't seen Paul Allen this winter, his reef seems to have survived the surf.  On a recent outing, we saw this scribbled filefish lurking beneath an overhang of lava.

    Perhaps the biggest news is that I have survived another birthday.  My  nadar cumpleaños on the Ironman side of the pier did not reveal much in the way of interesting fish.  But it at least reaffirmed that I am still able to get in and out of the sea. There were lots of young tourists around marveling at a green sea turtle; the next generation of fishwatchers in the making.

jeff  

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