Summer in the City Or the Missing Link

       At long last Sandra and I made it to the City of Refuge.   City is one of our favorite places to go snorkeling, but between upper respiratory infections and hurricanes, this was really our first opportunity since returning from Portland.  On this sunny morning, we

Nants Ingonyama Bagithi Baba. 

were lucky to be accompanied by Bob and Kim Hillis.

     Even before we got out of the car I could see swimmers congregated in the area that dolphins frequent.

  A moment's observation revealed that the dolphins were indeed in attendance, so we donned our gear wiki wiki (as quickly as possible) and headed out to the dolphins.  Sandra and I enjoyed a few close passes and nabbed some photos.   The pod sported two fine looking babies.  The circle of life. Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba.  This,of course,  begs the question, "Is the spinner dolphin the lion of the Kona Coast?"  Given his nobility and strong family values, I'm inclined to vote yes.  And rumor has it that this season the Aloha Theater will be showcasing the premier of the Dolphin King.

Hele Me Hoohiwahiwa Nai'a

     After about fifteen minutes of communing with the dolphin king and his heir apparent, Sandra and I headed over to the north cusp.  Along the way we saw a lot of Thompson's surgeonfish, which after all these years I am finally finding a bit more common than I previously thought. Or perhaps they actually are increasing in numbers. 

      Out on the reef in about twenty feet, I saw a fish that I had long speculated about, a Very Long Nose Butterflyfish (Forcipiger longirostris) that was clearly transitional between the yellow form and the black, which is actually very dark brown.  Because of the way I remembered my two experts comments (Jack Randall and John Hoover in their signature field guides), I had accepted that these two morphs were created this way from conception and did not change from one coloration to the other.  This is how I described the fish to Jack and John:

    This fish had a black face that seemed to extend further caudally than on the yellow variety.  The flanks  appeared to have a yellow ground with rows of black scales

 lying over.  This gave the flank a dusky or bronzy appearance, most unlike the bright yellow of the usual yellow variety.

     This unusual fish swam into the coral head you see in the picture, out and over the top and down the other side.  Immediately he swam under a coral about twenty feet down and refused to come out. 

   While all this was going on, I nabbed three pictures, the best of which you see here.  Yes, I agree, its not a very good picture.  In fact, I included my field notes above to compensate for this poor photographic effort. Sometimes God grants you the opportunity to take a beautiful picture and sometimes you take what you can get to document a sighting.  Clearly this is a type 2 picture. 

    In the event that you think I can't take a fish picture, I am including a nice one of a mixed pair of longirostii taken a year ago at City when we went searching (vainly) for the frogfish with John Hoover.  All kidding aside, this demonstrates what we usually see rather nicely.
    It turns out, I did not need to ask Jack and John their opinion of the transitional longirostris.  In the Ultimate Guide... Hoover writes, "Occasional individuals ...turn completely blackish brown..."  I actually read this description (inadequately) before sending off my query.  Do I enjoy living a life of faux pas?  Not really, but sometimes it seems that way.  On the other hand, poor reading skills seem to give one the opportunity for individual thought.   

Transition longirostris, John Hoover's iPad app

      In his reply to me, John Hoover said, "Jeff, Of course they change from yellow to black! And probably the other way too. See lower right photo, taken on Oahu. (This is a screen from my iPad app). - John.

   Not only did my expert chide me (ever so gently) but in the manner of all good authors he encouraged me to purchase his latest product.   To repay his kindness, I am passing on the plug for the iPad app and I'm also including here the picture from the page that he sent along.  I don't own an iPad, but we do have a few android devices.  I'll find out if this app is available for us android users and, in the spirit of the great Sarah Palin (who I believe is one of the pioneers in poor reading skills!) I'll get back to ya on that one.

    Jack Randall's reply was a bit more amusing:

Jeff:     In 1961 I published the description of the very dark brown Longnose Butterflyfish as Forcipigerinornatus (meaning not ornate).  You can imagine my consternation when a friend, who had one in his aquarium, called me to say it was turning yellow.    Aloha, Jack 

A mixed pair of F. longirostris, City of Refuge, Sept. 2014

     In case you missed it, Jack Randall has been naming fish for more than half a century. Wow!

    As a final follow-up, I discovered that it is highly likely that all lonirostris are born yellow and only the brave ones on the turn black. This seems to happen more often on the Kona Coast than anywhere else on the planet.  John Hoover passes this down to us groundlings from the work of Richard Pyle.  The internet is an amazing thing and I was able to google Dr. Pyle who, as you can see, looks like he ought to be on the Orca with Quint and Richard  Dreyfuss comparing scars.   When he is not fighting enormous sharks, he serves as a zoologist at the Bishop Museum.  Arr!

When I was a squirt, every kid wanted to be a harpooner.

     After the exciting encounter with the longirostris, the Dolphin Queen and I swam back to the two step entry. (I am repeatedly annoyed when City is called Two Step. And I really like beating my head against the wall because it feels so good when I stop.)   Here Sandra went ashore and I hitched up with Bob to go shark hunting.  Our friends the DeLukes saw the shark here about a month ago, so we knew it was possible.  And, like Quint, I was obsessed in my search for the shark.

     Bob knew the place where the resident white tipped reef shark hangs out and had attempted to impart that information to me.  A few months ago I had attempted to find the shark following his instructions, but to

no avail.  We swam south across the bay, closer to the National Park than I had ever been, and then followed the shore towards the sea.  Bob finally stopped at an area of healthy coral and showed me a small alcove where two large coral heads almost meet.  Only ten feet deep at  the top of the overhang and perhaps

Hina and Ku Send Birthday Greetings to Don in New Hampshuh.

twenty feet wide, this shark puka is less than fifty yards north of the two remarkable tikis in the park.  I had in fact been very near this spot in my previous search, but did not go close enough to the south shore.  In any event, there was no shark at home on this day. 
 
    The four of us enjoyed a sumptuos lunch at Chez Sandra, which looks remarkably like a picnic table by the bay, and then it was time to go home.  As our guests disembarked, Kim Hillis looked at me and asked, "Can't I get back in the air conditioned car?"  Its been that sort of summer here in Kona.  I hope your fish watching is as hot as our weather.

jeff



      

From the Land of Hotter Water

   This week my lovely wife rejoined the fish watching team.  Depending on what you like, its a really good time to be a snorkeler in Kona.  The ocean water is really warm and it

Now that's what I call fine dining !

is so darn hot that when you are done with your swim, the cold shower feels simply mahvelous, dahling..  So good, in fact, that we are tempted to take a tray table to the beach and have dinner while enjoying a cold shower.  I believe Cosmo Kramer pioneered that idea and this summer in Hawaii, it seems like he was really on to something.

    The day of Sandra's return, we went for a swim on the Ironman side of the pier.  As we strolled down to Alii Drive, we were shocked to see a pod of dolphins swimming between the fourth swim buoy and pier; they were as close as I have ever seen them.   Of course, by the time we changed into our snorkel gear, the dolphins and their attendant school of paddle boarders were long gone.  A day late and a dolphin short once again. 

     Schmoopie and I had a really nice swim.  There was a whitemouth moray near the pier and  a couple of juvenile dascyllus to keep us interested.  On the way in,

Pebbled Butterfly  C. multicinctus  Kailua Kona 2015

I found a Blacktail Snapper chilling (as if that was possible this summer) under a coral head.  He hung around patiently while I snapped his picture.  This handsome fish is clearly becoming more common.


     As  I was photographing the second dascyllus, who was dodging about a cauliflower coral in the clear water by the pier, I managed to nab these nice pictures of a Pebbled Butterfly and a Freckle Faced Hawkfish.  Common fish, to be sure, but not so easy to get an excellent photograph.

    The following afternoon I went out with Bob Hillis out on the PAR.  Between colds and bad weather, I hadn't even seen Bob, much less went fish watching with him, since our return from Portland.  In 
the Inner Harbour, on the first look after putting on the old flippers, I saw a small gurnard.  Bob was happy, saying he had never seen one in there.  I, in turn

Mr Freckleface hard by the Kailua Pier.

recalled seeing one with Sandra a couple years earlier.  She attempted to warn the nearby bathers of the danger, which, as it turns out, is non-existent.   This is just as well because the tourists paid her no heed, the Philistines.

       Out on the PAR, there was a moderate amount of surge.  There were plenty of Whitespotted Surgeons and I took the picture you see here.  A lucky shot which combined a well illuminated subject caught in crisp focus by adept panning as he swam by.  Que suerte, no?

    Bob is prone to dive down and look into caves and under things like disenfranchised rudders.  On one such venture, he chased a pair of of reticulated butterfiles out from under a dismembered portion of a long forgotten cement pier.  By comparison, I'm happy

when I chase a gecko out from behind a picture hanging on my living room wall.  On another dive, he reported that there was a turtle harboring beneath a small lava outcropping about fifteen feet below the surging surface.  

    As you may recall, I don't have a lot of lost love for green sea turtles.  Like some small children with vindictive parents, the turtles have a propensity to get me in trouble.  My new best friends back in Camas, Wa., the Redoubtable Gail and Martin DeLuke, like turtles quite a bit.  I know this because Martin made a disc for us with pictures of all the good things they saw in their four weeks here in the land of mahalo.  As a solid third of Martin's pictures were of turtles in various stages of undress, I feel safe in saying that the DeLukes really like turtles.  It is of some related interest that Gail teaches school and thus is the one to decide who gets in trouble.  I hear through the  Washougal  underground that she wields a wicked ruler.  Even as I write these words, I can feel the back of my hand throbbing in pain.  I won't do it again,

Bob Hillis, "I tot I saw a Puddy Tat"  Or was it a turtle?

Mrs. DeLuke.  I promise.

   There was no way  I was going to dive fifteen feet to see a damn turtle, so we moved on to other flotsam, jetsom, caves and wreckage. Not to mention the occasional fish.  Maybe if Martin had been there, he would have dove down to see the benighted turtle in his cavern.  There is little doubt that he is a better man than I, held in especially high esteem by the Sandwich Island Society of Sea Turtles.   He's got the pictures to prove it!

   But I digress. 

     We swam out about twenty yards further than I had gone previously, crossing a lava reef outside the little lighthouse.  As I turned to go back, I discovered that I was in a significant current.  I tucked the Olympus in my pocket and swam like hell for about a minute, finally achieving a patch of slower moving water.

Forster's Hawkfish,  P.forsteri  Kahalu'u Sept 2015

    A bit later I appraised my swim buddy of this experience and he replied that he suspected that there might be a strong current going around the point, so he swam further out and around.   Hmmm.  Sort of makes you wonder when he was going to tell me.  About the time I reached Maui?

    Yesterday afternoon,  Sandra and I made it to Kahalu'u.  By 2 PM many of the people from the cruise ship (I am no longer permitted to call the Rubber-nosed Geeks or Sea Going Rats) had headed back for the afternoon buffet.   Out near Surfer's Rock we saw one of  our favorite immatures.  I call it Forster's Hawkfish, it being the child of Mr. and Mrs. Freckeface, aka P. forsteri.  Young master Forster is a handsome lad with a jaunty chartreuse cap.

    A bit further on we saw a busy bluestripe cleaner wrasse plying his trade on a black durgon.  Would have made a great picture, but I wasn't fast enough.

  As we headed in for a landing, I was struck by how warm the water was near shore.  On this afternoon I believe it topped 90 degrees at the sand channel entry.   The cool shower that followed felt especially good.  I kept looking around for Kramer bringing a tray table and a cool green salad.


jeff
   

We've Got Crabs

    Having a variety of errands and chores lined up for the afternoon, this morning Sandra and I headed for Kahalu'u.  We arrived to find a gentleman painting the tables inside the

We're Painting the Tables Green

  shelter.  Only the ones inside, mind you, so the ones on the fringe of the shelter were available for our belongings.  Not to mention the poster boards and books of the Reef Teachers.

     Sandra is still languishing with my cold, so off I went, alone again.  Close in, I had not yet cleared the turbid water, I encountered an adolescent yellow margin hunting actively.  This was my first moray eel since our return from the Rose City, so I took some pictures heedless of the water clarity.  As you might expect, the results spoke for themselves.

    When one is just returned from the mainland, not yet jaded, he or she is likely to take pictures of the same old fish.  Today I nabbed a nice one of a Palenose Parrotfish.  I have always thought that this beautiful animal should have a better name and under my breath I mutter, "Princess Parrotfish."    That this common name was given to a fish found in

The Princess Parrotfish Holds Court at K Bay

 Florida, I attribute to blatant favoritism on the part of the judges.  This in no way reduces my enjoyment of this fish.  And its a pretty good picture.

     After completing the loop, I took my usual swim into the middle.  There I found this odd sac like structure floating by.  Its clearly not a jellyfish, and I do not think that it is of human origin (eg a plastic bag).  For the moment I have it filed under curiouser and curiouser.

     Finally it was time to come in.  Just before I made my turn into the entry, among the large rocks, I spotted a magnificent crab tooling along right out in the open.  At the moment I spotted him,  he was quite close and headed my way.  One thing you can say for K Bay, if you see something there its certainly shallow and you therefore have a chance of

Convex Crab, Kahalu'u, August 2015

 a close approach without making a fifteen foot dive.  A careful approach brought me within a few feet, close enough to get some pictures with very little water between my lens and the subject.  After cooperating for a dozen quick  pictures, he scuttled under a rock three feet below the surface leaving no trace of his presence. 

    The crab immediately reminded of a seven eleven crab.  He was a handsome brute with a mottled geometric pattern.  I had to work through Hoover's Sea Creatures more than once to satisfy myself that I had found my first convex crab.  For one thing, Hoover gives the maximum carapace as 3 inches and this individual was surely bigger than that.  (I had initially thought five inches.)  The typical individual bears a monotonous coppery carapace.  The diagnostic marking, though,  is the two distinct dots you see in the middle of the carapace.  Convex Crab, Carpillius convexus, Forsska 1775.  

     Up on the beach, we were in for another treat.  While I was showering off the salt, and discussing Pacific Northwest forest fires with a  family from Coos Bay, my attention was drawn to a pair of girls who were

giving snorkeling information to a Japanese family.  Finished with the Japanese, they came over and gave me a pleasant talking to, as well.  Don't step on the coral, tiny creatures, home for baby fishes...they hit all the talking points and were about twenty times as cute as the average reef teacher.   In turn, I hauled them over to the Reef Teacher display and forced them to look at the Phoenix Island Damselfish.  Remember, girls, no good deed goes unpunished.

    I found Sandra at our table outside the shelter.  She had enjoyed a lesson from a trio of  chicas, and managed to get a snapshot in the process.  One can only hope that such efforts help this well worn bay.  After telling me about the reef, Sandra told of watching the table painter.  Apparently the county had given

him only one wet paint sign and just enough danger tape to fence off the shelter on three out of four sides.  Before the young reef teachers arrived, she had found much amusement watching the painter chase tourists from his tables.  He spent more time defecting tourists than he did actually painting.


    As we strolled to the car, we imagined the beleaguered table painter wearing a card, a three of clubs, say, and we sang a rousing chorus of painting the tables green.  Curiouser and curiouser.


We're Painting the Tables Green.
It  won't Upset the Queen.
But if it should, they're made of wood.
And we can wipe them clean.

If the Queen should want them Red,
We both might lose our heads!

Convex Crab, Carpillius convexus, Kahlu'u August 2015

 The Odd Sac..

Hurricane Kilo

    Summer is the season when the the meteorologists in Hawaii cover hurricanes.  Because of the potential harm that they represent, the television audience, aka the potential victims, are spell bound by the colorful
maps and the ever changing explanations and forecasts.

Jennifer Robbins at KHNL

    This week Kauai is supposed to get hammered by Hurricane Kilo.   We have seen countless maps showing how Kilo will pick up power in the warm ocean south of the island chain and then buttonhook up to smash the Garden Island.  Wham!  The rest of us were supposed to get moderate winds and buckets of rain. When I checked the weather on this very computer yesterday morning, the pundits said that it was supposed to rain all day.  By noon, the sky was clear and it was hot, damn hot.  Hurricane or no hurricane, I knew it was time to go to the beach to cool off and maybe see some fish.

    It was logical, Kilo beginning with K, that I would chose K Bay for yesterdays outing.  As on any sunny Satrurday, Kahalu'u Beach Park was the site of a family gathering; the

Baby Dascyllus at K Bay

Tobias family had partitioned off the shelter with colorful ribbons and balloons.  One of those signs that you order up from Walmart heralded  the "Tobias Baby Shower".  Lucky for me, the Reef Teachers left just as I arrived, permitting me to nab a choice shaded parking spot and a portion of a table in the shade, albeit just outside the shelter.  My sense of inconvenience being as low as it possibly could be when displaced by such a gathering, I was able to say, "God bless the Tobiases and their progeny!"

     The tide was high but the bay was pretty flat   The water at the entrance was really warm, perhaps 90 degrees, and really murky.  However, as I swam into the bay, the temperature cooled to mid 80s and the water cleared.  By the time I made it over to the area near the Menehune Breakwater, I was really happy.   Cool, clear water and my camera retrieved from the newly opened safe.  God bless the Tobiases, God bless the people at First Alert. And God bless voluptuous lady meteorologists in tight skirts.

     My spirit of Thanksgiving was rewarded with a couple fine immatures.   Yes, Matilda,

Big Bad Blue Goatfish

summer is the season for baby fish as well as baby Tobiases.  First to make an appearance was a fine little dascyllus with a bright blue forehead.  For the first time in three months I was standing on my head in five feet of moving water trying to photograph a tiny fish.  What bliss!  The resulting picture is a little blurry, which I attribute to my lack of recent experience.  Its much easier to take pictures of willing subjects at a wedding than tiny, skittish dascylli.

    As I called it quits with the dascyllus,  a large blue goatfish, in the company of a small ulua,   came along searching for invertebrates.  And a pair of Raccoon Butterflies made an irresistible subject in the clear water. One is tempted to make reference to a well worn sexual metaphor...in this case it really was wet and bordered, to some mild extent, on the surrealistic. 

     Out further on the reef, in the vicinity of Surfer's Rock, I ran across a bluestripe baby of the Hawaiian Cleaner Wrasse.  The fish was smaller and the water even more kinetic, so 

Hawaiian Cleaner Wrasse imm., Kahalu'u August 2015

I had a barrel of fun attempting a photo of this fellow.  I hope you will agree that I was progressing up the learning curve.  This guy was no less evasive than the dascyllus and every bit as small.

   On the way toward the smaller shelter I ran into a pretty big example of the baby Rockmover.   This Dragon Wrasse was of the greenish persuasion and would have made a wonderful subject.  But, being a spoilsport, the moment he realized I had an interest in his portrait, he dodged under a rock and refused to come out.

    As I swam away from the green dragon wrasse with out a picture, I didn't regard it as much of a tragedy.    In preparing the blog, however, I have discovered (or not!) that I do not have a picture of a green dragon wrasse.  Certainly this is not the first green one I have seen, but judging by my collection of photographs, the brown morph must be far more common.  Or less elusive.  Or more photogenic.

     Anyway, I swam away in ignorant bliss, dwelling on Kevin Kline's advice to Michael Palin as he devoured the fish in Ken's aquarium in "A Fish Called Wanda...."Don't eat the green ones.  They're not ripe yet."   And people wonder why I enjoy snorkeling!

Don't eat the  green ones.  They're not ripe yet.

     But the best was yet to come.  As I was a crawling out on the sand like some geriatric sea monster, a lad of about seven or eight, already wearing a mask, was putting on his fins.  It took him a little while, but he got on each fin with out sitting down.  I gave him a thumbs up and asked him if he kept track of his fish.  He grinned and said, "Sometimes."  In that instant, I knew that the future was in good hands and bid him to look for the Dragon Wrasse.   "It looks like a ragged piece of kelp."  I added.  Yeah, that's the ticket.  Ragged kelp.

    If one had given me a choice, I would have said Kilo was a measure of weight, not a name to be applied to a tropical cyclone.  Over dinner and a glass of merlot, I made a few disparaging remarks about the

Raggedy Kelp.  That's the ticket!

impotence of this poorly named zephyr.  And all was well until the witching hour, when Donner and Blitzen suddenly put in an appearance.  For the next two hours, we experienced a remarkable electrical storm.  We were exposed to thunder strong enough to shake the house at least 25 times in that period.  Isn't it interesting that all that energy sucked from the warm ocean can be spent this way, in addition to the strong winds that we fear most with a hurricane?

    As some of you know, Sandra and I recently returned from Portland where our daughter Leslie was married.  Our extended stay afforded the opportunity to spend some quality time with our first grandchild, who is now a three year old Golden / Irish Setter Designer Dog named Riley.  One afternoon when we were puppy sitting, there came a single burst of lightening and a distant peal of thunder.  Riley was so agitated by this meteorological display that he damn near knocked Sandra onto her delicate derriere.  After about fifteen minutes of

Riley gets a little comfort from his mother.  Mind the bump.

comforting, he was able to get up and walkabout the mansion with a sheepish look on his face.   As sweetie and I cowered in bed at 1 AM after an especially vicious blast of thunder,  I whispered, "Boy am I glad Riley isn't here."

    But Kilo is passing and our roof is still where it belongs and Sandra and I really do wish that all of you were here, if only so you could share in our next bout of extreme weather.  Or maybe you could send over Jennifer Robbins.

jeff

Back in Good Ol' Kailua

     Sandra and I arrived back from Portland a couple days ago.   The first couple days were taken up with gardening (We felled and delivered to the yard debris a twenty foot papaya, not to mention a trunk full of

Delicious Menpachi, City of Refuge 2012

overgrown lilikoi.)  Our second night back it rained torrentially; there were flash floods all over the state, but here in Kona the water just percolated through the lava.

    So yesterday it was time to go snorkeling.  With that in mind, I repaired to the ohana where we had stashed our sundry equipment in deference to our house exchangers.  I brought up our masks, fins, swimshirts and caps.  Then I went to the safe to retrieve the cameras.  I had never put the cameras in the safe before, but they are sort of expensive, and there was plenty of room, so I thought, "Why not?"

    The answer to that rhetorical question became apparent over the next few minutes.  The safe wouldn't open.  This afforded me the opportunity to talk to several First Alert technicians back in Illinois.  It turns out

that those little lights, and  more importantly the locking mechanism, relies on electricity supplied by a battery that one is obligated to replace at an appropriate interval.  Apparently when we purchased the safe a move or two ago, we were supplied with an override key, which is long gone. And how was I supposed to know about replacing the battery?  

     This is a round about way of telling you that there will be no original underwater photography until the override key arrives from Chicago. At least the cameras were safe from the nefarious DeLukes, our house exchangers, who are more honest that Milburn Drysdale.  To paraphrase Jed Clampett's banker, "If you
can't trust Gail and Martin DeLuke, who can you trust?"  As the blog progresses, you will hear more about our new best friends the DeLukes.   

If you can't trust the DeLukes...

    At this point I invite you to join me at the Kailua pier.  It was hot, humid and relatively deserted.  As I entered the water, a plump family of tourists were attempting to do the same.  Our eyes were collectively drawn to a dead Epaulet Soldierfish, swishing back and forth in the shallows.  The alpha male was proffering an identification, which I politely corrected (I'm always polite.)  I went on to say that the Japanese fisherman call them menpachi and they are reputed to be delicious.  But I wouldn't eat that one.

     The water was really warm and moderately cloudy, so unless we saw something really unusual, there would have been no reason to take pictures.   It being so warm, I swam for about an hour, enjoying being back in the ocean, but not seeing anything of note.  Towards the end of my swim, I ventured under the swim rope.  The Body Glove was getting ready to depart, but I felt safe as there was a trio of youths taking turns in a shopping cart. 

Let's Go Surfing!

    One of the young gentlemen would get in the cart and the other two would roll him off the pier into the water; as long as I kept the shoppers between me and the boat, I reasoned, I would be safe.

     Near the pier I saw a pair of Blacktail Snappers.  This handsome (albeit introduced) species seems to be increasing in numbers.  And over the small reef I saw a fairly large number of menpachi.  Last but not least, there was a curious wormfish that seemed to be displaying to a wiggly white lure hooked on the coral.  If you are as warped as me, you might consider this the fishy equivalent of an inflatable sex doll.  Talk about curious!

    At the showers there were a couple well tatooed gentlemen enjoying a cool ablution.  One was telling the other that his tongue had gotten ripped up the other night when his tongue piercing technician experienced an epileptic seizure right in mid-pierce.  And I thought that it was bad to be locked out of my safe!

jeff

The beautiful Blacktail Sanpper is becoming more common in Kona

    

An Adventure in Aloha Land

   It was one of those steely gray mornings that have become de rigguer here on the leeward side of the Big Island.  Madame Pele casting her sooty veil north from her home at Kilauea doesn't affect our plans and we

Gilded Triggerfish Ho'okena  May 2015

were heading south to one of our favorite snorkeling beaches.   The sad truth is, it requires a little bit of motivation to get us going.  Luckily, we had a guest that was interested in a trip to Ho'okena, our favorite beach, where the big fish play and a different breed roams the shoreline.   

    We got down to Ho'okena a little after ten.  It was two days after a major holiday and at this early hour we had the parking area, the tables and the beach pretty much to ourselves.  After changing, the three of us wandered down the beach.  At the end (where there are fewer shoreline rocks)  the wave faces were only about a foot, so we were able to get in with our gear without any problem.  Back in Kailua, the persistent moderate swell had produced some cloudy water.  Here the water was strikingly clear.

    Always hoping for another flame angelfish, we watched the coral heads carefully as we swam out.   

Gilded Triggerfish  Ho'okena  2015

 Sadly, they yielded nothing special.  Out in front of the old landing, we introduced Andy to the thrill of approaching the old concrete pillars as the water swished between them. There were needlefish hanging about and a single reticulated butterfly swam close by.

     Heading back, we still couldn't find anything special in the coral heads so we wandered over the sand looking for garden eels.  Andy had hired a couple of bad guides...we couldn't find the garden eels, either.    As we got closer to the beach, Sandra decided that she was going to head in.  It wasn't that cold, so it may have been that she was bored.  How sad it is when the reef reeks of ennui.

    Andy and I split up.  Immediately I saw a big Bridled Triggerfish.  I called to Andy who got over pretty quick, which was a good thing as those guys are shy.  And fast on the get away.  We both got a

Devil Scorpionfish  Mahukona 2015

 look at this light brown morph, a very rare sighting for me.  It is interesting that ten years ago this was the fish pictured in both Randall's and Hoover's books.  Then John Hoover switched and the very dark bridled triggerfish with the white caudal peduncle is the one you will find in his new book.  Jack Randall And the one that we usually see at Ho'okena.

       After humoring me by looking at the fleeing bridled triggerfish, Andy announced that when I called him, he was looking at a frogfish.  Well, I guess he knew how to get my attention.  We swam back over to the area where he had seen it.  After looking around a bit I asked him if it was yellow.  No, he said, it was the color of the rocks  on the bottom.  In fact, he wouldn't have noticed the fish if another fish had not annoyed it, making it move and, in the process, display the red and yellow on its pectoral fins.  Personally I was pleased that Andy had spotted, on his own, a Devil Scorpionfish.  I have seen my share of the Devil Scorpionfish, the last was at Mahukona just two months ago.  I certainly would have enjoyed seeing another.  On the other hand,  I don't know how long I would

Devil Scorpionfish hawaii.botany.edu

 have looked for the frogfish...we might still be there.

     Just in case you are unfamiliar with the pecoral fins of the Devil Scorpionfish, I'm including a picture from the internet.  I have yet to capture those flashy pectorals on film, as it were.

     Turning for the barn, I noticed a gilded triggerfish swimming below us, into progressively shallow water.  Soon it was only twenty feet deep and it was mildly cooperative when I dove for some pictures.  That is what you get to look at today.  

    Back on shore, we got cleaned up and spread out our lunch: some sandwiches that Sandra had thrown together along with some cheese and crackers.  As we were devouring this feast, we were joined by a young man.  He sort of sauntered up, checking us out from beneath a broad green headband that sort of matched

Auntie Sandra and the Two Bears

 his trunks.  Cradling a can of Bud Light , he leaned against the post of the shelter, watching us eat.  I asked if he would like to join us and he said something unintelligible and took a seat.  The sandwiches were pretty much gone, so I fixed him a plate of cheese and crackers garnished with bits of mango. As he ate, he made gestures of appreciation, noting that not only was it yummy (rubbing the tummy) but that this would make him big and strong (overhead flexing of biceps).  He also let us know that there were lots of mangoes to be found up the hill somewhere.  Perusing the table, he nabbed a leftover leaf of romaine and a wayward tube of mayo.  Big and strong.


     As he finished, he let us know that the person he had come with was out fishing, catching the big one if his pantomime of fighting a fish with rod and reel was any indication.  He was overjoyed to give a couple hugs and pose for a photo.  I'm not sure about my companions, but I was totally in Aloha-land.  And I hope I'm able to get back there again soon.

jeff

   

Back in the Saddle

 For those few of you who follow this blog, you have perhaps detected a hiatus of a month or so.  In part, this is because Sandra and I went to Mexico for ten days.  More importantly, while we were in Guadalajara

The Author with Chupaflores.  Universidad de Guadalajara

 we got sick.  Now when you tell someone that you went to Mexico and you got sick, they naturally think of Montezuma's Revenge.  In our case, though, it had nothing to do with drinking contaminated water or eating a lukewarm enchilada at Casa Dispeptico.  Most likely we were poisoned by breathing the air provided by American Airlines.

    On the third day in GDL (like Portland, Oregon the Tapatios identify their city by their airport code) I had a sore throat and malaise.  By day five, I was a wreck.  Imagine verifying the destination of a bus with the driver. You are using a language with which you have mediocre skill and unfortunately you sound like Donald Duck.  Except when your voice fails entirely.   This is not a pretty picture but we soldiered on, seeing the churches and museums and taking lots of naps.

   Sandra became ill about three days after I did.  Both of us remained a little sick with this thing until a few days ago.  Talking with friends around the country, it sounds like lots of people have had colds lasting two

The Club Regatta Features Koa Canoes

 and three months, so I guess we should feel fortunate that this cold only lasted four weeks.  This was lucky for all involved, as my nephew Andrew arrived from the Bay Area two days ago, just as I became symptom-free.

   An hour or so after Andy landed, we were down at Snorkel Bob's,  outfitting him with a snorkel, fins and a prescription mask.  This ran to $44.95 for a week.  I live a life of ongoing sticker shock, but even so, this seemed a little high.  This morning I checked out my suspicions with Big Island Divers.  They run a nice shop where we buy gear every now and then.  This week they will sell you a prescription mask, two models and multiple colors to choose from, for only 90 clams.  As there are a variety of snorkels and fins floating around

Casa Ono, it makes this prescription mask seem like a pretty good deal.  Unless, of course, you really want to sit on the bench at Snorkel Bob's while the pretty young lady fits the family from South Dakota with everything from wet suits to souvenir T shirts. 

She was  cute, but not that cute.

    Eventually we were on our way down Alii Drive towards the pier.  As we passed Bubba Gump's, I noticed that a regatta was taking place, replete with koa canoes.   We opted to park at the library and enjoyed the walk through the village.  Paddlers from the regatta were everywhere, mingling with the Memorial Day weekend crowd. 

    Soon enough we were in the water.  It was a pleasant 78 degrees according to the thermometer I  keep hidden behind my hypothalamus.  There had been a bit of a swell and the water had the clarity of diluted milk, but I hadn't been swimming in a month and it felt great.  We were able to see a few fish and enjoyed the ambiance of the regatta.  Every ten minutes the canoes would paddle by and the supporters on

A Choir of Spinners Greets Andrew

 the pier would cheer them on.  How festive!

 Yesterday, Sandra rallied and the entire clan made it back to the pier.  We had decided to go to Paul Allen's Reef, as the surf predictor was forecasting 3 to 4 foot swells.  It was immediately apparent that the swell was not nearly that high, but even from the beach in front of the King Kam hotel we could see an inordinate number of small boats and paddle boards out past the pier.  When we reconnoitered out past the heiau breakwater, we talked about the numerous boats, the message being stay away from them.

     We swam across the small bay enjoying the warmer water, which was substantially clearer than the water by the pier the day before.  We were swimming opposite the entrance to Paul's lagoon, about twenty yards from the shore, when Andrew suddenly exclaimed, "Uncle Jeff!"  I turned to see four or five dolphins, about six feet away, leaping clear of the water.   Looking around we could see the rest of the pod porpoising past us.  So that was what all those boats and paddle boards were about.   It is a sad testimony

Jackson's Chameleon, Andrew Hill I-phone 4

 to the amount of time we have been away from the water that we had not identified the signs of a concerted dolphin-stalking flotilla.

     The pod, as a whole, seemed very healthy.  They were swimming fast, chattering among themselves and bore no signs of sucker shark predation.  We enjoyed a few close passes.  Once a tight group raced right under us, perhaps only three feet below.  It was truly exciting.

      Fairly soon the action ceased, the flotilla dispersed and we made our way through the cold inner harbour and home for lunch.

    We had decided that that afternoon we would take Andy to Greenwell Coffee Farms.  Since his last visit, we had identified Greenwell's as the place to look for Jackson's chameleons.  As we arrived, we saw a

My first chameleon...more to follow!

young man tugging on a branch of the orange tree where one is most likely to see chameleons.  Sure enough, there was a fine three horned male only a eight feet up.  We took turns taking pictures of this studly lizard.  The picture you see here was taken with Andy's I-phone 4 which caught the best image.  If only I knew how convert  those bmp files without losing 90% of the information, I would probably never use my camera (out of the water) again.  After we enjoyed our coffee samples, Andy went on a coffee tour, Sandra took pictures of her Teddy Bear (her new hobby) with various Greenwell props.  And I continued my chameleon hunting.  I found the male again and then I found a large fat female about twelve feet up.  She was brown with green spots, her tail curled around the branch.  I was so proud.  I had never found a Jackson's chameleon on my own before.  Having broken the jinx, I'm hopeful that it is only a matter of time before I spot one of these fascinating animals up here at Casa Ono.  Wish me luck!

jeff

Andrew Waves Aloha From Paul Allen's Reef.

Teddy and Greenwell's Coffee!