What About Bob? A select few butterfly photos courtesy of Bob Hillis

   

Arizona Sister, Utah August 2022

     Over many years of watching animals, I have been lucky enough to be associated with three superb field biologists,  which might in two of the cases be revised to animal finders.  These guys are able to see a bird or a fish where the average mortal sees only a bush or a rock. Mike Van Ronzelen has for a few years now been watching birds in the St. Peter's Cloud Forest.  I trust he is seeing some worthy birds on a daily basis.  Peter is, of course, still around and you can see his pictures and enjoy his ramblings on his blog, one breath kohala.  Of the three, Peter is the true field biologist.  Extensively trained, he brings a different aspect to the sport of listing animals, be they bird, fish or insect.

    Having named two, that brings me to my friend Bob Hillis. When he lived in Kona, Bob and I watched many a fine fish together.  And as above, he pointed out a few fish that I wouldn't have seen on my own, sometimes in situations that I would not have ventured into on my own. 

    Lucky for us, Bob is still around, and, I believe, mostly retired, but still getting out and seeing some really good stuff.  Perhaps I had a little influence on both Peter and Bob, for they started watching butterflies as Sandra and I got interested in them.  

 

Arizona Sister in resting position photos Bob Hillis

    At one point Bob started to write a blog, but it was more on philosophical lines, as opposed to highlighting the animals that he was seeing.  Lucky for me, he has continued to send me pictures of the animals he has photographed, mostly in Utah, where he now lives, and Southern California, where he lived and worked for many years as a State Parks ranger.  And where he still has some nature loving friends.  

    Last week he sent me yet another excellent picture of a butterfly that I will probably never see and,  I thought, many of you who read my blog have heard Bob mentioned from time to time, why wouldn't you want to look at a few of these pictures.  With that in mind, I have gone through my cell phone and extracted some of the better pictures.  And with Bob's permission I'm presenting them to you here along with a small bit of explanation. 

     The first is an Arizona Sister.  For those of us who live on the West Coast, the related species is California Sister, which I have yet to see.  My feeling is that Bob hasn't seen one either.  The California Sister lives in canyons populated with live oaks, although its preferred host plant is Golden Chinkapin.  Being a poor botanist, which is a sad state for a butterfly watcher, I wouldn't be able to tell a Golden Chinkapin from a golden retriever.  Supposedly the sister can be seen in the arboretum on Mt Pisgah in Eugene, which is the northern limit of its range.   It becomes more common as you head south towards California.  What a surprise!  

    Last summer Bob met up with a friend in Bellingham, Wa.  They went to Larabee State Park where he took this picture of starfish on the beach.  This was of interest to me, because starfish have been virtually exterminated in Puget Sound.   Sandra and I have a favorite little beach in Anacortes where, three  years ago we stumbled upon  a handsome statue that serves as a memorial to the starfish.  Up to that point,  I was oblivious to this catastrophe.

      There has been some debate about just how Homo sapiens accomplished this unfortunate feat.  Puget Sound now has a pH south of 7.0 which, one would suspect, may have something to do with it.  As a depressing aside, the lowered pH prevents oysters from breeding in places which have given a variety of oysters their name.   Anyway, Bob found this photogenic horde of echinoderms literally less than fifty miles from that memorial.  That should cheer us up!

    He and his friend went snorkeling at Larabee and he caught this handsome nudibranch at 30 feet.  While I am a big fan of snorkeling, I draw the line at snorkeling in 63 degree water which was what he recorded.  What can I say, I'm a wuss.

 

Sonoran Blue Butterfly, Bob Hillis

The photo that set me off on this tribute was this one of a Sonoran Blue Butterfly.  This was taken in Anza Borrego State Park in the mountains east of San Diego two weeks ago.  Suffice it to say, Butterfly Season is much longer in So Cal than in northern Oregon. 

   On the same day, Bob saw West Coast Lady, one of three species of "ladies" on the west coast.  It is also found n Oregon and our friend Caitlin advises us to keep an eye out for it.

     Like any other butterfly watcher in the western United States, Bob sees lots of fritillary butterflies.  In part, he does this with the misguided idea that I can help him identify them.  There are about a dozen species of medium sized frits in Oregon.  They come in a variety of oranges and all have a very similar complex maze of black markings on their dorsal wing surfaces and a complex pattern of paisleys on their hind ventral wings.  Getting a good look at that surface is often the key to nailing down the identification.

Speyeria mormonia, Utah, Bob Hillis

   The problem is, there is so much local variation that in many instances, even experts like our friend Caitlin LaBar, are unwilling to identify these insects outside the range they are familiar with.  This is quite a bit different from bird watching.  If one sees an acorn woodpecker in Oregon it will be virtually identical to one seen elsewhere in its range.

   All of this leads to an amusing story.  Around the time Bob went to Bellingham he sent me two butterfly pictures.  The first one you see is a Mormon Frit nectaring on an aster.  This is a butterfly with a wide range and is very similar throughout.  It is smaller than many other Speyeria frits and it has those distinctive rounded wings.   So in a way we can think of it like the aforementioned acorn woodpecker.

    At the same time, he sent me the picture that you see below.  And as part of that text, he mentioned that he saw this butterfly near his yard (in St. George, Utah).  And he even named it, Western Pygmy Blue. 

  But sometimes I don't pay attention.  The Redoubtable SKG will be happy to verify this observation.  In that vein, I thought he was identifying it as an Acmon Blue seen on Mt. Baker, the snow capped volcano that towers above Bellingham.  I was sure, even as a tyro lepidopterist, that this was not the case.  And so I presented both photos to Caitlin telling her that I thought they were taken on Mt. Baker and asking her what the blue was.  And this is what she replied:

Western Pygmy Blue  St. George, Utah  Bob Hillis

Hi Jeff, 

  Yes, the frit is a female momonia.    

   The mating pair of blues are Western Pygmy Blues, which I highly doubt were taken at Mt. Baker, maybe the locations got mixed up? They are very common in Utah, and were common in SE WA in 2022, but hardly seen in 2023, and have never been found north of the Tri Cities area.

     In this way Caitlin reaffirmed her virtuosity by avoiding all my sand-bagging misinformation.  What a girl! 

    Living a life of faux pas can make things just a little more interesting.

    Last year Bob sent me a couple pictures of larger butterflies.  One was of the curiously named Southern Dogface.  This is a widely distributed butterfly, from New England to California, south to Mexico and the Caribbean.  It is so named because the person who had the honor of giving the insect its common name thought the spot on the wing reminded him of his pet poodle.  Says so on the internet, so it must be true.  Right?   

Southern Dogface Butterfly Utah   Bob Hillis

    The Southern Dogface has been the California State insect since 1929.   I suspect that there is some variation in wing pattern in California, as there are articles on the internet calling it the California Southern Dogface.  So this picture was probably taken in Utah.  

   I could ask Caitlin for verification, but I fear I may be in her doghouse.

   Look carefully and you will see that Bob has captured the proboscis of this nectaring butterfly.  And how about those eyes?  Creepy!

  I am a sucker for checkerspots.  Sandra and I  saw our first one, the Snowberry Checkerspot, near Dougan Falls and attempted to identify it on our own.  Sandra posted it on the northwest butterfly website and all the little old ladies got their undies in a twitter correcting our mis-identification.  Since then, Sandra and I have seen two more species, which you will recall if you are a faithful blog reader.  

Anicia Checkerspot, Cedar Breaks National Monument  BH

    Many checkerspots are not widely distributed and Bob sent us a picture of a beauty that I have yet to see in the PNW.  As I don't have any books here in Hawaii, I am stuck using the internet, which is a terrible way to identify almost anything, especially butterflies.  So Caitlin helped us out once again and said:

That’s an Anicia Checkerspot, they look much more red and yellow the further south and east you go, compared to what you’re used to in the northwest  

    So now Bob can put it down definitively on his list.  We'll keep it as a surprise until he reads it, just like you, in the blog 

    Spring is creeping in, so get out your cameras and nets and see some butterflies,

jeff

Kahalu'u on Pi Day, Houndfish and the Association and the Kieki Museum Expands to Waikoloa

    There has been a hiatus in blogs for which I apologize.  The weather has been cool, making a dip in the ocean unnecessary from the standpoint of personal comfort, but that's no excuse. If there is an excuse, it has to to do with the Keiki Museum.  

Jyness documents the butterfly installation    photo SKG

    Yesterday, March 14th, Pi Day to those interested in circular geometry, welcomed the opening of a second museum.  The museum in Kailua, where my complete set of reef fish swim happily above the rampaging toddlers, may not be making it from a financial point of view.  Looking for a more solvent location, the ladies in charge have leased a location in the Queen's Shops at Waikoloa.  It was always their hope to attract visiting children of means and this sprawling resort is rife with them. 

    Several large luxury hotels, a dozen condos and a golf course now exist near the waters of Anaeho'omalu Bay.  Back in 1980, when I first came to Kona, there was a single small Sheraton and virtually no shops.  Now one has to search to find the bay and the lodging and shops border on the overwhelming.  Luckily for the keikis and those of us who pander to them, Macy's at the Queen's Shops has ceased to exist and my patrons at the museum have snatched up the lease.  

A Snidely Freckled Hawkfish Trumpets the Legacy

    My occupational therapy coordinator, the lady with the heart of gold, the one and only Jyness Jones, has given me two windows facing the courtyard in this luxury mall.  Ever since I started doing art, I have salivated like one of Dr. Pavlov's canines at the thought of decorating one of those windows.  And now I have two!  Additionally, the butterfly exhibit from the Kailua library has found a permanent home in a display case that once displayed fancy merchandise.  The legacy is alive.

   So the last month has been taken up with making larger fish and butterflies, some of which turned out rather well.  And the last two weeks have seen Sandra and I trekking to Waikoloa to install our art in the windows.  Jyness has held back control, promising to fill out the displays around our paper mache animals.  So here we are showing you a couple pictures of what must be considered a work in progress.  

A Houndfish in Clear Kahalu'u Water  March 2024

    At the last minute, my beloved convinced me to place an "About the Artist " placard in the fish window.  We'll see if it survives.  Maybe I'll be famous for more than a day.

 

 

 

 

   

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    As there was a fantasy baseball draft yesterday afternoon, we could not go to the museum for its gala opening.  Instead, we spent a blissful hour in the welcoming waters of Kahalu'u Bay.  My poor sweetie's jaw is still giving her problems, so she dropped me off for snorkeling and went to the Keahou shops for fish and make up.  (The mascara tasted great and the marlin looks great on her, one filet on each cheek.)

    The water was not too cold and in some spots fairly clear.  One would always want more fish, especially in these days when the coral is on the decline, but I did see a couple things that might titillate your ichthyological fancy.

Pearl Wrasse male,  March 2023

    Early on I didn't see much.  But when I turned up the middle I found a pair of Crocodile Needlefish, sometimes referred to as houndfish.  This twosome was cooperative and permitted three photos before swimming away.  These guys were only mediums, probably under two feet in length.  Rarely have I encountered really big houndfish and they are an intimidating beast.

     Over by the rescue shelter I spotted a male Pearl Wrasse who got away before I could capture a good photo, (I'm including a really good picture of one taken in the same spot exactly one year ago)  At the end of the chase I found myself in a bit of fishy activity and nabbed this video of a hunting Whitemouth Moray Eel.

Female and male wrasse trail the Ember Parrot

    I had ten minutes before my hour was up and I swam over to the near edge of the bay.  Here I was in front of the bar at what was once the hotel.  The Keahou Beach Hotel has been gone for ten years and whoever is in charge of the project has removed everything, including David Kalakaua's beach house, but they left standing the building that was once the bay front watering hole.  Go figure.

   Regardless of the structures remaining on land, here by the lava reef I encountered a juvenile cleaner wrasse.  I took her picture and she was immediately in the company of a female Ember Parrotfish accompanied by a big adult cleaner wrasse.  At least at Kahalu'u we see this association with some regularity.  Its hard to know who is getting what in the way of an advantage.  the best I can tell, the parrotfish gets nothing.  Perhaps the Christmas Wrasse, who eats mostly invertebrates like brittle stars and crabs, uses the parrot like a stalking horse.

     Usually this mis-matched pair is fast moving and one doesn't have the opportunity to to get a picture close up.  In this case though, they stayed close enough for me to get a couple good pictures and the video you see here.  Its interesting to watch the wrasse zipping over the reef, darting down to attempt a capture. 

    Back ashore we met Sandra with her purchases and bid sayanora to Yasuko.  We have one more month in Hawaii before we return to the lad of lepidoptery.  We'll try to find something interesting soon.

jeff

 

Pine Trees...Camping With Stilts

    Pine Trees is well known to those of us who live in Kailua Kona, if only by name.  Since time immemorial it has been one of the renowned surf breaks here in the land of King Kamehameha.  While Pine Trees is a little out of town, the other two, Kona Bali Kai and Lyman's are one mile straight down the hill from Casa Ono.  In fact, one of the criteria we use when deciding if it is a good day for snorkeling is to look down on the latter from our lanai.; if there are a bunch of surfers at Lyman's, maybe it isn't such a hot day for snorkeling.   

   But what about Pine Trees?  Pine Trees is north of town.  Turn left on Hulikoa, one light past Hina Lani, where one might look for Costco.  If you turn right on Hulikoa you can head for the Pine Trees Cafe.  Like forever, one turned left and headed for Pine Trees. 

Kohanaiki Beach, aka Pine Trees

    As I don't surf, there was little reason in the past for me to risk the undeveloped road that led to the surfing beach.  (For those unfamiliar with surfing on the Big Island, a surfing beach is not a sandy beach.  At best it is rough gravel, but it might be boulders .  What's important is the surf break.)  So I remained  blissfully ignorant of the change that had taken place in access until my new Occupational Therapy Director, Jyness Jones, reported that about a month ago  she had gone camping there with her family.  A little internet investigation revealed that things had changed dramatically. One now drives about a mile on a paved road to a park that extends along the beach for at least half a mile.  

     After about a mile, one has a choice.  A left turn would take you to an exclusive new resort named the Kohanaiki Private Club Community.   There is a gate house with a nice man who probably has an arsenal  under his desk and no intention whatsoever of letting you in to look around.  

Hawaiian Stilt, Kohanaiki Beach, photo Chuck Hill

  The average Kimo is encouraged to drive ahead on a new road with multiple speed bumps and marked Kohanaiki Beach Park.  This is much different from years ago.  Before the resort community arrived, there was a post and wire gate and a sandy road that wound down about half a mile to the surfing beach known as Pine Trees.

     A decade ago, the development company was hoping to extend the private club community to the shore.  One saw signs around town to "Save Pine Trees!"  The state stepped in and acquired the beach for 6.7 mil, the negotiations that led to this transfer are not readily available.  Starting in 2014 the state began work on this modern facility.   

   If one is knowledgeable, one can find an unimproved sandy road to the north near the park entrance leading to O'oma Beach.  This is also now owned by the state and may, in fact, be the original Pine Trees surfing beach.  Camping here may be unregulated.

     We went exploring during a recent visit from my son.   We didn't see any inviting sandy beaches and no numbered camping sites.   In fact, camping is on a first come, first serve basis and you select the spot in which you intend to camp.  apparently any old spot is permitted.  You can acquire a reservation to camp on the internet for a nominal fee.  Then print your receipt and present it to the attendant at the gate. 

Its da stilt. photo Chuck Hill

    Once we were in the park, we saw several signs admonishing us not to bother the Rare Hawaiian Black Neck Stilt.  It is my impression that this is the same species that occurs in the lower 48 and that it is not especially rare in Hawaii. We parked at the very end of the road,  and after walking on the rocky beach, we crossed inland where there is an open kiosk and a large pond.  There we found a pair of stilts and one loner.  My son Charles took the pictures you see with his cell phone.  

    If one has the urge to camp at the beach, albeit one where you might not swim on a sandy beach, you should check out Pine Trees.  And if you need a look at the stilts to get them on your bird list, you could hardly ask for an easier opportunity.

jeff

A Mahukona Update

 As you know, I have long regarded Mahukona as one of the best spots on the Kona coast to watch fish.  The entry is reliable, the water clear and it has been home to some species seldom seen elsewhere.

Gone are  the days when the  Blacklip was found at Mahukona

    A few days ago I snorkeled there for an hour with our friend Peter.  Both Sandra and Marla are currently hors de combat, vids a vis snorkeling,  so it was just us guys in the sea.

    The water was clear and not as cold as I feared, but almost immediately I began wondering, "Where are the fish?"  Not seeing much in the small bay, where in the past we have seen blacklip butterfly, we swam out to the reef on the north cusp.  Luckily the surf was mild and we were able to peruse the mostly bare lava.  There we saw many five striped wrasse in all their glorious stages of development, along with a number of juvenile Christmas Wrasse.

   Over the ridge, in the next bay to the north, Peter saw three Scribbled Filefish and a male Spectacled Parrot.  Apparently I am what the French call les incompetent, for even with his guidance I came up empty on this account.

    Swimming back across mouth of the bay, we saw Chocolate Dip and Oval Chromis.  The chocolates

Heller's Barracuda were not to be found.

were deeper than 15 feet, precluding photography of this handsome species by yours truly.  And, let's face it, Oval Chromis is a species only a fishwatcher can love.  A photo of an oval might induce the casual observer to say, "Yeah, its a fish.  So what?"  But I enjoyed them, anyway.  

    The rest of the circuit yielded little.  No Blue Stripe Butterfly (which should have been a sure thing) and no Heller's Barracuda.  Peter assures us that Yellowtail Filefish is still there, but none were seen on this day.

   Up the ladder and ashore, we enjoyed a look at a whale just outside the bay.  I thought he was less than a hundred yards from where we stood on the edge of the pier... clearly in an area where we have swam in the past.  And we wondered, what would it be like to swim close to one of those behemoths?  Awesome?  Frightening? 

We'll see the bluestripe next time!

   Right below our feet on the rocks I got a good look at a Painted Lady Butterfly.  This was just my second sighting of this species in Hawaii, with the distinctive wing spots, and the relatively few number of possibilities, this was an easy identification.   And I'm afraid that this was at least as exciting as anything I saw in the water. 

    Peter thought the fish we saw constituted a pretty good outing and I still think that Mahukona is an excellent spot.  So we'll be back and see something good the next time.

jeff

    

An Unusual Outing on the Ironman Side

    The day after the Superbowl, while Taylor Swift was (presumably) experiencing the best part of a tight end, the Kona Coast was blessed with a break in the relentless winter swell.  Making the most of this opportunity, I had Sandra drop me off at the pier while she went shopping for dungarees.  While there were a gazillion people on their collective way out of  Lost Wages, the tourists here in the land of swaying coco palms weren't going anywhere, except to the beach, of course. 

Female Pearl Wrasse sans Coral, Kailua Pier, February 2024

    And so I joined the swimming set at the cubbies, hard by the foot of the pier.  While I was donning my swimming attire, a few of the recreational swimmers, having recently emerged from Kailua Bay, were remarking on how warm the water was, compared with a day or two in the immediate past.  Having frozen my you know what off the last few times I went swimming, this conversation was of more than passing interest.  As I finished defogging my mask a comely maiden, having just completed her swim, engaged me on the way to her shower. I asked her if the water was really warm.  she smiled and said, "Not at all!"  As I walked away she called out, "Good luck keeping warm."

    In fact, the water wasn't freezing and it was as clear as any I have experienced at the pier this winter.  Sadly, this gave me the opportunity to get a really good look at the coral, or the lack there of.  The bay was not swarming with fish, but at the second swim buoy I enjoyed a nice female Pearl Wrasse.  You see her picture here, swimming in an area that should have been carpeted with coral.  Instead we see long dead coral covered with a fine dusting of sand, courtesy of the relentless swell which has lasted almost non-stop for six weeks.

Red Phorbas Sponge, Kailua Kona, 2024

    As I swam out, I saw lots of dead coral and more than a few clumps of red encrusting sponge, probably red phorbas (sponge experts warn us against identifying sponges unless we take them home, denude them with chemicals and examine the skeleton).  Regardless, these sponges are apparently not susceptible to the ravages of climate change. In fact, they are thriving in the new conditions.  

    As I passed the penultimate swim buoy I saw a large undulated moray swim into a clump of Evermann's Coral.  I had the camera in hand, but he was too fast for me.  I waited for a minute or two, hoping that this fine specimen would emerge and resume hunting, all to no avail.  I briefly considered diving down for a closer look but discretion reminded me that of all the eels, this is the one that bites.   And so he was left to his own devices.

Oval Butterfly, Kailua Bay, 2024

     I swam as far as the palace, above which the sun was rising in a blinding display.  There were a few fish out there, but not too many and nothing remarkable.  

    On the way in I enjoyed a pair of Oval Butterflyfish.  John Hoover tells us that we should find them amid lush coral growth, feeding on polyps of living coral.  Sadly, this makes me wonder how much longer we will see this species in Kailua Kona.  This pair looked healthy and I watched as one attempted a nibble at a remaining coral.  

   This is one of the species that has a doppelganger in the Western Pacific.  In Bali we see this fish with a remarkable red anal fin, hence it is known as the Redfin Butterfly.  I suppose that this species , like its Hawaiian cousin, eats coral polyps and is similarly endangered.

    As we approached the pier, I encountered a meleagris Spotted Puffer.  He was only a few feet away and finning pleasantly, So I took a little movie for your enjoyment.  

    I dove under the floating line and examined the reef near the pier, with the Body Glove twenty yards away, apparently preparing for its late morning excursion.  As I returned to the swimming area, things took a turn towards the surreal.  Right below me was a five dollar bill.  I dove down four feet and nabbed it.  Interestingly, the US Treasury creates bills that seem to take little harm from immersion in seawater.  I had only retrieved one bill before, many years ago near the entrance to Paul Allen's Lagoon, back when Paul was still alive.    In those days he made the journey from the Octopus by helicopter, so the money must have come form one of his guests.  Perhaps he was preparing to tip the boat handler.  Who knows.

Outrunnng the law with Baby Face Nelson

    Anyway, clutching the bill I started heading for shore.  And then I saw another.  And it was a twenty!  As I circled the area, which was only fifteen yards from the sandy entry, I was reminded of Delmar telling Baby Face Nelson that his folding money and come unstowed.  Happily,  this discovery was repeated a few more times and I stowed the proceeds in my swimsuit pocket, safely secured by the velcro fastener.  Heaven only knows, I didn't want to repeat Babyface's mistake.    

   I may have collected all the folding money when I saw a round shape in a sandy spot next to a rock.  Figuring it was a coin, and despite my new wealth I was not going to turn up my nose at legal tender regardless of the vintage.   I reached down and grabbed the coin.  In that instant, the rock moved, revealing itself to be a Devil Scorpionfish about three inches form my unprotected paw. 

Who knows what you might find in Kailua Bay.

    I surfaced and circled, hoping for a shot of the scorpionfish, but he was long gone.  Perhaps he thought that in my greed I would nab him and, following the fate of the proverbial jumpbuck,  stow him in my tucker bag. 

    This was the end of the Kailua Bay Caper.  Sandra and I are going to follow the lead  of Ned Nederlander and use our new found riches to set up a foundation.  And then we're going to buy a big shiny car and drive all over Kona, showing  Flugelman a thing or two.

    In the meantime, you keep smiling and watch out for any unstowed cash.

jeff

Lobsters at Kahalu'u

    This week we caught a pause in the winter swell and took a quick dip at Kahalu'u.  In the pavilion, Sandra and I encountered the redoubtable Kathleen Clark, who verified that we weren't crazy (or lazy) and, if fact, the surf had been too high to afford acceptable snorkeling conditions for several weeks.  After a pleasant chat, I hit the cool, clear waters of the bay.  Even at this early hour, 0830, there were a few other brave souls snorkeling.

What nature of beast is living (or not) at K Bay

    I made my way into a moderate current and then found something unusual.  Protruding from a chunk of Evermann's Coral which was way past its prime, were two animals.  Were they molluscs?  No.  They were the  disembodied legs of a Tufted Spiny Lobster.  Around the corner I found one more leg, this one laying on the sand, so I was able to position it for photography.

    This may not seem like much of a find.  But in these days of global warming, coral bleaching and a commensurate drop in marine life, one has to treasure what one finds and put it in context.  First, the number of live, intact spiny lobsters I have seen in Hawaii fits comfortably on one hand, no wore than three encounters in 40 years.  This has a lot to do with the lobsters being nocturnal.  Only once have I seen lobsters on one of my rare night snorkels. 

A tufted Spiny Lobster leg, morte.

     So the bottom line is that that those of us who do not go swimming at night have to rely on evidence well south of an entire living animal.  With all these self effacing caveats in play, I still have had only a few encounters with lobster parts: carapaces, legs, etc.  And,to the best of my feeble, aging recollection, I have never before seen one at Kahalu'u.  (Over many years, Sandra and I have been night snorkeling here two or three times and never seen a lobster.)  

    So its good to be able to add this large crustacean to the list for the bay and ponder what nature of nocturnal beast might have defeated such a formidable animal in a battle to the death.  I'd like to think it was a large moray, like one of those yellow margins that leer  at you, nasty sharp teeth gleaming, from a crevice in the coral.  Those brutes remind me of a drug dealer's pit bull and i give them plenty of room.

    Lo and behold, a quick search on you tube uncovered this video of just such an encounter:

  

     While this takes place in the Caribbean, I believe it gives substantial credence to my hypothesis.  Perhaps the next time you go to Costco you can score some lobster tails.  Later, in the sanctity of your home, you can dress up like a moray eel and devour them.  The ultimate in environmental cosplay!

jeff

 

    For those of you who were hoping to end  this blog on a peaceful note, here is a video of a pair of Saddleback Butterflies I captured near the end of this swim.  Sweet dreams!

Seasonality in the Monarchs of the Kona Library

"It is our most modestly priced receptacle."

  The snorkeling in Kona had been uninspiring  after the holidays.  And then the surf came up.  Beaches were closed from La Jolla to Leo Carillo.  Well, those beaches were gleaned from Donny's eulogy near the end of the Big Lebowski. Part of the fun was the mental image of Steve Buscemi surfing.  And, of course, when Jeffrey Lebowski gets  a coating of Donny's ashes you just about fall out of your chair.  Especially if you've had too many White Russians.

   But seriously, just yesterday every beach under state control, from Mahukona to Ho'okena was closed. Luckily, Maude (aka the Redoubtlable SKG) and I had a fall back position.  In lieu of snorkeling we went to get our safety check.  This is our yearly chance to say hello to Bob at Dixon's 76 in the heart of beautiful downtown Kailua.  Bob is a heck of a gentleman and spending a few minutes with him is probably worth the 26 clams Hawaii charges for the safety check.  

   At any rate, Dixon's 76 backs onto the library, home to several crown milkweeds, which  for the last six or seven years have provided us hours of entertainment looking for Monarch caterpillars.  A month or so ago, we captured a caterpillar from those crown milkweeds, along with a few milkweed leaves, brought it back to Casa Ono, and watched him go chrysalis.  He emerged a couple weeks later, and weren't we proud parents!  After capturing a few photos of Manny the Monarch clinging to his now empty chrysalis, we opened the door and off he went.  Out to make his way in the world.  

    It is critical to this story to note that two or three weeks prior to this, there had been no caterpillars in this three plant stand of milkweeds.  Like the mamaki, the host plant to the Kamehameha Butterfly, which unlike North American nettles, grows as a sturdy shrub fifteen feet tall, crown milkweed bears little outward resemblance to the plant they call milkweed back in Minnesota.  This is a seriously big plant.  Some might call it a small tree.  It has thick trunks, a myriad of sturdy branches and countless leaves bigger than my hand.  So when we say there were no caterpillars, we are not talking about three tiny weeds, we are talking about thousands of large leaves and no caterpillars. 

   Back in November, about the time there were no caterpillars, Sandra had received a butterfly house for her birthday.  It would have been early December when we adopted Manny, the first occupant of Chateau Gris. At that time he was the only caterpillar on this stand of highly edible foliage.  Virtually every day of the year one sees monarchs flying around this group of crown milkweeds, but in November and December there were hardly any caterpillars.

Sandra is shocked by the devoured crown milkweed.

   Before we move on, I'd like you to appreciate our monarch in all his glory  And look, if you will, at the tiny chrysalis.  Try to imagine such a large butterfly emerging from such a tiny compartment.  I mean, you'd be lucky to get 100 mg. of Benadryl inside that tiny chrysalis.  Clearly this packaging, is another of God's miracles. Over an hour or so, the butterfly emerges from that miniscule compartment, stretches his wings and pumps fluid into them.  The wings stretch to their full adult dimension, dry and...voila.  You have a fully formed adult monarch.  He will not grow another millimeter for the duration of his life.

    Now let us return to Tuesday morning, January 23rd, 75 days from the place in time when there were no caterpillars.    Sandra and I strolled around the corner and into the parking area behind the library and suddenly we stopped dead in our tracks.  Not as dead as Theodore Donald Kerabastos, but we were in shock. The three milkweed plants (trees) had been thrashed.  From a distance it looked like someone had grabbed each leaf and pulled, leaving only the central vein. A thousand leaves had been devoured in no less than ten days. (Yes, we are sufficiently bored that we go back and check on that stand of milkweed shrubs on a regular basis.)

Monarch Caterpillar 5th Instar, Kona January 2024

    Approaching the milkweed we immediately identified a many caterpillars.  We examined the trees for about ten minutes, identified 4th and 5th instars, but nothing smaller and no chrysalises.  At that point it was necessary to return to Dixson's 76, retrieve the moderately faithful Sportage, and head back to Casa Ono and take a nap.  Amateur entomology is exhausting.  That's my excuse and I'm stickin' to it.

     Thursday was Coffee with a Cop day at the Kailua Kona Public Library.  We are friends with the recently retired DA for this side of the island and she wanted to put in an appearance with her fellow law enforcement associates and view my handiwork at the same time.  So Dale and a couple friends met us for a look at the butterfly exhibit in the library and then we all strolled back to the milkweeds for a look at the real thing.  No surprise, there were plenty of butterflies and, like the day before, plenty of 4th and 5th instars of the monarch caterpillar.  

    This time I was more assiduous in examining the remaining leaves.  To my immense gratification, on the ventral surface of a couple of these leaves I spotted a few tiny caterpillars.  It is a testimony to my cell phone camera that I was able to nab a serviceable picture of a 2nd instar, a mere three millimeters in length.  

2nd instar of the Monarch caterpillar, Kona January 2024

   I sort of forced Dale and Brenda to look at the tiny caterpillars and ooh and ahrr (that's how they say it in Boston, the Hub of true academia), at my photograph on the cell phone.  Having made a couple attempts to produce these instars in clay and acrylic, it was pretty cool to see the real thing.  

    Not only that, but after a bit I found a dark chrysalis, ripe with a  soon to be emerging  monarch within.  Ahh, the miracle of life.

    Additionally,  we found a wasp eating a 4th instar caterpillar, that presumably it had killed.  I commented to my friends that this was just like Wild Kingdom, observing a leopard devouring a sometimes antelope in a tree out on the Serengeti.  I took a movie, which is very good,  but I'm not clever enough to get it into the blog.  You will have to make do with the still photograph, which is pretty exciting in its own right.  Where's Marlin Perkins when you need him?  

 A 3rd instar Monarch caterpillar and possibly an egg, Kona January 2024

    However, its not quite as simple as the leopard and the antelope.  The leopard can eat many different kinds of animals and a variety of carnivores can eat the antelope.  Not so with Monarchs.  That deceased caterpillar had been consuming milkweed 24/7 for two weeks, not only to grow larger in size but to increase his toxicity to birds...and everything else.  While Andrew Zimmer may eat caterpillars in Vietnam, I doubt seriously that he eats Monarch caterpillars!  

   I submit, that this particular wasp has been evolving with the Monarch for, say 20 million years, keeping pace with the toxicity of the milkweed.  And if you were able to go to Indonesia, that cradle of development where crown milkweed may very well have originated, you may well find this same species of wasp that traveled with the Monarch over the seas as an egg or caterpillar, to continue God's work here in Hawaii.  Good luck getting an entomologist to help you with this project. There are so many species of parasitic wasps, that when these learned folk speak of them, they adopt language best suited for Jeffrey Lebowski.  Like, "If you think I'm going to identify that particular f***ing wasp you can go f*** yourself."  I'm not kidding.  And this from somebody who gets paid good money, your money, to sit on his ass at a university and identify insects. 

A Monarch chrysalis ripe for emergence.  Kona 2024

   At this point my friend Dale, who would never use the F word,  said something like,"This was really interesting.  Your enthusiasm is remarkable."  and headed back to the library to enjoy the aforementioned java with the constabulary.

    So why is this important?  There is little in the literature about the seasonality of Monarchs in Hawaii.  They don't migrate and real butterfly guys think that they pretty much go about their reproductive business year round, like showing up for work at the Post Office.  Repetitive and boring.  There is but a single paper that I found a few months ago, written by students at UH Manoa, in which they describe a similar experience to what Sandra and I have documented here.  Suffice it to say, Sandra and I are now convinced that seasonality does exist in the Monarchs of Hawaii Island.

    I recently inquired of Daniel Rubinoff regarding a butterfly that I have not seen, Blackburn's Blue Butterfly.  This butterfly lives in a restricted habitat at altitude, the slopes of Mauna Loa on this island.  He stated that this would be a good time to look for it as the host plants are getting going and, he thought, the butterflies might be more prevalent.   This may or may not be related to our experience with the Monarchs two blocks from the ocean., but it is tantalizing. 

A wasp devours a 4th instar Monarch caterpillar.

    This is not the flowering season for many of our introduced trees, like jacaranda, whose purple blooms spring forth in late April and May, early spring on the temperate mainland.  That will come in two or three months.  And if I had to pick a season, I would have guessed that would be the time at which Monarch reproduction would peak.  

   But the plant that really matters is the crown milkweed.  I must admit that the leaves upon which those tiny caterpillars were dining looked mighty succulent and tasty.  But exercising all my will power, I did not take a few of them home to augment my dinner salad!

jeff