Snowflake Octocoral at Kawaihae Harbor

    This week Peter and Marla returned for a brief visit to Kona.  This afforded me a chance for some excellent snorkeling, if only Peter could fit me into his crowded dance card.  Yesterday morning, the four of us, and even more as it turned out, met at Kawaihae.

Note the gills on this Trembling Nudibranch

    It was a beautiful day, with just a bit of mist at the foot of Kohala mountain as we completed our drive to the harbor.  Tuesday was one of those odd tropical days, when there was very little tidal exchange; as we arrived the tide was low, about plus half a foot and it would stay that way for roughly eight hours.  

   Soon, Peter and I were finishing our preparations, and he noted that I wasn't wearing much in the way of lead, only two pounds compared to the eight that he was wearing.  This is the usual amount that I carry at Kahalu'u where the swimming is much different, with shallow rocks, currents and waves (so maybe I'm more concerned about drowning) than the situation at Kawaihae with still, deep water.  He was polite enough not to criticize me, leaving it up to me to experience the error of my ways on my own.

   As we entered beside the LST ramp, it was obvious that the water was not too cold and very cloudy.  Visibility was less than five feet.  We gave a gentleman who was fishing from the foot of the ramp a wide berth and we swam out to the first platform.  This is the smallest of the three that the army uses to moor the LST which brings some amazingly large, wheeled vehicles from Oahu for maneuvers at the Pohakuloa training base up on the Saddle Road .  A clump of branching coral that once housed a developing Klein's Butterflyfish was still there, with no baby butterflies, and little else.

Painted Nudibranch Kawaihae 2026

   We swam out to the second platform, bigger with many more pilings, but still with no significant finds.  And so, empty handed, we went to the third platform.  Halfway around the shady side I encountered a beautiful soft coral.  When I showed it to Peter, he said that this was likely an octocoral and it may be an invasive species.  Suffice it to say, I took plenty of pictures and we continued our perusals.  

   Simultaneously, we found nudibranchs on opposite ends of the platform.  I found a pretty trembling about eight feet down on one of the inside pillars.  I dove several times in this tight quarter to get a picture that while in focus, is still above the nudibranch.  

Radioles and pinnules, A closeup of a feather duster worm

    As an aside, I have been making a set of larger nudibranchs out of Anne Van Brunt's clay and while this picture is not perfect, it provides a really good look at the gills.  I had not noted the white base in the past and I'm going to have to go back and make tiny alterations to my model.  

   Extricating myself, I swam around to where Peter was working with his nudibranch which was thankfully still visible.  Peter had a Painted nudibranch which was now about four feet deep on the outer, sunny side of a corner pillar.  His nudibranch was small and dark.  Four feet is a difficult depth if you are not wearing enough weight.  If you are trying to flip and free dive, your fins aren't able to get a purchase in the water, and you bob right back to the surface.  If you are appropriately weighted, you can just sink down that short distance.  So that's my excuse for this mediocre picture.  On the bright side, it does illustrate how far forward the gills are on the slender body.  

Snowflake Octocoral. Kawaihae, March 2026

   I'm going to bet that Peter has an excellent picture of this nudibranch, so watch his blog, onebreathkohala, for his excellent pictures and insights.  

   There were at least three feather duster worms on display on these pilings ranging from eight to ten feet deep.  I commented that I could still remember how delighted I was to see my first feather duster and Peter noted that at the minimum they were very photogenic.  With that in mind you are going to be treated to a duster photo or two.

    The individual feathers are called radioles,  The tiny side branches that hold the feather together are called pinnules.  And these are covered with microscopic cilia that beat rhythmically, drawing food to the center of the crown.   More than you wanted to know about feather duster worms?

   The water near shore was impossibly cloudy and so we were soon showering off in what I maintain is the best shower, worldwide. A few feet from the glimmering Hawaiian ocean with a view of Mauna Kea not too far away, this is one spectacular location and the fresh water on a warm day is pretty delightful.  And the perfect place to clean my bleeding leg wounds...swimming around encrusted pilings is bound to inflict some damage!

The orange stalk is actually an encrusting sponge.

   Our friends,  Hai and Lottie and their daughters had arrived, and we visited for a few minutes before Sandra and I needed to dash off for our appointment in Waimea.  

   So what about that octocoral.  Back at the ranch, I reviewed the octocoral in Joh Hoover's critter book.  This piece was written in 1999 and, what with the warming of the oceans, things have changed.  Hoover lists a single species, Sarcothelia edmonsoni, and he notes, as we suspected, that octocoral derives its name from the eight tentacles that are borne by the polyps.  Other corals in Hawaii have six tentacles.

   At this point I repaired to Gemini AI.  Say what you will about the people at Google, but between Google lens and Gemini, they have provided the amateur naturalist with a couple of powerful tools with which to explore, identify and explain our world. 

    So let's scoot ahead to 2026 and see what Gemini has to say about our octocoral situation.

    The really big news is that there is now an exceedingly nefarious octocoral found mostly near Oahu.    This is Unomia stolonifera. Gemini writes, "This is an aggressive, fast growing soft coral that smothers native reefs and has no natural predators in Hawaii. It has already devastated native reefs in Venezuela.

   "It is pinkish white, and is known for its dancing, 'pulsing' motion of its polyps."

   Snowflake Coral, Carijoa riisei, is our established invasive...it's been in Kona for decades.  "It is particularly destructive below 75 meters, where it overgrows and kills Black Coral."  FYI Black Coral is the stuff from which jewelers fashion Hawaii's state gem.

     You will notice in my excellent pictures (you see, I do OK when I'm not bobbing up and down like a frickin cork) that the octocoral appears to have brownish orange stalks leading up to the tentacles.  This is a symbiotic red encrusting sponge, Desmapsamma anchorata.  The relationship makes both species more effective at taking over the reef.  The sponge produces a cytotoxin which defends the octocoral against predators and it strengthens the runners (stolons),  enabling the coral and the sponge to overwhelm the reef more effectively.

And the world will never be the same.

   Snowflake coral grows in diving depths, but is also known from snorkeling depths, especially in harbors where the piers with their pilings provide high water flow and dense shade.

    Voila. If you see an octocoral in Kona today, it is probably Snowflake Coral.  Like real snowflakes the coral tentacles are bright white.  Real snowflakes are reputed to be infinitely singular.  These polyps, on the other hand, dependably bear eight tentacles.  

   The world is changing, so enjoy it while you can,

jeff

The Usual Suspects

     My choice of swimming venues is currently limited, so it seems I am seeing fewer species that might qualify as blog worthy.  Still, I'm seeing some fish that made me very happy when I first started snorkeling in Kona.  Recently the surf has diminished, and the water clarity has improved, providing the opportunity to take some better pictures of what we disparagingly call the usual suspects.  

     A few days ago, I went swimming on the Paul Allen side of the pier and saw painfully little.  That night I dreamed of swimming with eagle rays, perhaps because my best eagle ray encounter, lo these many years ago, took place just seaward of the entrance to Paul Allen's Lagoon.

    As an aside, some of you may wonder about Paul Allen's legacy.  Paul was never a big time fish watcher, but he did provide some serious cash in pursuit of PNW sports franchises.  Immediately after the Seahawks won the Superbowl, their current owner, the Paul Allen Estate, put them up for sale.  His will dictated that his assets, including the Seahawks and the Trailblazers be sold and the proceeds go to charity.  

Pearl Wrasse, Kahalu'u 2026

    Seattle fans have a dream:   MacKenzie Scott (Jeff Bezos's ex), Melinda Gates and Jody Allen (Paul's younger sister and primary heir, who manages the trust that currently owns the Seahawks) will team together to buy the franchise.  It is possible, despite what one hears in the Seattle media, that this is only a dream.  But such a grouping of three fabulously wealthy ladies in the Jet City, coming together to buy the favorite sports team, is the stuff that dreams are made of.

   And what about the Thurston estate, which provides the sea front for Paul Allen's Reef?    Following Paul's death, the estate was sold to Sam Altman, CEO of Open AI for 47 million.   I have not seen anyone using the estate for several years, and now it is back on the market for 49 million.  If one were considering this simply for a base from which to watch fish, there are probably better bargains.

    A couple days after that disappointing swim, I went to Kahalu'u.  To be honest, the highlight of that excursion occurred as I was sitting on a rock in the entry, putting on my fins.  As I sat there, over the seaward lava came a middle-aged foursome.  Walking on those rocks on your way out of the bay is never a good idea.  In this instance, one of the gentlemen had copious blood dripping down both shins.  A true "Oh my God" moment.  Could he have attempted to crawl onto the lava knees first?  Note to swimmers:  swim all the way in and sit in the sand to take of your footwear!

Yellowtail Coris, supermale, Kahalu'u 2026

     At any rate, the water was clear, not too cold, although it wasn't pulsating with marine life.  I did see a couple nice fish, though, including a female Pearl Wrasse near the Rescue Shelter. 

    On my last spin up the middle, I photographed a nice male Yellowtail Coris. This species has four distinct patterns.  The keiki are red and white, sometimes called the Red Labrid Wrasse.  I had been lucky to see one at Ho'okena last week.  There is an intermediate that is fascinating as its coat turns from red and white to the female pattern, which is the most common.  And then you have the big males with the striking cobalt blue and lime green face pattern.  This is certainly one of the most striking among fish we see regularly.

   As you can see, usual suspects in calm, clear water are dramatically better than no suspects in choppy current! 

Teardrop Butterflyfish, Kailua Kona Pier, 2026

   Yesterday, conditions were the most calm yet.  It was one of those days when the tides varied little; it was going to be about half a foot, which is pretty shallow, for most of the day.  Since I wasn't excited about crawling over the rocks at Kahalu'u, we went to the pier.  

    There has been a different cruise ship in port every day for a week.  Yesterday Kailua Kona hosted the Ruby Rainbow, or something like that.  The ship was huge, home to 3,000 guests.  As I stepped into the water, I was greeted by the welcoming smell of diesel exhaust, courtesy of the multiple tenders ferrying the myriad cruisers from ship to pier and back again.  Keeping an eye on those floating buses, I swam out into some exceptionally clear water.  It was as clear as Ho'okena had been last week.  This time I had the camera at the ready, but would I see some worthy subjects?  

     Out past the last swim buoy, over a coral reef, I spied four Teardrop Butterflyfish .  The top of the coral was about eight feet down.  It rose from the bottom perhaps fifteen feet below. I got a picture of all four and one of a single that floated up a little nearer the surface.  This is a nice picture, but it would have been better if the fish was faced more forward.

Oval Butterflyfish, Kailua Kona Pier 2026

   I had seen some Oval Butterflies on the way out and then again among the coral in the deeper water near the fourth swim buoy.  As I worked my way in, I found a cooperative pair in the coral near the second swim buoy.  The water was very clear there and only six feet deep.  

   This is one of my favorite Hawaiian fish.  The bright gold surrounding the pectoral fin reminds me of those illuminated houses made famous a few decades ago by Thomas Kincade.  His publicist portrayed him as the painter of light.  Can these ovals be the butterflies of light?  In any event, they are a jewel among the usual suspects.

jeff

Monarchs Mating in Our Front Yard!

Monarchs doing what they do.

    



Two days ago, in the late afternoon, I was preparing a papaya for dinner. It was a juicy one and messy. Suddenly I heard Sandra (who had climbed our driveway to retrieve the mail) yelling for me. Thinking she was in trouble, I dashed to her aid.

"Are you all right?" I queried.

"There's two butterflies on the ground!" she yelled back.


Now here is a lady in touch with her priorities. This butterfly shit is an emergency!

I made my messy papaya way up to where Sandra was standing. There on the stone step, as advertised, were a pair of Monarch Butterflies, one on top of the other.

Schmoopie had already enjoyed an eye full, so she was dispatched to get a phone (ten years ago it would have been a camera) while I watched the action. What I witnessed was surprisingly violent. One has to assume that it was the male who was on top. He changed position frequently, always keeping the damsel underneath.


Sandra returned with her phone and attempted to take a video. Following that, she took several still shots, which was a good thing, because between the two of us we were unable to produce a video. All of this fetching and photography took five minutes. I said something like, "How long do you think they will go at it?"

Photos courtesy of SKG Studios, Sherman Oaks, Ca.




Sandra is an excellent reader and so she had a much better idea than I. She replied, "The books say this can go on for up to16 hours." We have since verified this, looking specifically at mating behavior in Monarchs, with Mr. Google. After a few more minutes of observation, during which I alternately felt like a voyeur or perhaps that I ought to call the domestic violence team down at Kailua PD, it was apparent that this was going to go on for a while and we might as well leave them to it.

As it turned out we went in and watched the news and had dinner. When we went out after, it was getting dark and the butterflies were either going at it somewhere else, or they had completed the transfer of genetic material and conjugal gifts.


As above, the movie may exist somewhere in Schmoopie's phone, but if it does neither of us can find it. We did have four serviceable still pictures, however, and you can see the two best here. We sent two to Caitlin back in the lower 48 and by the next morning she had replied. "Yes," she said, "that's two butterflies doing what they do."


That Caitlin LaBar is one delicate wordsmith.


For my part, I'm wondering if that male Monarch should be applying for work at one of those seedy video establishments in Sherman Oaks.

jeff

 

A Crazy Morning at Ho'okena with one interesting fish

     Yesterday we went to Ho'okena.  This was our first time at our favorite beach in almost a year; Sandra having hung up her fins and mask has made a substantial difference in where we go.

   We arrived just after 8 AM and, according to the thermometer, in the car, it was only 69 degrees.  That's pretty cool for Hawaii at sea level.   As we had hoped (relying on the StormSurf wave predictor and what we could see from our lanai as the sun came up) the ocean was calm.  It had been raining as we made our way through Captain Cook, up at 2000 feet, but here it was dry with high overcast. 

Ho'okena Jeff.

      For no good reason that I can think of, I had decided to wear my long dive skin, along with my vest and weight belt.  Once tucked into this costume (see picture) I was cozy warm.   Thus attired, I left Sandra in her beach chair, crossword puzzle book in hand, and made my way down the beach to our usual entry.

   Only a small swell was washing up on the black sand.  As I waded in, I considered my get up, coming to the conclusion that the camera was most inconveniently located in my swimsuit pocket... it would require something unusual for me to go to the trouble of retrieving it.   So wouldn't you know it,  I had just started my swim when I saw a fish that I couldn't identify, in eight feet of water, schooling with some goatfish.

   At this point I came face to face with my wardrobe miscalculation.  I undid the weight belt, held onto it while unzipping both the vest and the dive skin, and somehow got the camera out of my velcro pocket, without dropping anything.   I then secured the weight belt and vest flapping, took some pictures.   The best I can think of is Ichabod Crane goes snorkeling.

Barred Jack, Ho'okena, 2026

      So, take a look at the fish.   I could make out the forked tail, but the black markings were confusing me.  Certainly this fish had been the victim of a serious mugging.  Could that have something to do with the odd black markings on its flank?  

    I shared the picture with John Hoover, and he thought it was probably a Barred Jack.  I, too, had noted those faint vertical bars.  More importantly, he commiserated with us about Sandra not swimming, saying he hasn't swum in Hawaii for several years, limiting his diving to warm water like you experience in Indonesia.

    Finally, I had enough photos.   The camera got stuffed in my suit and I secured the weight belt over the dive skin, but under the vest.  Amazingly I was able to get the vest zipped up while wearing a glove. Unless I'm mistaken, this episode pretty much defines a FUBAR.  If only I had dropped the camera, it would have completed this foolish picture.  And after all that, the camera was once again inaccessible!

    

    Although we didn't have sunlight, the water was painfully clear.  Perfect for the photos that would never be.

    

    Shortly thereafter I saw a single male Gilded Triggerfish, only five feet down and hanging in a cattywampus posture, as they are wont to do.  

     I swam out over our tried and true coral patch and bagged both the Potter's and Flame Angelfish.   The coral at Ho'okena is slowly detiorating, giving way to the sand.  It's fortunate that this highly productive patch remains a viable home for these sought after species.

   At this point I was about 75 yards from shore and all alone.  So,I headed back in on an angle, which took me over the coral, which extends up to the decrepit footings of the old pier.   Here I saw a smallish moray, extremely light in color, working with a goatfish.  He was mostly hiding in the coral, so despite me diving for a better look, two good looks from the surface, 12 feet away, were the best we could do.  Uniformly light colored, moray eels are unusual.  I assume this was a stout, based on color and size.

   

Welcome to Ho'okena! (recr3eated by Chat GPT)

    Getting in was easy on this day with virtually no surf.  Soon I had made it to the shower, washed off my excessive garments and found Sandra hiding on the beach side of the little wall that defines the picnic area.  As I got ready to change, I took note of a pair of ladies having a chit chat while enjoying a spliff.   You guys are probably hip, but that is a new word for me this year...a cigarette from which a portion of the tobacco is discarded and replaced with marijuana.  So welcome to Kona.

     After I changed,  my sweetie and I wolfed down our lunch.   Swimming in the ocean and doing crosswords on the beach is hard work deserving of an early lunch!  We washed off our feet and headed to the car.  As we got there, we encountered the picnic table ladies, but they had been joined by four friends.  And everyone had his own joint, puffing away, and enjoying a spirited conversation.  For a moment there, I thought it was 1970 and I was back in a dorm room at the University of Washington.

    Just the other night Keahi Tucker, our local news personality, told us that the legislature is going to be looking into legalizing recreational marijuana.  Obviously, this can't come soon enough for our beach buddies at Ho'okena!

See you at the beach,

jeff

A Dissertation on the Pasta to be Found at Kahalu'u Bay on the Big Island of Hawaii

 

    Yesterday, at long last, Sandra and I made our way down to Kahalu"u .  A few days ago, the entire state had been hit by a major storm involving high winds and rain.   The storm arrived from the west, creating problems on Kauai and Oahu.  By the time it reached the Big Island, the winds had decreased.  However, there was still enough rain to put an end to our drought and pollute the bay for a couple of days.

Domo Arigato, Yasuko Roboto

  

 By yesterday, the surf, or lack thereof, lined up with acceptable water quality and so, here we were, ready to look for some fish.    As we arrived, so did Kathleen Clark.  Like an alchemist of old, I've been turning clay into hermit crabs to the extent that some required gifting away.  Kathleen was our first victim and from the box she chose a Haig's Hermit.

   At this point our friend Yasuko came along, and she was pleased to pick a Hidden Hermit Crab from the box.  This was one of the better specimens we are giving away, replete with a constellaton of stars on the purple chelipeds.  I complemented Yasuko on her good taste.

   

    Gifting completed,   I was soon on my way into the sea.  Before I could take the plunge, Yasuko appeared and we posed cheek by jowl for a selfie.  It was left to Sandra to coordinate a transfer of that selfie with our Japanese friend.  What you see here is what she sent, apparently a post from her Facebook page. I post it as Exhibit A, proof that we actually have a Japanese friend.

the K Bay Cleaning Station

    So, finally I got in the water.   The tide was just right, but the water in the entryway was freezing!  Coldest water yet this winter.  Luckily, as I paddled out into the bay the water warmed up.  But it was still cold.

   Almost immediately I saw a Blue Stripe Snapper, which despite the fact that its an introduced species, is a nice fish.  And over in the inner corner I found a cleaning staion with two cleaners and a nice variety of fish awaiting their service.

   After that, it was not so much.  It's a good year for Rockmovers, which were plentiful.  Its still too early for their keiki, or the Dragon Wrasse, which I hope to see as winter turns into spring.

Medusa Worm, Kahalu'u 2026

  

     Out in the middle I finally found something interesting.  Harboring in the lee of a coral was a Medusa worm. Also called spaghetti worms, these critters, with their long pasta-like tentacles, are not particularly uncommon.  Usually, however, one sees only a few arms, not the central point from which they emanate.  

  

   Here we found the center, with arms radiating out like the spokes of a wagon wheel, albeit with spoke created from pasta.   

    Our hero, John Hoover, tells us that although we might have hoped that the thing you see in the middle, the hub of the wheel, as it were, was the animal.   This is not the case.  It's probably a shell or something similar, serendipitously located to look like the origin of all those tentacles.  Much like a feather duster worm, the Medusa Worm  lives in a calcified tube a few inches in length.   Unlike the feather duster, where you can see the tube, jutting up like the handle to the duster, this tube is buried in the sand.  In this way, the only one who gets to see the tube, wherein lies the worm, is a species of cone shell that burrows in the sand with the sole ambition to dine upon said worm.  

   Nevertheless,  it was pretty cool to see the central point with the radiating tentacles, a first for me. Hoover says the tentacles extend up to two feet.  These had to be much longer, requiring a much bigger spaghetti fork.

Time to make some soup!

 

   A word about those tentacles.  I am a big pasta fan.  Here in Hawaii quite a variety of Asian noodles are readily available.  Hence, we can be a bit more accurate and say that these tentacles are not thin like spaghetti, but rather thick, just thinner than your average pencil.  As pasta goes, I'd say they are very much like Udon noodles, which when served in a bowl with broth, soy sauce, spicy mustard, won tons and a bit of chicken make one heck of a soup.   So, who do I write to and suggest a change in the common name from Spaghetti Worm to Udon Worm? 

   Well, that's almost enough nonsense for today.  But since we are talking about pasta, I am reminded of my amigo Mike Van Ronzelen, perhaps the best birdwatcher with whom I have raised a pair of binoculars.  Mike is now watching birds in St, Peter's Wood.  God bless him.

   Among other unusual hobbies, Mike collected palindromes.  In this instance he might invoke: Go hang a salami, I'm a lasagna hog.  Find yourself a mirror and try it out.  It's a doozy.

   And something to contemplate the next time you're floating in the bay, face to face with an Udon Worm. 

jeff

   Last night Ken Jennings and his writers at Jeopardy! taught us a new word, incredibly pertinent to this blog:  Spaghettification.  When a body, be it a marine worm or your best friend, enters a black hole he or she is torn to shreds and this is what scientists call that process.  Sadly, it has nothing to do with some boiled noodles and a bottle of Prego.

A moring at Kahalu'u including the juvenile Shortnose Wrasse

    This morning it was supposed to rain and that put a monkey wrench in the day's agenda, which was slated to feature doing the laundry.  This being Hawaii, where electricity is ridiculously expensive, we dry our undies in the sunshine on lines strung web-like across the lanai.  Its tres upper crust, dahling,  More like Dogpatch goes island living.  

The resident Milletseed, January 2026

   Anyway, we couldn't dry laundry in the rain, so I checked the wave predictor, which looked good, and the tides. Tides4fishing proclaimed that there would be a high low tide today, never lower than half a foot.  With the stars lined up like that, it was time to head to Kahalu'u.                                          

     We got to K Bay around 8 AM.  Yasuko was extracting parking fees from the tourists and the meet and greet part of the operation was being handled by Haley (with an H, like the comet.) She may be more competent in the fish watching department than some of the other reef teachers (God bless them, one and all), so I asked if anything new had come up recently.  As it turned out, she had been sick, so was not up to speed on what might be skulking about in the bay.

 

 Soon I was swimming.  the water was calm with modest current, as we had hoped and not too cold. 

     Early in the swim I spotted a the resident Milletseed Butterfly.  this guy may have lived here for a couple years.  Butterflyfish eat coral polyps, so his pickings are probably just enough for one as K Bay coral is on the decline.

Spiteful Cone, K Bay 2026

     Soon after, I found a large cone shell.  I'm calling this a Spiteful Cone, Conus lividus.  It was about 4 inches in length, which is pretty big.  I handled it carefully and got the pictures you see here.  It's not a very pretty species.  Hoover tells us it is fairly common, although I don't see it often.  I had been under the impression that it possessed a dangerous sting, but research tells us that it eats marine worms and its sting is painful, but far from fatal.   

I played carefully with this guy to position him for the shot you see.  At this point I was under the impression that the sting could be fatal, so I took care to keep my gloved hand away from the small, pointy end from which the siphon and the stinger protrude.

     Cone shells that kill and eat fish are the dangerous ones to humans.  In Hawaii that would be the Textile Cone.  In my experience, this species is rarely seen, and I've never seen one over two inches in length.  So, it would appear that vis a vis cone shells, we're safe.

     I made it over to the corner by the Menehune Breakwater.  As it was early and there were few swimmers, I was hoping for an octopus. We saw nothing of much interest there, so I back tracked and headed up the middle.  

     

    

         

 There, among the living corals, I had some success.  A juvenile shortnose Wrasse was schooling with some juvenile belted wrasse.   We had heard from Kathleen a few weeks ago that one of these had been seen, so I was very pleased, but not totally surprised.  This was a very active little fish, floating with the currents, making sudden bursts in unpredictable directions.  I followed it for a few minutes taking several still shots.  This was going nowhere so I took a short video.  And that is what you see above.  

 

 It took me about an hour to shorten this clip to a length that the blog would accept.  I hope you enjoy it.  

    While I was chasing the juvenile Shortnose Wrasse, a Freckled Hawkfish appeared at my elbow.  They are shy, but they seem so friendly, what with the freckles.  So, I'll leave you with Mr. Freckles and hope you have a great day.   

jeff

 

A Volcano Update

 As you may know, we live 90 miles by road from Kilauea, which hides from Kailua Kona behind Mauna Loa, a seriously large mountain.  It takes us two hours to drive to Hawaii Volcano National Park and any effects we experience from Madame Pele's eruptions have to circumvent the mountain.  In this same way, Mauna Loa protects us from hurricanes.  

   

A recent lava fountain at Kilauea

Since we have returned, Madame Pele (the Volcano Goddess synonymous in Hawaii with volcanic eruptions) has learned a new trick.  For the past few months, when Kilauea erupts, it shoots fountains of lava into the sky.  As we are pretty far away and my attention span is perilously short, it wasn't until the last few weeks that I realized just how high these fountains were.   Suffice it to say, I was surprised to find out that when the volcano erupts in such a spectacular fashion, it may be difficult to get into the park, for so many people in their cars are flocking to the sight.  But this isn't really a problem, because you can see the sky reaching lava from miles away while sitting in traffic.

Watch out King Kong!

   Two days ago, Madame Pele added a new twist.  This eruption sported the highest lava fountains yet, over 1,600 feet.  This is higher than two Space Needles stacked on top of one another or (if you are oriented to the east coast) higher than the Empire State Building.   (Watch out King Kong! Madame Pele gonna toast yo ass!)

    But that's not all.  This eruption forced me to learn a new word: Tephra.  Tephra is any solid material that comes out of a volcano.  The ash from Mount St. Helen's was tephra.  Kilauea has spouted some ash, but it also sends tiny glass particles, which Hawaiian's call Madame Pele's Hair, into the atmosphere.  In addition to the ash and the glass, this time Kilauea dropped rocks the size of golf balls as far away as Pahoa, 17 miles away.  The evening news showed the lacerated scalps of some unsuspecting pedestrians and a broken windshield or two.  

    Up to this rock dropping moment, we had been planning a trip to coincide with an upcoming eruption.  This little jaunt is under reconsideration pending a discussion with State Farm.  

   

The perfect libation.  Just add ICE.

All of the above leads me into last night's local news.  As the rain from the sky quickly percolates through the lava and into the sea, it is difficult to dig wells...the water just isn't down there.   The way they catch their water is by channeling what falls on the roof into a tank.  Some people use an above ground swimming pool.  And many of these people live near Kilauea.  It took the nice people who look after us only a day to decide that all the catchment water near the volcano was compromised.  

The state has provided a service for old folks who can't clean their roofs and tanks, someone will come and clean your roof, etc.  So, with any luck, the tiny, jagged glass particles won't end up in anyone's gut where they can cause a lot of damage.

  

   Or if you are an entrepreneur out in the wild west town of Pahoa, perhaps you could capture some of the runoff and put it in a bottle.  I understand that a few Mexican restaurants around Minneapolis might be interested.

jeff