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

       

The Exhibit: Sea Creatures of Kawaihae Harbor at the Kailua Kona Library

    Snorkeling has been slow this week, but on the other hand, the exhibit is up and running through the end of February.  So here are some pictures for those of you who can't make it to our library in the next five weeks.  Jennifer Kau'i Losalio Young (she's has somehow through marriage and her renewed emphasis on her Hawaiian heritage acquired a bunch of names), was a big help.  We insisted that she give herself a little credit and I, in turn, gave her a clay hermit crab.  Everybody's happy.  

 

Here I am standing in front of the exhibit.  If you look carefully, you will see that in the "About the artist blurb," there is a picture of Sandra and me butterfly watching on Mount Hood.  Jen insisted that we have a picture that included both of us.  She really appreciates how much Sandra brings to the project.

Here is the exhibit map that Jen put together.  She told us that when previous exhibits have been running, people will stand in front looking at the guides and attempt to identify all the fish, butterflies, and what have you.  It's gratifying to think that we might be making a tiny difference.

  And here is the brochure that Jen put together that we are attempting to place in strategic spots around Kailua.

     For completeness' sake, here are three pictures taken by schmoopie, showing each side of the diorama and the hermits and shrimp in the middle.  

To all you out there who support the blog, thanks a bunch.  If someone is looking at this and they have time to get to the library, pleased stop and say hHi to Jen.  You'll find her ensconced behind a desk in the young adult section.

Last but not least, I have really gotten into the clay hermits.  Here are a few of the new style hermits.  A bit like a carcinologist's paperweight, perhaps.

See you at the library, 

jeff

The Invertebrates of Kawaihae Harbor An Exhibit at the Kailua Kona Library January 15th

     While we have been mostly focused on the finishing touches to the upcoming extravaganza at the library, which opens this coming Thursday, I have squeezed in a little snorkeling.  

     On Wednesday, Sandra dropped me off at the pier.  The cruise ship was in, so I walked through the hotel and chose to snorkel on the Ironman side.  The tide was high; there was more swell than we expected, and the water was cloudy.  Not only that, but with the cruise ship tenders coming and going, I was restricted to the designated swimming area.  

Hazlitt's Hermit Crab

    I saw very little and the camera stayed in my pocket.  The only picture I took that day was of an Asian couple who posed for a photo in front of the Kona Boys shack.  After taking their picture (with their camera) I asked where they were from.  The gentleman said Toronto. The New York City of Canada, I replied and his wife chuckled.  They spoke with a thick accent, which I assume, as they were Canadian, was a French accent.  But of course!

   The next day, Thursday, the surf was down.  I checked the tides and decided that a morning swim at Kahalu'u was just the thing.  We arrived around 9 AM to find the gate locked and bearing a Beach Closed sign.  We saw people in the water, so we walked in and found our friend Yasuko on patrol.  She said that the park was closed for maintenance and would reopen in an hour.  I asked about swimming and she said the swimmers were breaking the rules, but nobody would stop them.  So it was OK for me to swim?  

Indian Caloria Nudibranch

    I put on my neoprene vest and hit the water.  I had been swimming for about ten minutes when the lifeguard got on his horn and told all the swimmers that the park was closed and we had to get out. As it turns out, this didn't make much sense because all the swimmers were tracking sand where the cleaners had just done their job.  I had one picture of a Hebrew cone for my efforts.

    Note to beach goers: Kahalu'u is closed the first Thursday of every month from 8 to 10 for maintenance.

    As per my opening, most of our time lately has been spent fine tuning the exhibit which will run from January 15th until the end of February.  A month ago, I solicited help from Hai On, our friend who got us started at Kawaihae years in the past, and who several of you out there in Blog-land have met personally.  Hai was too busy with his children and other relatives to take me snorkeling at the scene of the crime.  However, he has become involved with a project supported by iNaturalist, the populist arm of the California Academy of Science.  In lieu of a snorkel, he sent me the web page iNaturalist has devoted to his species list (two other observers are included in the compilation, but I only used Hai's).  There is a map of Kawaihae with itty bitty numbers to show where the species were found.

   Not to mention a veritable plethora of captioned pictures of the animals of Kawaihae.  Eureka!

Ornate Hermit Crab

    Of course, I had a lot of my own information, but Hai, being the veritable Tom Bombadil of Kawaihae, had much more.

    I had already produced six species of nudibranchs that I had seen at Kawaihae, along with several sponges, bryozoans and what have you.  Hai's list gave me two more nudibranchs and some other obscure animals.  I'm including here models of one of the nudibranchs.  New to you, unless you happen to be Peter Krottje...the Indian Caloria.  The Kahuna Nudibranch is safely tucked away.  As you can see, the Caloria doesn't lend itself to tucking.

    Additionally, over the last few weeks, I started making hermit crabs.  Joyce Kilmer might protest: only God can make a hermit crab.  Well, these are merely models, they can't walk around or pinch you if they end up, somehow, in your pocket.  But I think they are pretty darn good and despite the fact that they are not emblematic invertebrates of Kawaihae, they are common enough that they must at least be in the vicinity. And possessing a modicum of hubris, I'm including them in my diorama.

Seuratt's Hermit Crab

    It seemed like everything was coming together.  On Thursday I repainted the background.  this sounds easy but I was exhausted from ten minutes of snorkeling, so it was a significant task.  Then on Friday morning we staged a dress rehearsal.  We put the two panels on the table on the lanai, got out all the clay and paper mache figures with the intention of attaching many of them permanently to their new cardboard home.  We had everything in place.  

    At this point, I got out my little bag of rooster tail feathers.  Amazon calls these craft feathers and you can buy a couple dozen for about eight clams. 

     Suddenly disaster struck.  I had totally underestimated the circumference of a rooster quill.  Someone like Thomas Jefferson, who history tells us penned the DoI with a quill, would have known these things are not exactly small.  Aside from watching the handsome devils strut around our rural neighborhood, I possess a minimum of first hand experience with roosters.  

Is Kailua Kona ready for this?

    The craft feathers are destined to fill out two feather duster worms.  The small upright brown tubes I had fashioned on the cardboard (which Sandra declared to be more than a bit phallic) were each supposed to contain a dozen quills.  The best we could stuff in was five. 

   There is a current joke about Melania.  When asked if she was aware of Donald's venous insufficiency, she replied, "Yes.  Donald has a very small venous."  You can see this on youtue/SNL.  LMFAO.  I just learned that.  Isn't the internet wonderful?

    Meanwhile, my small venouses have been, much like MacDuff, untimely ripped.   MacDuff went on to kill MacBeth.  My little brown tubes went on to the garbage box. New tubes have been fashioned and I am debating whether or not I will repaint the background on both panels for the third time.  And do I have time for another substandard snorkeling excursion before the exhibit goes up? Stay tuned.

jeff   

A Boxing Day Spectacular at Kahaku'u

    Christmas Day went off as planned.  We saw Kathy and Vernon in the morning before they left for the airport.  They bestowed upon us, as a sort of Christas gift, some of the stuff left over from their family vacation and returned car seats and boogie boards.  This meant we didn't have to drive to the airport, which was a Christmas blessing in and of itself. 

Ember Parrott, Kahalu'u Boxing Day 2025

    Back at home, Sandra and I collaborated on a big bowl of garlic alfredo mashed potatoes.  These were consumed on the lanai of the Lutheran Church of the Holy Trinity, along with all the elements of a potluck feast, such that we struggled home and took a Rip van Winkle caliber nap.  Whether the nap was well deserved, I leave it to you to decide.  

    We shared a table at the Christmas feast with a couple of about our age, read: just this side of decrepit.  They hail from a very smalltown north of Milwaukee.  Mabel (the names are changed to protect the innocent) was very sweet and couldn't abide a football rivalry where you actually hated the opposing fans.   She's obviously never been to Autzen Stadium.  

    The Badgers, who are blessed with a devoted following in a state best known for Pabst beer, are long time denizens of the Big 10, which has now expanded like the British Empire.  That's right, the sun never sets on the Big 10.  There are so many new teams that Mabel and Barney needed to know who the bad guys were.  

The only thing missing from this picture is a target.

      In fact, it wasn't the Ducks that I was attempting to indoctrinate her against, not that with Phil Knight and his Nike filthy lucre don't deserve it, but the University of Spoiled Children.  Most especially, if you really want to despise something, you can start with the USC marching band, their fake Roman red and gold uniforms and that martial refrain that would make a self-respecting Centurion run screaming into the Visigoth horde.  

    Mabel said, and I'm not making this up, "If the children are spoiled it must be the parents fault."   I think Mabel may live a little too far out in the woods.

    For Barney's part, he noted that in his business he'd never met anyone from California that he liked.  Maybe he was just humoring me.  FYI, there's a shitload of people in California, some of whom are really nice.  And excellent fish watchers!

    Anyway, as Mabel was so precious, that on the way home I composed her a limerick.  I'm going to print it and give it to her at church, so she can put it on her refrigerator. 

Apparently, Badgers don't hate anybody

   We live fifty miles north of Milwaukee 

   Where we fish for bass and play hockey. 

   We never say f*** 

   When we're hit with a puck. 

  And the bass are not spiteful or cocky.

   And this brings us to Boxing Day.   December 26th dawned clear and bright, just like it says in Mele Kalikimaka.  This made it ideal for doing yard work.  I filled up two barrels with leaves, Monstera leaves, Buddha belly leaves, leaves from the lemon tree, the Bodhi tree, etc.  I may have more dead leaves than there are people residing in California.  I've got a call in to Gavin Newsome's office to verify this.  I let you know when the governor gets back to me.  

Christmas Wrasse on Boxing Day 2025, Kahalu'u

   At any rate, when I finished with the leaves I went out on the lanai and was pleased to see that there was absolutely no surf.  My long-lost swim buddy, she'd only been gone for 24 hours at this point, had refreshed my religion, Fishwatching, as if there was any doubt, and I knew I had to answer the call.  Thus, Sandra was throwing me out of the car at exactly 11 AM.  The shelter at Kahalu'u was packed, but a nice Indian family from Mountain View made room for me.  Soon I was changed and headed for the rocky entrance.

    Noticia para esnorkelers!  Some person, possibly a well-intentioned reef teacher has placed four flagstones just past the first set of rocks at the K Bay entrance.  If they only had about hundred more of these paving stones, they could get their foot friendly trail all the way out to deep water.  But these four stones provide one's tender footsies a respite for about three feet.  Does the phrase "pissing in the ocean" seem appropriate?

Nothing's impossible, simply impassable.

   I soon had my flippers on, ready to take on the real challenge.   There was a plethora of people crowding the entrance.   As I had suspected, as I stood on our lanai, the water was quite still.  If one had water shoes this apparently made it ideal to just stand in the entry, no swimming necessary, no inconvenient waves to knock you over.  This created a forest of legs for me to negotiate.  I must have seen fifty pairs of water shoes as I slithered over the rocks. The main channel was so clogged as to be, in the words of the doorknob in Alice in Wonderland, impassible.

   As the people were standing still, this turned out to be somewhat less difficult than I anticipated.  Soon I was swimming in fairly clear water with no waves or current to speak of.   And, considering the crush of humanity at the entrance, very few fellow swimmers. Soon I was out among the coral, and a gentleman near me pointed out a large Pictus moray eel that was hunting ten feet away.  This is a big eel, so the size of this guy, big, didn't surprise me.  

Milletseed Butterfly, Boxing Day 2025

    Almost immediately, right here in the middle, I saw a male Ember Parrotfish.  This is not an unusual sighting at Kahalu'u. but this is an edible fish, spear fishing is allowed, and these guys are shy.  This fellow, on the other hand, swam away so slowly that I was able to get three good shots.  As you will see there was something in the water that was slowing down these otherwise wary fish.

    Over by the Rescue Shelter, among some coral that has seen better days, I encountered a beautiful big Christmas Wrasse.  Like his buddy, the male Ember Parrot, this guy was in no hurry to get away.  Ordinarily a Christmas Wrasse swims quickly by.  It's like, "Adios amigo, see you next year." This fellow allowed me three good shots and then swam up the middle at such a leisurely pace that I followed him for a couple minutes.  I kept taking pictures, but they were of the south end of a north bound fish, so you won't see any of those here. 

Pearl Wrasse male, Boxing Day 2025

 

    By the time I looked up, I was fairly far out.  There was no risk of being run down by a surfer.  Although a surprising number were out on surfboards, and there was no surf to speak of.

    Eventually I swam back in where I encountered what must be the one resident Milletseed Butterfly.  Kathy and I saw what must be the same fish the day the SD card was missing.  

   At this point I was swimming towards the exit when I ran into the male Pearl Wrasse.  As with the Milletseed, this must be the same fish I saw the day before Kathy arrived.  This time the conditions were better, and I'd had more recent experience with the camera.  I followed the fish until he got to a patch of water that was clear of temperature effect and well lit.  It's a good picture, and it reveals a bit of an injury just below the dorsal fin.  One has to suspect the reason we are seeing this otherwise wary fish is that he is not quite up to snuff.  Lucky for him he has a protected place to spend his golden years.  Do I resemble that remark? 

jeff 

A second look at the Christmas Wrasse on Boxing Day

The Christmas Wrasse Cometh 2025

    If you are a friend of the blog, you must have been on edge as Christmas bore down upon us like a load of fertilizer inadvertently dumped into a Mustang convertible.  Would he, or would he not, see the Christmas Wrasse on the appointed day.  That day moved a few years ago to December 24th, as Christmas Day has become excessively cluttered with sundry obligations.  

The Big Fish is no longer in the King Kam Hotel

    Yesterday, as you probably know, was both Christmas Eve and a Wednesday.  Wednesday is important here in the land of swaying palms and avocado tree blight, as it is not only one of the three days in a week that the Kealakehe Transfer Facility accepts yard debris, but it is also the day that the Carnival Cruise ship drops anchor in Kailua Bay.  Like clockwork, every Wednesday morning finds us motoring down the hill towards the Kuakini Highway.  a can or two of leaves and branches bouncing around in the back, as we simultaneously admire the monster cruise ship, gleaming a dazzling white on the sunlit bay.  This day, to the contrary, we had a load of snorkeling equipment in lieu of leaves and branches.

   Sandra was driving the sleigh when we, doing our best imitation of Mister Grinch and Max, passed Ka'ahumanu Place.  Our customary drop off area was suffering a double dip of pandemonium with the cruise ship crowd piled onto the mob associated with Christmas Eve in the Sandwich Islands.   We had anticipated this situation, and she dropped me off in front of the Marriott.

Ornate Hermit Crab Christmas 25

   Walking through the hotel on the way to the beach, I was admiring their Christmas tree when I ran smack dab into a black hole.  The Big Fish, an enormous world record Marlin, posed as if leaping against a thousand-pound test fishing line, was gone!  The Big Fish had been our family landmark for decades, as in, "I'll meet you at the Big Fish."  I was able to lasso an employee who said that the fish had been moved to the Royal Kona Resort.  No reason given.  We'll have to check it out.

   I made it through the hotel, which was almost deserted and out to the lagoon, which was an absolute mob scene.  Lucky for me, Kathy was right there in front of the Kona Boys shack.  Aside from my swim buddy, the first thig I noticed was that the water was really high, lapping at the sea wall.  As we donned our swimming attire, standing ankle deep in the high tide, I noticed to my surprise that the water was warm.  In the Inner Harbor the water is usually 75 degrees, maybe colder, but these lapping wavelets were possibly over 80 degrees.

    As we turned to go in, two teams of paddlers came ashore.  We stepped aside while they rolled their canoes into the yard, each on its large tired canoe dolly.  All part of the Christmas circus.  

     Once in the water, the madness receded and we were alone in the watery world.  Knowing that the little bay might be our best chance for a Christmas Wrasse, my head was on a swivel, but there were relatively few fish and no Christmas Wrasse.  We searched the area beside the heiau and both sides of the rip rap that forms the breakwater.  There were a few Koles, (Kathy's new found friends), looking back at us with their watery gold rimmed eyes, but no Christmas Wrasse.  

    As we crossed the little bay, heading for Paul Allen's lagoon, we ran across a couple stands of meandrina coral.    In the second I found a guard crab relatively out in the open, a cute little guy that was a yellowish orange.  I slipped aside so Kathy could get a look and by the time I returned he was gone.  No picture, hence, identification is impossible beyond saying that it was a guard crab.

The dependable Red Pencil Urchin, Christmas 25

    A few feet away I noticed a shell wedged among the branches of the coral.  I dove down about three feet and repositioned the shell with the aperture facing out.  Almost immediately I was rewarded with an emerging Ornate Hermit Crab.  It took a couple dives in the shallow moving water, but I finally snapped this picture, using the automatic flash and focus.  It is a long-standing maxim in photography that the flash stops the action.  Another maxim is that you ought to hold still while you take the picture.  With bobbing down and back up the three feet and the current moving me sideways, I was far from still.  So here is the best picture I got.  The flash startled the crab, so after that one effort he was back in hiding.

    These were the first crabs I had seen since our return, and I was much relieved to find them.  Despite my poor photographic efforts, these small animals are a magnificent addition to our local fauna.  In these days of climate change, with one species after another drizzling off the palette, one doesn't know, until he sees his long lost friend, just who might have disappeared forever. 

   We finished crossing the bay and scoured the area outside Paul Allen's Lagoon, another likely spot, without seeing a Christmas Wrasse.  Here I got a mediocre picture of a pair of teardrops to go along with my crabby effort.

Juvenile Christmas Wrasse like I saw.

    On the outside, along the wall that defends the Thurston Estate, we saw very little.  The tide was high enough that we were able to swim over the reef flat and back into the bay.  Once I saw a male shortnose wrasse in one of the depressions here.  And wouldn't that have been a fine Christmas present!  But wrasses, shortnose, five stripe and Christmas, were not to be found. 

    By the time we swam around the rip rap and were patrolling the edge of the heiau, I was working up my excuses and justifications, wondering if I could somehow squeeze a snorkel at Kahalu'u  into my Christmas Day obligations.  Se deep was my remorse that I took a picture of one of our best invertebrates, the Red Pencil Sea Urchin, that is nowhere better represented than in the entryway to the Inner Harbour.  

Its going to come together.

    Now here is an animal you can count on.  It's always there, and it holds still to get its picture taken.  All urchins should take a lesson from this fine fellow.  And fiddlesticks on the Christmas Wrasse.

    Just as suddenly, as I neared the inner corner of the heiau. a juvenile Christmas wrasse swam right in front of me.  I yelled, "Here it is!" into my snorkel and pointed as the little trout did a loop de loop around a rock and swam away.  A ten second look at five feet was more than good enough! 

   I turned to Kathy and asked if she had seen it.  "Oh yes!" she said.  "It was yellow!'

   Well, the little fish that I had seen was bluish, sort of like those characters that tormented Ringo and Paul in their Yellow Submarine adventure.  The submarine might have been yellow, but my little fish, and their Meanies, were blue.  

    Once we cleared the shallow water, my swim buddy and I had a discussion.  Clearly, we had seen different fish.  Kathy had done some due diligence (good for her) the previous evening and she knew what a Christmas wrasse looked like.  I noted that a Christmas Wrasse is usually checked red and green. to which she replied, those colors might have been present, but this fish was yellow.  We left it at that and darned if, trailing just a few feet behind me, she didn't see the same fish again on the way to shore.

Kathy... "This is exactly what I saw."   photo Waikiki Aquarium

   If anything, the circus in the vicinity of the Kona Boys shack was worse than when we embarked on our quest.  We got our showers and said our Merry Christmas Wrasse goodbyes. 

     This was a great week of snorkeling with Kathy, and it couldn't have ended any better.  I hope you had a wonderful Christmas with wrasses darting between the sugar plums (whatever they are) in your dreams.

    Mele kalikimaka, 

    jeff

Merry Christmas from Pepper-land!