April 2016 Life is a beach

   Wednesday dawned bright and blue.  As I sped away from the Kealakehe transfer station, having deposited a trunkful of monstera and hapu'u, which is the Hawaiian name for tree ferns.  This particular cleaning was in preparation for a visit by my last remaining friend from high school, who is the dean of the

Red Shoulder Surgeon Adolescent with Manini  2016

business school at UH Manoa.  As I sped south on the Queen K Highway, I mused on the comparison.  Here is my friend the dean, traveling the world on behalf of UH, while I'm an out to pasture gas passer, spending my days on the beach and making paper mache fish.  Given that we both live in the 50th state, could our lives be more different?  Well, I suppose I could be homeless, but let's hope we don't have to go there.

    Having negotiated the upper reaches of Kailua, I made the turn down Kam III to Kahalu'u.  Always your faithful correspondent, I was hoping to strike up a conversation that would lend itself to some amusing blogging.  Finding a shelter littered with the mundane, I headed into the ocean.

    I had timed my trip to the recycling center, and hence my snorkel, to correspond with the tides.  At 9:30 it was the lower of the two highs, about three quarters of a foot.  Not so high that the waves would wash over the Menehune breakwater and, more importantly, high enough so one could easily slither through the rocky

Imm. Red Shoulder Surgeon  2012

entrance.  Summer is on the way and those of us with tender feet are hoping that the sand entrance will soon be recarpeted with, well, sand.

    Out in the bay, the water was clear and I was soon rewarded with an adolescent Red shouldered surgeon.  The red shoulder surgeon is one of our most common fish and handsomely colored.  The well known adult is two tones of gray, the front two thirds a light gray and the after portion darker.  A long red ellipse is emblazoned just where one might place the shoulder...if fish had shoulders.  This red stripe is remarkably similar in hue to the stripe on the bow of a coast guard cutter.
 
     As it turns out, the red slash, canted 64 degrees forward, was first proposed in 1964 by the industrial design firm of Raymond Loewy / William  Snaith. It may now be revealed that Mr. Snaith,  a navy brat who

Pantone 175

 spent his formative years near Pearl Harbor, was inspired by the shade of red, well on its way to orange, worn so proudly by the red shoulder surgeon..  Officially this color is known as Pantone 179.  Snaith lobbied long and hard for the name, Surgeon Shoulder Red, but the people at the Department of the Navy said enough is enough.  By 1967 all of our Coast Guard vessels were decked out with this inspiring red blaze.

   I, for one, can not remember a time when our coast guard cutters did not bear that red stripe and I secretly thrill every time I see it.  

   The shape of the red ellipse is repeated in a blue surround.  The overall effect is that of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  Could this be a coincidence?  The creationist who lives next door claims that God designed all animals, down to the last detail.  Is it possible that the dear good lord is a fan of motor racing?  Food for thought.

Coast Guard Cutter William J. Snaith

    As it matures, the red shouldered surgeon under goes a remarkable transition,  the smallest keikis are the same yellow as the yellow tang, albeit roughly the shape of the mature RSS.  While quite small they acquire the red shoulder patch.  Initially a ghostly outline, the patch becomes more deeply hued as the fish matures.   In this adolescent, we see a a fish that is just emerging from the yellow coat of his childhood and will soon be two tone gray.  If one is observant, he can see the yellow babies commonly in late summer.  To catch a transforming adolescent like this fellow is a rare treat.  I followed him around for a while to catch the photograph you see here.

    For those of you who are playing along at home, I'm including a picture of the adult RSS that I took on the same outing.  Sad to say, as I was reviewing my pictures under the awning at K Bay, I deleted my best effort.  Klutz!  I'm also including a picture of an immature taken in early October of 2012 at Ho'okena.  Sadly, I can not find a picture of the

Saddleback Butterflyfish, C, ephippium   Kahalu'u 2016

extreme immature, lacking the bar or any vestige of the two tone coloring.

   The remainder of this swim yielded two nice buterflyfish pairs.  As you can see, the saddleback butterflies were swiming in bright sun, nibbling tidbits from the rocky bottom.  The Raccoon pair was chilling in the shade of a coral head, one or the other occasionally making a foray out of cover for a bit of tea.  In much of the English speaking world, which is to say that part that is more dependent upon England, per se, for its linguistic traditions, this means a light meal.  Or, at least, such is my conceit.

   We enjoyed our visit with the dean immensely.  On our way down to K Bay the following morning, Sandra announced  (yes, I finally got Sandra to come snorkeling) that it was refreshing to be able to talk intelligently

Raccoon Butterflyfish  C lunula  Kahalu'u 2016

to someone for a change.  She reflected for a moment and then added, "Current company excepted, of course."

   Similar to the day before, there were no worthies to be coaxed into conversation, so we soon found ourselves back in the soup.  The adolescent red shouldered surgeon was not to be found and the pair of saddle back butterflies was similarly absent, but it was a pretty good day for hermit crabs.  Clinging to a coral was a pontifical miter.  Neither Sandra nor I could get him to let loose, so we honored his tenacity and the occupant remains a mystery.

    "How", you may ask, "do you know that there was a hermit crab inside that shell? Would not the legitimate molluscan owner cling tightly to the coral?"   Well.  In our experience as amateur carcinologists, when ever, in these very Sandwich Islands, one encounters a small shell that clearly does not belong where it

For heaven's sake! Don't start pontificating.

is, there is probably a hermit crab inside.  Further, Sandra is fairly confident that somewhere in a box we still possess a pontifical miter shell.  This would be a remnant of the bad old days when we brought hermit crabs back to the aquarium which we kept on the lanai at Alii Villas.  As in this case, sometimes our charges arrived in flamboyant clothes, sort of like Dick Grayson arriving at the Bat Cave.  Once in their new home, they would have to contend with the other hermit crabs, who each night would duke it out for the best shell.  To make a long story short, in the case of Pontifical Miters and hermit crabs, we've got the T-shirt.

Holy Hermit Crabs, Batman!  Can't you make him stop?

    A bit further on, there was a family of Hazlett's hermit crabs wearing a variety of different shells. The pater familias was downright regal in a triton.

    Out near Surfer's Rock we had a close encounter with a large male Ember Parrotfish.  These guys are understandably stand-offish.  When a spear fisherman says he had uhu for dinner, this is probably what he meant.  Ember parrotfish (until rather recently we called them red lipped parrotfish) are perhaps the best tasting of reef fish, surpassing even menpachi, which we know as epaulet soldierfish.  With all this in mind, it was an honor to have this bold fellow pose for a couple pictures.

  Shortly after bidding the parrotfish adieu, I came upon the front portion of a large slipper lobster.  As

Iridescent Fireworms

I dove down to move it to a location more suitable for photography, I found that it was home to a pair of iridescent fireworms, who I assume were dining on the remnants of the lobster.  These worms, who look remarkably like sea going centipedes, did not particularly want to be photographed, scuttling away before I could get a decent picture.  We don't see them very often, so it was a treat in spite of their lack of cooperation.  The  photo of the dorsum of the lobster carapace is dramatically better than the one with the fleeing bristleworms, but they are both interesting.

    Finally (I believe I can hear you say, "Its about time.")  we come to yesterday, where we find our heroes descending the winding, narrow, treacherous road  leading to that hot bed of dengue fever, Ho'okena.  Hard as it is to believe, given the drought that has persisted for more than three months, we are just a few weeks removed from the last reported case of dengue fever on the leeward side of the Big Island, and it is my suspicion the Ho'okena Beach Park remained closed until quite recently. One has to remember, that those Aedes aegypti mosquitoes were probably not relying on fresh rain to supply a breeding ground.  Rather, they were reproducing in residual rain being stored in cisterns such as those the residents of the few dwellings at Ho'okena employ.  One doesn't know if all the A. aegypti mosquitoes have died off.  I feel it is more likely that they were finally denied a fresh human dengue fever carrier for epidemic (read blood sucking) purposes.  Keeping in mind that this is the very same mosquito that spreads the newest international scourge, the Zika virus, I suspect that the Big Island,

Tiger Cowrie,  C. tigris  Ho'okena 2016

especially our favorite beach park, is primed for something dramatically worse than dengue fever.  If one can believe the maps shown on the evening news, A. aegypti lives as far north as San Francisco, so perhaps it is unfair of me to single out the cistern-using residents of Paradise, Ho'okena and Milolii as international criminals.  But to many of us, its pretty clear who is responsible for the prolonged dengue fever epidemic.    

     I moseyed over to the small shelter and occupied a view seat at the makai picnic table.  At the other end was a pleasant young lady from Portland, who was camping.  That she was a camper but better turned out than your author was only mildly embarrassing...I'm used to it.  Sadly, she was just too normal for an amusing blog interview.  While she prepared a papaya,  Sandra and I changed into

our swim wear.  In the process, I noticed that the county has added two camping spots mauka of the

Yellow Tail Coris, transitional adolescent

parking area, thus separate from the beach front sites.  These two sites were occupied while a couple beach front sites remained vacant.  There was no obvious explanation why these people did not choose to camp on the sand. 

     Upland campers aside, we were soon in the water, which was crystal clear.   Swimming along the reef near shore we saw many red labrid wrasses, including one that was transitional to the adult yellowtail coris.  These are always fun and I am threatening to paint one with red and white stripes anteriorly , the posterior will be blue with white stars.  The Patriotic Wrasse!  Good luck finding one on the Fourth of July!

    On a coral nearby I spotted one of the largest cowries I have ever seen.  As you can see, this big boy was nestled into a crevice.  Almost as big as one of those delicious navel oranges that they sell at Costco, he was a tiger cowrie.  According to the Hoover critter book, this cowrie grows larger in Hawaii than anywhere

Plectoglyphodon johnstonianus, the Blue eye Damselfish 2016

else.   I haven't seen this species recently, possibly it was a life cowrie.

    Swimming out to deeper water, we saw a gilded triggerfish.  Despite looking carefully at every congregation of coral, we did not see any angelfish.  Finally we ended up where the reef grows off the end of the old boat landing.  Here the waves sweep in and out; its a perfect place for fish that like a shallow, surging habitat. I had seen some adolescent Blue eye damsels in shore, but here I found one that was willing to hold still and I got a pretty good picture of  this shy yellow fish.

     Looking among some dying coral in a area where the waves were really sweeping through,  I saw a small wrasse that initially reminded me of an ornate in exactly the wrong spot.  In a moment I realized that it was a small five stripe wrasse.  The fish with the fancy face is never large and this one was smaller than most, four

Five Stripe Wrasse, Ho'okena, April 2016

inches at most.  True to character, he swam fast, darting among the crevices in the coral as the surf passed over us.  After taking a few pictures, I was lucky to find him again and show him to Sandra.  Checking my records, I find that I have not seen this fish since January, 2014.

    Ho'okena remains an excellent place to snorkel.  If you can pick a calm day, it provides an easy, sandy entry with superb fish watching.  Just watch out for the skeeters.

    A special thanks to the U.S. Coast Guard and the brave men of Cutter Escanaba.

Ho'okena Pier April 2016   Sandra Gray