A Rough Patch on the Kona Coast

      Right off I'll apologize for not blogging more recently.  As you will see, there have been a variety of events that threw me off my pace.  But at the end of the day, or the blog, for that matter, there is no excuse.

The Great God Ku and the Lovely Hina.  A Shot from the past

May the Great god Ku strike me down.

    A few weeks ago Sandra and I decided that we would go up to the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel.  The rough surf conditions were already in full swing.  This rough winter surf, which as truly now lasted uninterrupted for a month, are fueled by storms somewhere out in the Pacific.  In that month, we have had a couple days of strong wind and two or three evenings when it rained, but by and large the weather this winter has been superb...relatively cool, dry days with a fleecy cloud or two.  One has to assume that elsewhere in the Pacific there have been persistent strong winds blowing over the ocean, accounting for the high surf upon the shores of these very Sandwich Islands.

    On the day in question I checked the wave predictor and it suggested that though there was high surf everywhere else, that small bight that includes the Mauana Kea, Kawaihae and Mahukona, had clement

Oh Perfidious Crystal Ball!

water conditions.  A sample chart is included here, showing what the conditions will be in 24 hours.  You will see the dark royal blue in the northwest of the Big Island, indicating very small waves, and it was on just such a chart that we staked our expedition. 

    We left early and got to the Mauna Kea before 8:30.  It was a beautiful, cool morning and as we drove through the golf course on the way to the beach, we admired the surf pounding against the rocks.  After parking, we walked through the hotel, which is beautiful, virtually unchanged over these many years. And from the balcony outside reception, we admired the beach and the lines of breakers marching across the bay. Suffice it to say, the wave predictor had led us astray.

   Never the less, we schlepped our stuff down the access road, admiring the red warning flag at the entrance to  the beach.  We spread a mat on the grass in the shade, enjoyed breakfast al fresco and discussed the wisdom of swimming.  Sandra wisely decided to stay on the grass mat in the shade while I took my kit to the

The Mauna Kea Beach on that Fateful Morning

north end of the beach.  At that end, protected by the lava cusp, there was less wave action.  It was no problem to get in the water and snorkel out.

    When I was about forty yards out I, I made a couple dives down to the reef, actually seeing a few fish despite the extremely cloudy water.  But I noticed that there was a current taking me out into the breakers, so I started heading in.  Sadly, the current was also taking me south.  By the time I got to where I could stand, about twenty yards from shore, I was looking at the middle of the beach, nowhere near where I had entered,  For whatever reason, I was holding my fins, perhaps preparing to walk ashore, when a large wave caught me from behind.  The wave ripped away my mask, snorkel and swim cap, plunging them into the sandy soup.  Waves being such as they are, two more followed in close order.

Losin' yer snorkel is worse than bustin' up the truck.

    By the time the set had played itself out, my equipment was long gone.  There was nothing left to do but use my fins for an ersatz boogie board and surf into the beach.  And so I found Sandra, who had made
friends with a young business woman, originally form Calgary, now living in Frankfurt with her German businessman husband, and their Canadian / Allemand kinder.  I distracted myself by kicking the young fellow a few balls, while Sandra said her goodbyes and we could politely slink home.  

   And there you have my first excuse for the interruption in  blogs.  Shame of the caliber found usually only in a country western song.

    Three days after losing my equipment, I purchased a new mask.  The one I lost was possibly fifteen years old and was growing algae in the space around the lenses, so I suppose getting a new mask wasn't out of the question.  A few days later the conditions were calm enough for me to give it a try down at the pier, and then the surf came up again, shutting us out of the ocean.

James and Your Humble Correspondent at the Pier

    Ten days ago, Sandra became sick, really sick.  And being the loving husband, I became sick three days later.  We languished in bed, sleeping the days away, for a week.   During this time of illness, the surf
hammered in day after day.  Luckily, we recovered in time to pick our son , James, up from the airport two days ago.

    I had noticed, the day before James arrived, that although the waves were huge up and down the beach,  they were not breaking on Paul Allen's Reef, so on the way in from the airport, we stopped at the pier.  I was really happy to see that the water was fairly clear and flat.  Right by the pier was  a school of Polynesian halfbeaks, a new fish for the 2017 list. We walked over the pier and James took a couple selfies of the two of us, with the heiau and the King Kam Hotel for a Hawaiian backdrop. .  You can see it was a beautiful afternoon.

Reticulated Butterflyfish Pair

   The next day was my birthday.  How lucky to have my son visiting, to be recovering finally from our illness and to be able to go snorkeling.  A birthday gift from the gods, to be sure. 

   Sandra dropped us off at the pier and then motored up the hill to procure the birthday dinner.  James and I had a wonderful swim, the highlight of which was a pair of reticulated butterflyfish way out in front of the palace.  Diving down, we both got a look at them raising their dorsal fin to
display the spiny fringe.  Considering that the water was cloudy, the picture came out nicely.  And they seem to have found the last piece of cauliflower coral in the bay.

     Yesterday morning, Sandra noticed that the waves were diminished, and so the three of us made our way to Kahalu'u.   At K Bay, it was Snorkel Day, the day when those who care about the disabled roll a mat out into the water and attempt to take them snorkeling.  The volunteer care givers, many of whom are young women who, consistent with their ilk, are most interested in talking and preening.  There were a few of the disabled, occasionally giving a young thing a high five or a hug,  And very rarely they would come together and get in the water.

The Ornate Mating Dance

    If one had been permitted, he might have altered the conditions for snorkel day.  The waves were crashing on the far side of the breakwater, and small wavelets marched across K Bay.  And sure enough, when the
three of us got going, there was a substantial current.  Almost immediately, we saw a snowflake moray and a bit further along, where the current was really ripping, James saw a pair of saddle back butterflyfish.  When he pointed them out to me, they were about fifteen feet away and, though I swam as hard as I could, I could get no closer.

     The rest of the swim was punctuated by strong currents, multiple flailing encounters with our fellow enthusiasts, and a couple good looks at the usual suspects.  Toward the end of this ordeal, we enjoyed a pair of ormate butterflyfish swimming around and around each other, perhaps in some ornate mating ritual.  It was quite enchanting and I hope you enjoy this one last picture.

jeff

A Big Mahalo to Donna and Ross for the perfect birthday card.