What's New At Mahukona.

   Yesterday we were lucky enough to go snorkeling with our friends Peter and Marla at Mahukona.   Living in the vicinity of Hawi, this is their home court for snorkeling, so their observations and skill were much appreciated.  The wave and tide predictors did their job correctly this time and the water was flat.  As is often the case at this spot six miles from the northern tip of the island,

Mahukona with Colorful Floats

there was a strong breeze, blowing about 15 knots from the northeast.

    There were some fleecy clouds and the sun shone down gloriously on the little cove.  A sense of holiday was provided by a couple of colorful floating toys on the far side of the water.  It wasn't at all clear to me why they didn't blow out to sea.  If the wind held true they might make Oaxaca by supper time.  I suppose they were anchored.

   We noted a significant encampment on the bluff at the head of the cove.  The area devoted to this semi-permanent camp was closed off by a locked gate, so even if one wanted to explore the situation, make friends with the natives, as it were, this was clearly discouraged.  A puzzling 
aspect of this beach park is the inordinate number of flies, which are a bit of a plague despite the prevailing
wind.  My current thought is that the flies are blown over from the camp, which might be a pretty good

Blacklip Butterfly is not currently at Mahukona

reason not to visit, gate or no gate.  Unless, of course, you really like flies.

   My last word on the campers and their flies, is in the spirit of Walter Sobchak from the Big Lebowski (that rug really tied the room together); the campers really tie the fly situation together. It should be noted that those large floatables appeared unoccupied and I speculated that the campers were imposing their will upon the cove and its hau'oli visitors with an, albeit festively colored, modern presence that negatively impacted the natural landscape.  Its possible that if Walter was there he would have put a few rounds in the floatables, thus taking care of the problem and making this prolonged digression moot.


   Anyway, it was a beautiful day, the water was clear and away we swam.  Our hosts had warned us that there had a been a change in the aquafauana over the last year.  When last you visited this bay with your humble correspondent, we shared a close look at Klein's (blacklip) butterflyfish and the fantailed filefish.  Peter had told us us that these two specialties were not there any more.  No matter how hard I searched the

Spectacled Parrot and Indo=Pacific Sergeant, Mahukona 2017

relatively shallow bay where they had been the previous year, I could not refute his admonition.  Que lastima.

   However, this did not mean that there was nothing good to see.  Almost immediately, Peter pointed out a female regal parrotfish.  This is a medium sized reef fish beige on beige and would be really difficult to photograph.  So Sandra and I ticked it off and moved seaward where we enjoyed a big beautiful male spectacled parrotfish.  I regret that my picture does not capture all the beauty of this fish.  In addition to the aqua stripe across the nose, that to some looks like a pair of  spectacles, this big boy had a rosy flank.  Hoover shows the spectacled parrot as just greens and blues, so this really was a very colorful fish. We got within fifteen feet and our look was a lot better than my picture might suggest.  It was really exciting.

    You might just note that included in the picture is an Indo-Pacific sergeant.  I used to see this fish at Kona

Five Stripe Wrasse juv. Mahukona 2017  Easily Overlooked

Maaki, but as we rarely swim that difficult entry, I am not sure that it is still there.  At any rate, it was another fish for the 2017 list.  

   When we reconnoitered with our host, Peter asked if we needed five stripe wrasse.  You will recall this is a very uncommon fish of the shallow, wave washed reef.  He took us a bit further north and, indeed, over the shallow lava carpeted with a bit of dying coral, we were treated to several juvenile five stripes.  We agreed that these were hardly as colorful as adult males.  In my pictures, they mostly look black.  When the sun hit these little trouts just right, one got the impression of a blue flank and pink and aqua lines on the face.  There were no males that we could find.  So subtle were these initial phase fish, that I have to compliment Peter's keen observational skills; they might easily have been overlooked.

Compare with a Five Stripe Wrasse on the PAR Jan. 2014.  Big difference!

  After enjoying the five stripes, Peter suggested that we swim across the bay to the south shore.  We traversed a nice, deep portion of the reef with good visibility down to what I would guess was 40 feet.  I was hoping for an angelfish, maybe some garden eels in the sand parts, but we saw nothing new.  On that far shore, however, I spotted a female Hawaiian Hogfish.  Although we see an immature hogfish almost every summer, this was the first adult I had seen in several years. She was a beauty and allowed me to get within

Hawaiian Hogfish  female 2017 Mahukona

fifteen feet or so.  These are clearly the best pictures of the day.

    For those of you eager to add this uncommon fish to your list, Marla said that it is not unusual to see a female Hawaiian hogfish at Mahukona.   

   Happily, we were invited to lunch.  As we followed Peter and Marla up through Hawi, I tabulated five fish that I would add to the list for 2017; not to mention one fine invertebrate, the cushion starfish. Our hosts live in Kapa'au, a few miles past the King Kamehmeha statue.   Sandra noted, as we made the turn off the main road, that if you drove just a few miles further you would achieve the spot where, were you not paying close attention, you might plunge off the edge of the earth.

    As it turns out,our hosts live on a charmingly bucolic estate full of swaying palms, fruit trees of every ilk and cooling trade winds.  Marla has planted lovely flowers around the yard... it really is a piece of heaven.  While Marla puttered about the kitchen, preparing a Mexican lunch featuring guacamole and ceviche, Peter hauled out a volume related to their work in Samoa.  (You will recall that our hosts are real scientists who actually get paid to

King Kamehameha welcomes you to Kapa'au

travel to Samoa and assess the ecology.)  In the preface to Peter's book was a map of the Pacific, with contour lines showing the decrease in fish diversity from the epicenter somewhere north of western Australia.  Approaching a map like a scientist, he taught me a new word: Isopleth.  An isopleth, as it turns out, is any line that denotes a change in a specified parameter.  Those contour lines on a topographical map and the isobars on a weather map are examples of isopleths,  I suggest you file this word away, pulling it out to defeat your competitors the next time you play scrabble.

     I am including a similar map purloined from Mr. Google which is not exactly like Peter's, but gives you a rough idea. The isopleths were drawn differently on Peter's map and it is to those that I will refer.

   I love maps and this one really caught my attention.  Bali, where we have enjoyed such marvelous fish watching, is inside the isopleth denoting the greatest degree of fish diversity.  So is the southern portion of the Phillipines, where one might choose to go snorkeling if he doesn't mind being kidnapped.  However, the Great Barrier Reef and most of Thailand are not in within this prime isopleth.  Samoa, where Peter and Marla go twice a year, is outside yet

Fish diversity in the Pacific.  Not exactly isopleths.

another.  And so is Fiji.  It is no surprise that the Hawaiian archipelago, being vastly separated from the rest of the islands in the tropical Pacific, gets its only little isopleth

   We had a delicious lunch and lots of fine conversation.  By mid-afternoon, Marla had loaded us down with fruits from her trees and we were on our way back to Kailua.  As we drove, my sweetie told me that she had a sore throat and she was sure she was getting sick.

   Ignoring all the victims, including yours truly, who would be exposed to Typhiod Sandra, my warped mind transformed this information into a new travel tool. The next time you have a whopping good case of bronchitis, not so uncommon these days in these very Sandwich Islands, expectorate on a map roughly corresponding to your chosen vacation destination.  The outline of this glob then becomes your isophlegm  and there in should you expose yourself to the wonders of the world, not to mention the infectious diseases that it has to offer. 

Ca. sandraii.  Greetings from the penultimate Isophlegm!

I present this method in lieu of tacking a map to the side of your barn and throwing darts, although that may be equally effective, not to mention less provocative from an epidemiological point of view.

   Well, sure enough Sandra is sick and I'm probably next.  We hope our dear friends in Kapa'au are in the pink of heath and that there are lots of good adventures in their future.  And your future, as well

jeff 

Hawaiian Hogfish, Mahukona July 2017