Kahalu'u Gold on Kathy's Last Day. Hawaii Snorkeling at its best!

      Earlier this week we bid a fond adieu to our friends from the PNW.  But before the goodbyes, there was one more morning to look at fish.

Diodon hystrix, Kahalu'u December 2025

  For her aloha snorkel, our friend Kathy chose a morning swim at Kahalu'u.  The snorkeling conditions had been great all week; despite it being high tide, with the Menehune Breakwater all but submerged. there was little wave action in the bay.  Things were looking good. 

     The day before, Wendy had decided that she had had enough of hanging around picnic tables waiting for her man to return from the sea.  She never would have made it as the wife of a Nantucket whaling captain  (I'm sure there's a good limerick in there somewhere.)  So, it was going to be up to Sandra and Vernon to hold down the fort while Kathy and I explored for fish.

   Before that could happen, there was business ashore.  First, we gave Yasuko her Christmas present, a Pink tail Triggerfish ornament for her tree.  Domo arigato Mr. Fish-mato.  

Another look at the Barred Spiny Puffer

   And then I spied these two young ladies freshly emerged from the early morning sea.  I asked them about the conditions (always a good ice breaker) and they replied that it was too bumpy.  Then I asked where they were from.  "Saskatchewan." they replied.  

    "Saskatoon?" I asked.  "Regina." they replied.  It was all I could do to keep from referencing one of Jerry Seinfeld's best episodes.  the one where he can't remember his new love interest's name, but it rhymes with a lady's body part.  Heard to believe I have that much discretion...right?  

     Following this I had an interesting conversation with their dad, who appeared much younger that I expected.  Which caused me to suspect that the young lovelies, despite plenty of well-proportioned avoir du pois, were younger, as well.  Anyway, I recalled every Canadian who I had ever encountered in Hawaii, and he told me they were going back in two days.   Apparently, you don't fly direct to Regina (or any other city in Cananda that rhymes with a female body part).  So he had arranged to fly direct back to Calgary (which rhymes with that organization that got George Custer, et al. in a bit of trouble) and from there the foursome was going to drive back to Regina.  And that night it was going to snow 20 cm in Calgary.  Don't you love the metric system?  That's nuef pouces de neige if you live in Montral and don't like the metric system.  Apparently if you reside in the frozen north, you think nothing of driving nine hours in the dark, in the snow, if it is part of the going to Hawaii deal.  Aloha snowy loa!

Ringtail Wrasse dead ahead,  Kahalu'u 12/24

    Well, about that time our friends arrived and soon Ekaterina and yours truly were sliding over the rocks into the bay.  Almost immediately we saw a great fish.  Attempting to hide in the lee of a chunk of deceased coral was a chunky puffer fish.  Diodon hysrix, the barred spiny puffer.  It has been a while since I have seen this fish in these Very Sandwich Islands, but I did see it Bali within recent memory. Memory in this instance is aided by my voluminous lists and so I can tell you for certain that we saw D. hystrix in Pemuteran in December of 2009.  Just looking at those Bali lists, which run for six pages is enough to get the old fishwatchin' blood running.  

    This guy was only about four feet down.  In addition to the spines, he had a number of small white stringy things connected to his skin round his head.  These show up in my unfortunately less than perfect pictures.  John Hoover tells us these are short barbels, sensory organs.  Pretty cool, if I do say so myself.

Intermediate YTC Kahalu'u 12/24

    A bit further on we chased a blue stripe snapper, and I tried to coax a Cone shell Hermit Crab from his shell (with no success) and we were beginning to wonder if the puffer was going to be it for the day.  But as we headed up the gut all hell broke loose.  First we saw a Ringtail Wrasse.  He stayed about ten feet ahead of us affording some photographic attempts.   

   Off to the left an intermediate Yellowtail Coris appeared.  I don't see one of these fascinating intermediates very often.  Heaven knows, the adult male and female are common almost everywhere and the babies, the Red Labrid Wrasse is common enough.  So, one must conclude that the red labrid passes through the intermediate form fairly quickly.  This fellow was about three and a half to four inches long (9 cm).  I saw a small YTC of the same size in completed adult coloration as I chased this guy around trying for a good shot.  I'm including my inadequate picture, and this is what you should look for:  He had a yellow tail.  He was basically red with white tapered bands, but the trailing third of the fish was blue with a constellation of white spots surrounding the last two tapered white bands.  All in all, a hell of a fish.

Kathy, Kent and your humble correspondent at Kahalu'u.

    Aas I was chasing him around I spied a tiny Dragon Wrasse.  He was light colored, brownish green with mottled off white.  He was about an inch in length.  As our hero, John Lennon, would put it, "Gotta be good lookin' cause he's so hard to see."  

    This was the super good stuff.  Out on the flats we got a very good look at a colorful adult Christmas Wrasse.   It was a great Aloha Snorkel for Kathy, and me, too.   We are rapidly approaching the day on which we will hunt for the Christmas Wrasse in all seriousness.  In the meantime, we can shop 'til we drop, concentrate on healing up our feet and whistle Mele Kailiki Maka as we recline in the shade with an ice tea.

Aloha, jeff

A Ho'okena Update

     A couple days ago we joined our friends at Ho'okena for some snorkeling.  Sandra and I arrived around 8 AM.   We nabbed a picnic table with a killer view of the bay.   Having arrived half an hour early (it took only 45 minutes to drive down from Kailua) we had a chance to talk with a pleasant fellow who seemed to get down to our favorite beach with some frequency.

Spinner Dolphin, Ho'okena 2018

    There were dolphins swimming in the bay, and I, of course, was curious to know if he knew what the new regulations were, vis a vis swimming with the dolphins, and how they were enforced.  He said that last June and July, so two months after the regulations went into effect, there were federal officers at Ho'okena giving people tickets.  That had not been the case recently, and he occasionally swam near the dolphins and let them swim to him.  If I was talking to a complete stranger, I suppose I would say something of the sort.

   Kathy and her group arrived at 8:30, securing the last spot in the parking lot.   Soon the four swimmers were headed down to the south end of the beach.  Before we could enter the water, Kent and I had to attend to our injured feet.  I applied a Band-Aid and he put on socks, then flipper walked into the remarkably clam bay. 

Dolphin Pair Ho'okena 2020

It was a five minute swim out to the dolphins.  We had seen other swimmers with them for half an hour and there were two paddle boarderss, as well.   

   We got within five yards of the dolphins.  This was clearly the tail end of their morning frolic at Ho'okena, so I guess we were lucky to catch the last of the act.  Kent was especially happy to have seen the dolphins in the wild.  Five feet is a better distance for superior dolphin pictures so I'm including one or two taken at Ho'okena in days past.

     We had seen some good coral growing 30 feet down as we swam out to the dolphin pond.  Now as we swam back across the bay, we saw lots of coral, but no unusual fish.   As we swam along my bandaid gave up the ghost.  Luckily Kent was trailing behind and he nabbed it as he swam.  

    We checked out the pier and then Sandra left us for the beach.  I ushered Kathy and Kent to the coral where we have seen angelfish in the past.  A bit of patience yielded a pair of Potter's angelfish, but no amount of waiting produced a flame.  Bummer.

Potter's Angelfish, Ho'okena, 2016

    On our first circuit we had not seen Gilded Triggerfish.  As I have done in the past, I swam just an additional ten yards seaward from the angelfish coral and we found several Gilded Triggerfish,..handsome yellow fin margins and blue faces.  Delightful.

    The really good news is that Sandra completed this swim without a jaw problem.  

   We had one more adventure with Kathy which will appear in the next installment.

jeff

Snorkleling With Kathy Part Deux...The Amazing Octopus

         This week we are enjoying a visit with Kathy and her entourage from Oregon   They visited us five years ago and have come close to returning several times.  Covid and other factors always prevented their return.  But Hurray!  They finally made it.  And today we met at Kahalu'u for a reunion snorkel outing,

A sole milletseed hangs on at Kahalu'u

      Kathy and her entourage beat us to the Beach Park and by the time we arrived, she had already made friends with Yasuko.  Yasuko is an Osaka girl which just happens to be the village where Kathy's son lives, and is happily married, working a sensei teaching English.  Truly a small world experience, involving a monster of a metropolis (Kyoto-Osaka.)

     The spice (which the blog lexicographer assures me is the preferred plural for spouses) hung out in the shelter while Kathy, Kent and yours truly were swimming in the bay.  We had scored a day with extremely low surf; the bay was cool, clear and calm.  Immediately on entering, I was able to show Kathy our resident Pearl Wrasse.  Kent missed it because he was ogling a trio of smaller Green Sea Turtles.  He got some great pictures,  and we are hoping he figures out a way to get them out of Kathy's camera and into my computer.) 

The Day Octopus hangs above the coral

     We enjoyed a nice look at a Milletseed Butterfly, and a miter, which I delicately extricated from the sand without harming the snail living inside this long, tapered shell.  We then headed out, still pretty close to the entry.  Suddenly Kathy pointed ahead, where only twenty feet away a medium sized octopus was suspended above the coral.  His legs dangled down below his drooping proboscis.  It was a remarkable look, and as we kept our distance, he remained suspended in the water.  

    Usually, we see octopus sitting on the coral, or more likely, scooting under the coral.  Sometimes we see them scooting rapidly from one spot to another.  Rarely do we see them suspended in mid-water.  But this guy was suspended above the coral, much like that apparition that rises from the tub in the Wizard of Id.  I guess you have to be old enough to remember that wry comic ghost.  As it turns out, the octopus has a swim bladder, similar to that in fish.  Another instance where highly unrelated species, a bony vertebrate and a mollusk, have evolved essentially the same organ to conquer the same problem...buoyancy.  The swim bladder is filled with gas which allows the fish or octopus to adjust his level in the water.

If I wait long enough, I'm sure he'll go away.

     I got the picture you see here.  As is so often my experience, the octopus seems to have defeated the camera.  Looking back, I wonder just how clear a look I got at this amazing animal.  I swam around and got another picture after he receded into the coral, which is more defined.

    We swam the bay, enjoying the usual suspects which included a Stripe Belly Puffer. 

    And that was about it. Everyone survived and we were prepared for another adventure the next day.

    

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The next day involved some extra planning.  We had decided to go to the pier, where everyone, even the less enthusiastic and able swimmers, could have a safe experience.  With this in mind, and the shower facilities closed, Sandra and I arrived early with five gallons of water, so the multitude could wash off after the communal dip.

Spotted Linkia Starfish, Kailua Kona 12/24

   I parked the car and returned and soon Kathy, Vernon, and Kent arrived.  What? No Wendy?  Wendy had opted for a massage in lieu of an ablution.  Not only that, but it was now revealed that Vernon had decided that he was a non-swimmer and was going to hang out elsewhere while the snorkeling occurred.  So, we were down to four snorkelers and a remarkable excess of rinse water.

   As the ability level had risen, we decided to swim on the Paul Allen side.  The water in the Inner Harbour was chilly, but on the way out I saw a pretty Spotted Linkia Starfish clinging to a rock near King Kamehameha's heiau.  This would prove to be the outstanding species for this outing.

   We had a nice swim.  Kathy fell in love with the Four Spot Butterflyfish and Kent found a Crown of Thorns Starfish.  Best of all, Sandra completed her first snorkel in over a year with no jaw pain.  Hijinks will ensue!

Kathy's new favorite: the Fourspot Butterfly

    So we all walked back to where the cars were parked.  I loaned our guests a couple field guides.  And Sandra and I headed back to the pier where we had left our gallons  of fresh water and much of our gear.  Sandra waited in the car while I went to the cubbies and loaded up with fins and bags of equipment.  Two steps later I tripped on a curb.  It a short curb and one might not even know it was there if they didn't trip over it.  People in every direction asked if I was all right.  And I lied, as us serial fall takers are wont to do, and said, sure, I'm fine.

   Of course, I wasn't fine.  Both feet were scuffed up and I had a divot in my right great toe as big as a peanut M&M.  And a bruise on my hip.  Not to mention severely wounded pride. 

   Oh well.  We took the next day off and the adventure will continue with two more exciting outings.

Jeff

Kahalu'u...the New Octopus Hotspot

    Two days ago the surf came down.  The Kona Coast had been the recipient of great surfing conditions for over a week.  I had tried snorkeling at the pier a couple days earlier and the visibility was two to four feet.  Sometimes it felt like I was snorkeling through a sandbox.

Cat Lady Minus Her Snorkel.

     So, when the breakers went away, we hopped in the car and got to Kahalu'u wiki wiki.  As I sat on a rock, I was joined in the shallows by a pleasant young lady wearing a white neoprene hat with little pointy ears.  Was she the cat snorkeler?  We discussed the water temperature, which was on the cool side, and wave conditions, which were acceptable.  I shoved off and I assumed she was right behind me.

     The water warmed as I made my way out of the shallow, rocky inlet that is our K Bay entrance.  The water was clear, but there was enough current to guarantee that I would keep swimming or head immediately in the wrong direction.  About five minutes into the swim I was tapped on the shoulder.  It was the Cat Lady and she said in a sweet voice, almost reverential, " Octopus".  She then proceeded to point.  It seems her octopus had sequestered himself under a rock and I didn't see him.  but I have no doubt that she did.  Coupled with the small octopus I saw a week or so ago, this boded well for the Day Octopus in Kahalu'u.

Day Octopus, Kahalu'u 12/24

    The Cat Lady and I snorkeled on towards the breakwater without seeing anything noteworthy and so I turned and headed out into the middle of the bay.  There, I encountered two older ladies, possible even older than myself.  (Is that possible?)  In spite of being of a certain age, neither was wearing fins.  So, despite everything, they must be much stronger swimmers than I am.  I was attempting to take a picture of a white mouth moray when one of the ladies tapped me on the shoulder.  And she said, "Octopus." 

   It took a moment for them to position me correctly...there was plenty of current and more than a touch of slosh.  But once I got around to the seaside of a large dying coral, I was treated to a fine large octopus.  This guy was changing colors and had thrown up a shaggy appearance, so he resembled a bear skin cap.  He was the size of the air bladder on a bagpipe, so I think we should call him Angus. 

   Regardless of the difficult conditions, I was able to get the picture you see here.  Not terrible, everything considered.

Devil Scorpionfish, Kahalu'u  12/24

    I was about to swim away when one of the ladies surfaced and said, "Is that a scorpionfish?"   Either these ladies were lucky, or they are very good, because they were easily able to direct me to a fine Devil Scorpionfish who had positioned himself on a rock.  I was able to dive down and get this mug shot.

   I left them to their treasures and head in.  Over by the rescue kiosk I found a baby Lagoon Triggerfish, perhaps three inches long.  Is there a Hawaiian word for toddler?  I chased him around for five minutes and never got a very good photo.  But it was a nice end to the snorkeling trip.  

  

    It appears this is a good time at Kahalu'u for octopuses and I hope you have a chance to get down there for a look before the surf comes up.  After all, it is winter in Hawaii.

jeff

   

   

   

    

Bigeyes on the Big Island

    Yesterday I got dropped off for snorkeling at the Kailua Pier.  In an attempt to improve my list, I wandered around the closed restroom and shower area to the beach in front of the King Kamehameha Hotel.  This shuttering of the facilities has made a huge difference in the number of people at these beaches and at 9 AM I had the strand of soft white sand almost to myself.  

Hawaiian Bigeye, Kailua Kona 11/24

    The water was extremely calm and there wasn't even a breeze.  As I stepped in, I was reminded of the downside of this entry...the water was frigid!  As I swam out it got a little warmer but by then I was already shivering.  

   I had seen nothing of note in the Inner Harbour but just outside the rip rap I saw a tomato red bigeye only six feet down.  I turned to discover that there were two of them.  They receded a little, but basically stayed where I could see them.  In spite of their cooperation, I took a handful of poor pictures, Mea culpa.  You see the best of the lot here as I hang my head in shame.

   Regardless, the pictures are good enough to make an identification of Hawaiian Bigeye.  As there were two fish, that makes a total of four big eyes.  Surprisingly, these fish are not as nocturnal as those big eyes suggest.  However, they are far from common in my experience.  Without consulting my records I'll bet that this is around my tenth sighting of a bigeye in oh so many years.  And it makes for a remarkable sighting on three successive outings around the pier.  

Hawaiian Bigeye in the Rip Rap, 11/24

    The incentive for swimming on the Paul Allen side was to add new species to the list and I was pleased in the middle of the small bay to see a Goldrim Surgeon.  This fish is related to the Achilles Tang.  Not so long ago we saw many Achilles Tang and occasionally a Goldrim Surgeon.  Now one sees notices in place like Honokohau Harbor stating that it is illegal to take Achilles Tang as they have become severely endangered.  Bummer, dude!

    In this instance, though, as I was trying without success to take a picture of the goldrim I saw an Achilles Tang among the coral rubble on the bottom, about twenty-five feet down.  Despite it being far away, the water was clear, and I got a very good look at this iconic fish that is struggling to survive.  

    Goldrims and Achilles hybridize.  In fact, ever so long ago when we swam regularly at Kona Makai (and saw lots of Achilles Tang) I got a picture of one of those hybrids.  In this case I looked carefully, and this was the purebred Achiles Tang.   Not some chihaucapoo of a fish. 

Achilles Tang, Kailua Kona, 2020

     A bit further out in the bay I encountered a gazillion Pearl Soldierfish.  This species is most commonly known around Kona as menpachi .  If you are a fish with the goal of staying away from the dinner plate, it is best if you are not known by a Japanese name.   Hence, Mypristes kuntee is relatively uncommon in unprotected areas.  It is putatively delicious and therefore likely to end up on the business end of a spear.  C'est domage! 

    I've seen a few from time to time on the Paul Allen side, but this was in excess of two dozen.   Let's keep these guys a secret from the spear fishermen,

    All in all, we added nine species to the list on this outing.

          🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑   🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑   🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑    🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑🦑

     Today I went swimming at Kahalu'u.  I was able to share my pictures with Yasuko and Kathleen Clark. Kathleen is the manager of the Reef Teachers and keeps track of the bay; she does regular surveys of the fish and keeps records of the pH, etc. in the bay.

     As before, the fish watching was mediocre.  I added one fish, the Bluespine Unicorn, to the list.  As I swim, I'm continually on the lookout for invertebrates.  On the way out I saw an octopus slither into a lava crevice.  I waited for him to emerge to no avail, so I dove down and took a flash picture of the octopus hiding in his den.  It's a ridiculous picture of flash reflected off suspended particles.  An unacceptable amount of imagination is required to find the cephalopod in the picture.

Hidden Hermit Crab, Ca. latens, Kahalu'u 11/24

    Later in my swim I found a small hermit crab hanging on to a piece of dead coral.  I got three quick pictures from about ten inches away from the crab, allowing the TG 5 to do the heavy lifting, focusing and adjusting the flash for distance.  (These smart cameras have changed underwater macro-photography dramatically!)   

    One of the pictures was in pretty good focus.  You can see the constellation of stars on the wrist of the cheliped, the grayish green eye stalks, the orange antennae and, most importantly, the purplish band near the tips of the walking legs.  It's a Hidden Hermit Crab, Ca, Latens.  Our first hermit identified this season.  

   This fellow brings to mind the folks that taught Sandra and I about hermits, taking us under their carapace, if you will:   Patsy McLaughlin (RIP) and Joseph Poupin, who is still working with hermits at the Ecole Navale in Nantes.   

    With luck there will be more hermits in our future, and I hope in yours, as well.

Jeff  

   

Bandtail Goatfish!

     Yesterday was another cool morning at Casa Ono.  At 7 AM, as I usually do, I sallied forth for an hour or so in the garden.  This morning, however, I went out like a crusader to battle with the ancient enemy.  In this instance, I was not going after the minions of Saladin, but the morning glory vine that
grows to the tops of the ornamental fig trees that create our border. 

Saladin, the scourge of the Crusaders,

 The problem is, we can see the vines in the treetops, more than twenty feet above the ground.  Up there, the leaves, flowers and seed pods create a messy distraction.  But at ground level the vines bear no leaves and, despite a substantial growth in the treetops, the vine itself may not be all that large.  Couple this with twenty feet of tangled monstera leaves and trunks that stand between the crusader and the fig trees and you have a problem.

    Unfazed, I entered the monstera, working towards the figs.  Eight feet in I met my match, falling backwards into the monstera.  I landed softly with those large leaves to cushion my ungainly bulk, but my head was down slope and I was stuck.  For a while I flapped around on my back like an overturned turtle.   In a word: pathetic.   Sandra came down as I extricated myself, but that was all the vine hunting we were going to do that morning.   I cut away the damaged monstera and hauled up a dozen or so monstrous leaves.    And then it was time for some hydrotherapy.

Bandtail Goatfish  Kailua Kona 11/ 24

   As we disembarked at the pier I noted that there were a bunch of children playing in the water.   Wading in with my fins and mask, I was passed by a child who approached an attractive young lady in a form fitting yellow rash guard.  He needed an equipment adjustment and as he swam away I asked the lady if she was in charge of all these kids.  "Just the little ones." she replied.  We agreed it was like wrangling cats, but she had it under control.

   As soon as I put my face in the water I was rewarded.  To my left was a small flounder and to my right, over the sand, was a pair of Bandtail Goatfish.  These are not your everyday goatfishes.  I have seen them at least once in Hawaii, in that very spot and once in Fiji about 35 years ago.  Sandra and I were with Peter when he saw them (or so he said) over the sand by the LST landing at Kawaihae Harbor.  So in roughly 40 years of fish watching I have two or three sightings and one near miss.  This is an uncommon species!  

Bandtail Goatfish, U. arge,  weke pueo  11/24

     As you might have gathered, these fish are found over sand, often in the shallows, and they are pan-Pacific in distribution.  As I watched this pair they joined a single Yellowstripe Goatfish to dabble together in the sand, as goatfish are wont to do.

    What proceeded after was delightful but not too remarkable.  Way out in front of the palace, looking down at the coral, I saw a number of Argus Groupers hiding in crevices.   Last spring I had expressed some concern for this introduced species (and got some blowback for worrying about a species that might be deemed an undesirable exotic.)  Anyway, they are handsome and currently plentiful in Kailua Bay.

    I also got a quick look at a Spotfin Squirrelfish as it dodged out from beneath a large living coral that has withstood the ravages of global warming.  This was a good fish for the list, now well started, but at 67 fish, hopefully in its infancy.  

     Over the next four months we will see a few more squirrelfish and hopefully many others with which to amuse you.  And did you notice?  I overcame my technical incompetence and succeeded in wifi-ing the photos from the Olympus TG 5, to my cell phone and emailing them to the computer where Corel Paint shop permits me to tweak them for our mutual delight.  And so, I can finish off this blog with three pictures of the Bigfin Squid taken a week ago.  I hope it was worth the wait.

jeff

    

Bigfin Squid, Kailua Pier 11/24

We don't need no calamari.

Kahalu'u vs the Kailua Kona Pier

    On consecutive days this week I went swimming at Kahalu'u and the pier with dramatically different results.  

   Tuesday morning we made it down to Kahalu'u.   It was a pleasant morning and the tide was high.  Getting in was better than it has been for several years, as sand has filled in a path on the shelter side of the so-called sand channel.  Despite a modest chop, there was fairly little current.  And the water was warm; Yasuko, my sole Japanese friend in the whole world reported it at 82 degrees.  I thought it might have been warmer than that. Kenichi wa!

A keiki Rectangular Triggerfish assures the species survival!

   The good news stopped there.  The water was persistently cloudy throughout the bay.  And the variety of fish was depressing.  The sole good news was cleaner wrasse.  I saw two pairs, and over by the rescue shelter an intermediate, who was morphing from the plain blue lined juvenile to a colorful adult.  She escaped before I could get a picture.  

   And we saw a legion of Rectangular Triggerfish.  Triggerfish seem to be taking the dying coral situation better than some other species.  Wouldn't it be a drag if the state fish became extinct?  No humu humu for youmu youmu!

    The news ashore was better.  Our friend Yasuko was there, telling us about a recent trip to Osaka.  In the Land of the Rising Sun she was shocked by warm weather...80 degrees, in October... just like the water in K Bay.  And there's a new girl, friendly, well spoken, and willing to listen to geriatric snorkelers talk about the good old days.  I showed her my picture of squids and she told me that a few weeks back they had a pair of breeding octopi.  Her name is Haley (like the comet) and perhaps we will see more of her in these pages as the season progresses.

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     The next day we went down to the pier.   Wednesday is cruise ship day and the cruisers were there.  But the showers and changing rooms remain behind danger tape, so there were still very few swimmers and space was plentiful on the cubbies.  

A Teardrop Pair, Kailua Pier 2016

   The water was cool and super clear.  And there were fish!   We added the Oval Butterfly, such a prosaic name for a fish that seems to possess an inner lantern that creates that central golden glow, and Teardrop Butterfly.  

    Additionally I saw a Sandwich Island Filefish.  This species, identified by the white spot on the dorsal portion of the caudal peduncle, used to be common, but has become less so.  And amazingly, unless I am mistaken, I have yet to see the more prosaic Barred Filefish, which should be super common.  

   Finally we added Lagoon Triggerfish.  As beautiful as ever!

    Best of all, out by the penultimate swim buoy, I saw a Leatherback.  This is a very streamlined member of the Jack family that we see only occasionally.  Not as rare as squid, but something one might see only a couple times a year.  As I'm only going to be here for five months, and I don't snorkel as often as I did, this is probably the only one for 2024.  This was a fine specimen, almost two feet long. and he was a fine bronzy silver torpedo.  The hallmark of this sleek fish its cute little dorsal fin the size of your pinkie.  It has a white base and a black tip.  So as this wonderful fish swam by me, not in any great hurry (they never seem to stop when they are on patrol) that little, flag-like dorsal made him unmistakable.

Lagoon Triggerfish, Kailua Pier 2024

   I doubt I will ever get a picture of this fish, as in every instance it is here and gone.  So I'm going to burden you with this picture from the internet.  The fish I saw was bigger and better, less silver and more bronze, but at least this will give you an idea.

   I couldn't swim on the far side of the swim buoys with the tenders shuttling in and out with their shore going cruisers.  I got right up to the line and did not see any squid lurking out there in no man's land.

    Ashore, I was approached by some of the cruisers.  One was a lady from Upstate New York who wondered if it was safe to walk down to the sand.  Being a gentleman, I watched her shoes while she exposed her tootsies to the ocean.  She allowed that, by virtue of signing up for a daily excursion, this might be the only time she got her feet wet on her trip to Hawaii.  

The Leatherjacket

    While I was rinsing off with the bottle of water I had brought with me from home, an older couple stopped me and asked if there was a better beach nearby than the tiny strip where we enter on the Ironman side.  I showed them how they could walk around the visitor center / closed dressing rooms and showers and achieve the lovely beach in front of the King Kam.  And as I finished dressing, I spied them through the web of danger tape, pointing at that lovely strand that apparently the cruise company wants to keep a secret, the better to get people on a bus and away from the water.  

     Its wet, you know...you might melt!

jeff

   

Squid! Or a return to the Sandwich Islands

     About a week ago, perhaps longer, we returned to Kona.  In this time we have been doing a bunch of gardening and home repairs; we have a toilet disassembled in the Ohana waiting for a gasket from Amazon. 

Asian Swallowtail, Kona November 2024

     It's hard to hang out in Hawaii and not see butterflies.  Although we have yet to go for a walk with a net, we have seen the three bigger butterflies, Asian Swallowtail, Gulf Frit and Monarch close up many times.  Initially this was quite a treat as we came from a place where there are no butterflies in November.  One day in our garden a nice Asian Swallowtail and my phone camera came together to create the nice picture you see here.

    Driving around, we have seen lots of small, pale-yellow butterflies, which I presume are sleepies.  And some really small butterflies wihich must be skippers.  Gotta take that walk with the net and some vegetable bags.

    There was lots to do and it wasn't until today that I got off my duff and went snorkeling.   We have been getting high wind weather alerts, but the morning was clear and still.  Sandra dropped me off at the pier, which was uncommonly deserted.  I chose the pier because it is clearly the most forgiving place to swim here in Kona and I hadn't donned a mask and fins in over seven months. 

Finescale Triggerfish, Paul Allen's Reef, 2014

     The water was cool and clear, just like a refreshing beverage, and I was excited to see what was around.  Immediately I saw a small linckia starfish in the sand.  There were a few butterflies and the usual surgeons on the way out.  Finally in the coral past the last swim buoy I spotted a Finescale Triggerfish.  This ghost of a trigger is not exactly rare, but uncommon enough inshore to merit a mention.  

   So as I made the turn for home, I allowed that I had seen some stuff and I was wondering if that little starfish was going to turn into the best invertebrate for the swim.  The Body Glove with a deck full of tourists pulled out and I decided to swim back on the outside of the swim buoys.  

   Near the third swim buoy I got a delightful surprise...three Bigfin Squid hanging out doing whatever they do.    Which is to say, they seem curious enough but you never see them feeding or anything else of a purposeful nature.  Unless you count them keeping an eye on you with those saucer-like peepers and swimming backwards out of spearing range, the better not to make the transition to calamari.  Mostly though, like the Dude, the squid abide.  

Bigfin Squid courtesy of the Monterey Aquarium

  So I imagine you are wondering why I'm showing you a picture of the squid lifted from the internet as opposed to some fantastic pictures taken this morning.  Well, over the last week we have been taking note of the things we didn't bring to Hawaii.  Forgotten in a box back in Vancouver are both sets of our binoculars.  In another box is the disc reader that would permit me to transfer pictures from the water camera to the computer.  Shazbatt!

    Needless to say, I spent ten minutes with these friendly little cephalopods, photographing them from every angle and even taking a small movie that I'm sure you will enjoy in a week or so, when Jeff Bezos sends me a new disc reader.  

Give a squid a beverage and call him Jeffrey Lebowski.

   Two of the trio hung together.  One was slightly larger than the other.  The larger was possibly 14 inches in length, They were opalescent with brown blotches.  The third guy was smaller and more of a rich brown.  And while the duo mostly swam with their tentacle stretched out as in the picture, this guy liked to hold his tentacles down in front of his face.  It made it look like he had a silly brown beard.  

    Supposedly this camera will transmit pictures to a cell phone, but this involves steps like downloading the correct program to deal with the pictures and then a QR code to link it all up somehow.  I spent a couple hours trying to make it work , even enduring a condescending lecture on QR codes from our daughter.  Her parting advice was to find a helpful teenager. 

     It's possible that I deserve this, after all, against my will I have turned into an old fart.  But I can still go swimming and it's just possible that I can replace a toilet gasket.   Stay tuned and I'll let you know on that one in a couple weeks.

jeff

PS.  At the end of my swim I discovered that the showers and changing rooms at the foot of the pier are closed.  There was a rumor of a sewage leak.  This explains why there were so few recreational swimmers!   If you are going for the squid, you might pretend you are headed for  Ho'okena and bring a bottle of water to wash off and a sarong for changing. 

The End of Summer in the Oregon Alps or an Hydaspe Surprise

Bob Hillis sets a high bar.

     It was the first day of the Labor Day Weekend.  The 2024 college football season would kick off in less than 24 hours, and it was a bright blue morning at Timberline Lodge. 

    Butterfly season was winding down.  On our last outing, to Dougan Falls, Sandra and I met a pleasant trio from the State of Washington Department of Ecology (who knew that such an organization even existed?) that were examining the water quality in the upper Washougal.  While it may have been amusing to watch an attractive biologist slip into her hip waders, the butterflying was far from exciting.  

    Our friend, Bob Hillis, had tempted us back into the field with a picture of Milbert's Tortoiseshell, which he encountered recently at 11,000 feet in southern Utah.  If Bob could see Milbert's (possibly my most wanted butterfly) why couldn't we see something good late in the season?  We were hoping for a Red Admiral and expecting, at the least, Lorquin's Admiral.  Instead, we saw a few tiny, orange Woodland Skippers, Que triste! 

    Luckily, hope springs eternal and Sandra and I were delighted to take this late summer jaunt up to Mt. Hood. From our coffee spot in Timberline Lodge, I had taken a quick trip to the car to fine tune our butterflying equipment and when I returned, Sandra had made friends with a couple from New Zealand.   They regaled us with stories of Sirocco, the famous kakapo.  Kākāpō are giant flightless parrots of renowned skill, sometimes referred to as owl faced parrots.  In the wild they are nocturnal. Sirocco was raised by hand and is virtually the national mascot.  Apparently he is easy to see, but his wild brethren have been much reduced in numbers and are, as previously stated, nocturnal.  So good luck seeing one of them.  

California Tortoiseshell, Tumalo Falls June 2024

    Sandra and I finished our coffee, applied our sun screen and bid our Kiwi friends a fond farewell.  They, in turn, wished us good luck with the butterflies, At that moment, I was sure that we needed all the good luck we could get. 

    Outside, despite being only 9:30, the sun was up, the sky was blue, and it was already warm.  We took the main trail up the hill from the lodge.  It climbed steeply and then turned west.  A sign noted that we were on the Pacific Crest Trail.  This trail was well trod with ankle high barriers and signs to keep on the trail.   After fifty yards we came to a crossroads.  The PCT continued west with seemingly little change in elevation.  Like the hill-topping butterflies, we wanted to go up.  And so we turned right onto a wide path that paralleled the ski lift.  Our new trail was wider, perhaps it would be accessible to an ATV associated with ski lift repair.   Best of all, this steeply climbing road had no barriers to prevent us from wandering.  

Boiduval's Blue, Deschutes Puddle Party, May 2023

 

   We climbed another 150 vertical feet and decided to take a rest.  One can over do this mountain climbing stuff.  Sandra found a rock that was both shaded and sufficiently comfortable. Left to my own devices (my sweetie had claimed the best rock) I crawled up the bank and perched on a spruce root that was retaining the soil.  At this point I decided, in a most self serving way, to hunt butterflies the way Rollo Kuse hunted deer.  

    Sandra's father, Rollo, was famous for his success in dispatching Bambi on an annual basis.  The best story involves him arriving in front of Sandra's dorm at Chippewa State with Bambi draped over and secured to the hood of his station wagon and honking madly until all the young lovelies came to admire the fruits of his hunting prowess.  

    The bottom line is that Rollo knew how to hunt in a way that my pater familias certainly did not.  My dad would arm my brother and me with shotguns while he carried a 30.06.  We would walk in a semi-stealthy fashion through some second growth alders for 45 minutes and, surprise, surprise, not see a fucking thing.  Rollo, on the other hand, would find a deer trail and sit quietly for as long as it took Bambi to wander by.  

This Butterfly Has Flown

    So, as I sat on my shaded perch, with a great view of a small meadow of asters and such, I took heart in the notion that I was not being lazy.  I was being smart.  Like Rollo!  I had a great view of the flies and bees that were working the wildflowers, which only three or four hundred feet higher than the lodge were far less baked.  We waited for a while, and I was in the final ten minutes of what my patience would tolerate when suddenly here came a butterfly making his way up hill.  I called to Sandra as the butterfly flew behind her, she turned and got a pretty good look at a California Tortoiseshell. 

   Well, this got me off my duff and we both traipsed around for a bit.  But like the bird in Norwegian Wood, this butterfly had flown.  We had both seen the medium sized orange insect, though, and we were not skunked.  God bless Rollo Kuse, wherever he is.  Presumably waiting for Bambi in St Peter's Wood.   

   Heading down the hill we encountered another butterfly on it's way up.  This was a medium sized yellow butterfly that circled for a while, getting quite close to both of us but never landing.  And never finding his way into my net.  As he flew by, I could make out the black dorsal wing linings, making this an Orange Sulfur Butterfly.  

    Robert Pyle tells us that "This is the most abundant butterfly in the high cascades in the fall, often seen moving up mountain roads..."  Sounds like Bob has it pegged.

Hydaspe Fritillary, Alpine Campground, Labor Day 2024

    We wanted to continue down the ski lift path, but at the intersection with the Pacific Crest Trail it became even steeper and appeared to terminate at the ski lift hut.  And so we turned back onto the PCT.  Here we encountered many hikers and their children and their dogs.  We also became reacquainted with the fences keeping us on the trail.  And the signs warning us to behave...or else.   A short piece down the trail we spotted several larger blues in the abundant white wildflowers.  

    We took turns with the binoculars, getting pretty good looks.  We were unwilling to step over the trail guards though, so we couldn't get a chance at netting one.  The female nearest to us was quite dark ventrally.  Several males were fitting around about twenty yards down the hill and it was easy to appreciate their gray blue surfaces.  Most likely these were Boiduval's Blues.

    Named for a famous Frenchie, who sat in his Ivory Tower in Paris naming the species that he received specimens from our hero, Pierre Lorquin, Boisduval's Blue is possibly the most common blue in the Pacific Northwest.  It is slightly larger than most other blues, is found in a variety of habitats and appears later in the season at higher elevations..  The picture you see here was taken at a dirt boat launch on the Deschutes near Maupin, Or. in the spring of last year.  Also present were Sagebrush Checkerspot, ,Coronis Fritillary. and Oregon Swallowtail.  With a gathering so auspicious, I trust they were drinking something better that plain old mud filtered water.  A Willamette Valley pinot, perhaps?

    One might easily think that three species for the morning was three more than we had a right to expect. So we were pretty happy as we descended 500 feet to Alpine Campground.  Immediately as we arrived we saw dark medium sized butterflies in flight.  It took a while to track one down, but I got my first on the far side of the highway, on the gated dirt road leading to a meadow.  A quick look at my catch and I knew it was our new best friend, an Hydaspe Frit.  

   Caitlin had said that this was our most common frit, but until this year Sandra and I had hardly seen one.  We encountered them in the vicinity of the Washougal in June and July and now here they were in great numbers at 5,400 feet.  Pyle and LaBar agree that it is found from lowlands in late spring to hill topping mountains later in the season.  Cait is apparently unavailable; perhaps she is out tormenting the butterflies of Montana.  When she gets back I'm sure she will tell us if it is surprising that we saw this butterfly in great numbers at Alpine Campground.  Look at our pictures taken back at the ranch.  In addition to some diagnostic ventral views, this guy gave as a great look at his dorsal pattern , as well.

    We were lucky to have such a day near the end of the butterfly season.  Football season is now upon us.  So raise a glass of something delicious and give us a Go Huskies! 

jeff

Anna's Blue to the Rescue

The Original Snorkelkids ca 2009

      It was coming up to the middle of August and the Butterfly Buddies (we used to be the Snorkelkids) were jonesing for one more lep to add to the summer's list.  We called on Auntie Cait, the Queen of Kelso, and all she had was head east of Mount Hood and look for a Golden Chinquapin in whose branches you might find the Golden Hairstreak.  But don't hold your breath; "its a difficult butterfly to locate."

Fifteen years later on Mount Hood

     As you know, I'm not a botanist.  If I had any confidence that I could tell a Golden Chinquapin from a Golden Goose, we would have been down in Eugene in early July looking for California Sister.  Suffice it to say, the Sister remains safely on the wish list.  Stay tuned next June when we search out muddy boat launches on the Rogue River where my children tell me those little devils run rampant. 

     So, with that exceedingly faint bit of encouragement, we got out on the road and headed for altitude.  By 8:30 on Monday morning we were sitting in front of the coffee urn at Timberline Lodge.  Through the window we could see cavorting Pine Siskins and some very streaky finches,   The bird guides convince me that it is a fool's errand to identify fall finches, Cassin's , Purple and House.   There were a few fat ground squirrels filling their cheek pouches with the alpine bounty, for the wildflowers uphill from the lodge were still thriving.  

   Sandra and I walked uphill and as we returned, we met a gentleman from Portugal, of all places.  We took some pictures of him with the mountain and he took about a dozen pictures for us.  It was warm, sunny and delightful.  

Ana's Blue, Timberline Mount Hood, August 2024

   One might have thought that we would proceed to see all sorts of butterflies.  But this was not to be.  We descended to Alpine Campground and walked back and forth for a couple hours, seeing nothing in the way of butterflies.  I explored across the street and found a gated dirt road that led to a delightful meadow where there were bees, but no butterflies. 

   A little after noon we had had enough of all this nothing.  While Sandra worked on a crossword puzzle, I took my net and crossed the street, walking back into that meadow.  Finally, I looked in the correct spot and there was a tiny female blue.  At first she was open and I could see her brown dorsum.  She then closed her wings revealing tiny black spots.    Luck was with me and I netted the little dear.  Back at the car, Sandra transferred her to the vegetable bag.  Through the bag we got a look at a tiny butterfly, white below with some exceedingly tiny black spots and  grayish brown on the dorsum. We saw no dorsal  distinguishing marks.  

Anna's Meadow, across the from Alpine NFS

   After a futile trip around the mountain to Mount Hood meadows, where the day had turned cold and windy, we went home.

    It takes about an hour to chill a butterfly and by late afternoon we were able to position her on the stick and get some pictures.  My opinion is that if we had not resorted to this extreme protocol, obtaining really good pictures of the ventral wings, we would not have been able to identify her.  Certainly prior to the photography we did not notice those delicate orange chevrons.   Of course, we were not the ones to do the identification...the best of our pictures was emailed to Caitlin, with the admonition that when I saw the dorsal surfaces up on the mountain I saw no orange.  

    Cait got back to us right away, saying:

Anna's Blue :)   The ones we have here are mostly brown with only a hint of orange,  less than most other butterflies that have it.

   We then repaired to the book, Pyle and LaBar, Butterflies of the Pacific Northwest.  Here we found that Anna's Blue lives in cool boreal forests above 3,000 feet all the way up to bare rock and ice above timber line.  The male is blue above with no orange and the female is mole-brown (as compared to dry leaf brown) with a hint of orange in the aurorae.  

    The butterfly then spent the night in our inside refrigerator.  This is the warmer of the two;  ice forms around the beer cans in the garage refrigerator and so it is used, vis a vis butterflies, for short periods and in only the most demanding circumstances.   

Anna's female, courtesy of Pyle and LaBar.

    So Tuesday morning we took the butterfly out and placed her under a stemless wineglass, hoping that she would unfold her wings so we could look for that orange aurora.  We waited for twenty minutes and then impatience ruled the day.  We shuffled the glass around, making the butterfly flip open for an instant.  This was too fast for our geriatric eyes, so we took a few movies.  I can now state, with the benefit of cell phone videography, that when a little butterfly flips her wings they are exposed for a mere fraction of  a second.  Not long enough, even with the most dexterous pausing, to get anything but a blurry look at her wings.  In the best blurry view, assuming I was so disposed, I could imagine a hint of orange.

   Now a hint of orange is something you might expect in a tequila sunrise.  I'm showing you the picture my guru uses in her book of the female Anna's dorsum.  Although that is less orange than you might find in Acmon's or Melissa's, its more than a hint of orange.. think maybe a screwdriver.  

    But as with many northwest butterflies.it comes down to subspecies.  In the book, we count 20 species of Pacific Northwest blue butterflies that have orange in the females dorsal wing.  Bob Pyle says, "few in our area (sub species P.anna ricei ) have orange in the aurora, unlike the subspecies found in California.  I guess the Anna's you find on Mount Shasta prefer screwdrivers.  

    When we saw the little butterfly above Timberline Lodge three weeks ago, it was almost certainly an Anna's.  Cait included Anna's in her speculation along with Silvery and Boiduval's.  Now we can all be sure that this unusual alpine butterfly is up at Timberline, which remains fertile territory for butterfly discoveries.

jeff