Kahalu'u Reopens Courtesy of the No Fun League

   Late yesterday afternoon Sandra was sitting on the couch playing with her phone; it was Saturday so there was no Jeopardy!  "Look!" she exclaimed.  "Mayor Kim has opened up the county beaches for people to swim!"  She then proceeded to recite the list of beaches which includes our near and dear K Bay.

   Well, if that doesn't make a fish watchers heart go pitter pat, I don't know what will.  The following morning, which is to say about eight hours ago, I got my gear together and we drove down to our

A Kahalu'u Treat  Saddleback Butterflies April 2016

favorite little snorkeling spot.  Suffice it to say we were surprised that the gate was still locked and there were but three cars in the large parking lot.  The surf was up and at 9:30 there were surfers galore.  But not a single snorkeler plied the bay.

   Sandra reopened the article on her phone, verifying her information.  It looked like the bay had been open for "exercise" since Friday.  We parked on the hill above the bay and I walked down around the gate across the driveway, onto the beach and over to the shower.  There, a lady lifeguard was disrobing, taking off her yoga pants and her yellow and red lifeguard T shirt to reveal a healthy female of about 27 in a small red bikini.  Luckily, I'm so old that the admiral of the blue no longer comes to attention in such situations.   I said good morning and asked if it was true that the park was open for snorkeling.  She agreed that it was and I headed back up the hill to get my gear.

    Just like when I went snorkeling at the pier, and had to make my way through the hobo

I never get tired of the red labrid.  Kahaluu February 2015

encampment to catch a shower, I had a plan.  Maybe this time it would work out better.  I had a large beach towel in which I planned to change (no contaminated restroom for me) and a grass mat on which I would lay my stuff on the beach.  Thusly burdened,  I re-entered the park.  Immediately a young male lifeguard accosted me. You can't bring any of that stuff into the park." he stated.  No mats, towels, or bags of clothes. Only your mask and fins."

    "But won't my stuff get all sandy?" I pleaded.  Clearly I hadn't listened carefully enough the first time...there would be no stuff. I made the walk back up the hill to the car and deposited all the stuff, including my small towel, in the trunk.

    Finally, after one more admonishment about the current on a high surf day, I made it into the water.  The water was blissfully warm, at least in comparison to what I had feared   I had wondered if there would be more fish than usual.  Indeed there were fish, but nothing earth shaking.  A really

That dot in the center is me.  I had the bay to myself.  Photo SKG. 

nice pair of saddleback butterflies, a red labrid wrasse and a single Forster's Hawkfish topped the list.  I am repainting a threadfin butterfly model, so I took special note of the threadfins that were there.

   The current was fairly strong and this prevented a careful examination of the coral for invertebrates.  After my shower I had a nice short chat with the lady lifeguard.  She asked how I enjoyed having the beach to myself, while I wanted to talk about how I was all wet and didn't have a towel and how our lovely mayor, Mr. Kim, might react to this deplorable, not to mention soggy, situation.  She didn't look pleased, but then all she had going for the rest of the day was sitting in her fancy new lifeguard house, eat bon bons and yell through her bullhorn at the surfers about not loitering on the beach.

   Just like my experience at the pier, I went home wet.  If I didn't live close by, would I have changed inside a towel on the street?  Maybe Mr. Kim knows the answer. 

Marla and the Manta Ray

    Sandra and I have fallen into a pattern, which is pretty good by the standards of today's world, but is becoming our current routine.  Sadly, you may find it a little boring.

Wire Coral Goby, Kawaihae, April 2020

   The day before yesterday we did a major bit of gardening and then, yesterday morning, hauled a trunk full of clippings and palm fronds up to Waikoloa.  From there we made the short hop to Kawaihae.  The surf was up and the tides were wrong to attempt the few available beaches further south.

   As we arrived, Lottie launched her surfboard and proceeded to wallow in the minimal surf offered up there in the Great Kohala Bight, which on that day protected Kawaihae from the bigger surf that was occurring everywhere else.  It was my turn and I launched myself, bundled in layers of neoprene, into the harbor.

   The water was still cool and remarkably cloudy, perhaps only six feet of visibility.  Luckily,
visibility wasn't much of an issue, as there was pitifully little to see, not a single nudibranch or feather duster.  I did manage this nice picture of the wire coral goby, which is moderately dependable on the wire that descends from the second platform.  I gained a bit of extra stability by holding on to the wire.

Mushroom coral, Fungia scutaria, Kawaihae April 2020

   The only other thing of interest on the platforms was a cushion starfish that had attached itself to a post.  These stars can eat living coral polyps, but I was not aware that they could gain nutrition from black cave sponges, much less a thin coat of fouling organisms that colonized the cement post.

   Just as I dispensed with the third platform, my friend Peter swam up.  I was really happy to see him, in no small part because I don't like swimming in cloudy water.  (the myth being that shark attacks are more likely at dawn and dusk and in cloudy water)  I doubt that a second swimmer increases the safety, but it does add confidence.

   We swam for ten minutes on the far side of the jetty that protects the platforms.  The best thing I saw was a mushroom coral, which is better than nothing, and then headed across the pond to the mauka reef where we have seen the developing sailfin tang. Visibility there was much worse, perhaps as little as two feet.  Far from ideal, this sort of blindness affords one the opportunity to bump into stuff...like sea urchins.  As we abandoned that

The Manta is surrounded by the three swimmers

area, Peter noted that Marla had heard that mantas were feeding on the ocean side of the break water and that he thought they would give that a try.  As I was already cold, I decided that I would pass.

   I was finishing my shower when it became apparent that Marla and Peter were having some success with the mantas.  Sandra and I found a good spot on the breakwater to watch the action.  Our friends were enjoying a single manta with a wing span of six or seven feet.  While this is big for something you encounter in the ocean, it is mama bear size, neither big nor small, for a manta ray in Hawaii.. 

   Our expert, Hai, said that once the mantas start feeding in this location they will swim back and forth for hours, right beside the breakwater.  Back when there were tourists, a major attraction was watching the mantas at night in a location where under water lights attracted plankton.  This leads to a mistaken impression that mantas are primarily nocturnal.  Clearly, mantas feed when and where

Maybe you will be able to book in the near future.

there is suitable food in the water, regardless of the time of day. 

   A third swimmer had joined our friends, so it was three against one. Not very good odds for the ray in this aquatic contest of pin the tail on the manta.  For much of the time the manta appeared to us only as a large dark shadow.  But sometimes it was quite visible, just below the surface.  As you can see, in at least a couple of those instances, our friends were pretty close to the ray. Luckily, the water camera works quite well when taking pictures of the ocean from the dry.  I hope that this gives you a better idea of the experience than my weak attempt at underwater photography presented a few months ago.  You can see how close they are to the breakwater.

Peter, Marla and the Manta. 

    One has to think that it would have been a lot more fun to be in the water with the manta, but it was actually quite a bit of fun to be up above, recording the experience.    As Peter and Marla emerged from the ocean we said our good byes and confirmed that we would see them next week.  After dropping off our yard debris.  Because that's the routine.

jeff

  

Snorkeling in Purgatory

     Yesterday was Easter.  For many of us, this means a sunrise service at church and a big family dinner with the grand children (Vera, Chuck and Dave) and, of course, Uncle Albert.  This year those activities were precluded by social distancing.  Another activity that might have been precluded by social distancing rules, not to mention common sense, was swimming.  Which is just another way of saying snorkeling.

The Easter Chorus, February 2012, Kailua Pier 

    In my pantheon of holiday themed target fish, right below the Christmas wrasse, is the Easter Chorus.  Some of you may know this fish, which is also a wrasse, as the elegant coris.  I gave it a new common name to suit my needs.  It is well established, except perhaps in the case of bird watching (where the American Ornithological Union is very strict), that anyone can apply a new common name whenever he or she wishes and nobody can say "boo!" about it.  In the case of the Easter Chorus, the name derives from the cross prominently displayed on the forehead of the adult supermale.  Also this fish displays a singular, writhing motion as it swims, as if it is anticipating, or maybe even experiencing, crucifixion.

   As you by now know, the best place to see this fish, Kahalu'u Beach Park, is locked up tighter than the operculum on a strawberry drupe.  In fact, the only legitimate snorkeling venue available on this day that might yield the eponymous coris, was the Kailua pier.  And so, I spent a goodly portion of Good Friday planning just how I could conduct this yearly ritual, the hunt for the Easter Chorus, safely.

Easter Chorus Transmogrification or What did the priest put in my wafer?

   My plans were set and Sandra dropped me off mid-morning at the pier. Having observed the paucity of visitors to the pier through out the preceding week, we were surprised by how many people were there.  Seemingly normal people.  Hopefully un-infected people.  At least half a dozen of these stalwarts were employing the cubbies in time honored fashion, leaving their clothes and towel in a cubby while they swam.  My beloved and I had discussed that piece of beach side furniture in detail and decided that, unlike the checkout conveyor at Costco, this was not cleaned after each use and must be considered contaminato.

    To outfox the contaminated cubby situation I had brought a folding chair upon which to store my belongings. Thinking that the less stuff I wore into the ocean, the less would be contaminated at the shower after my swim, I entered Kailua Bay without a stitch of neoprene.  And, yes, it was cold.  But we were on a crusade.  Onward Christian Snorkelers!

   As I was putting on my fins, I saw the best fish of the day.

White Saddle Goatfish  Kailua Pier August 2018

    The white saddle goatfish, P. porpyreus, is one of those fish that back in the day, we might have hoped to see on a ten day family snorkeling vacation to these very waters.  It has become progressively rare and I can not recall for sure the last time I saw this fish.  It was never common, however. This violet colored goatfish with the nominative white spot on the caudle peduncle is supposedly the best tasting of the goatfish. There was a time when I thought this might account for its rarity.  I can now say with some authority that spear fishermen do not look for obscure goatfish.  Rather, they kill whatever is the most convenient, perhaps without any consideration to it edibility (Is that a word?  I wouldn't want to try it in Scrabble!) 

   So here, on Easter Sunday, swimming among the coral rubble, (and oblivious to the human rabble, of which I am a prime example) was a small trout of a white spot goatfish, perhaps three to four inches in length.  The water was cloudy and I didn't even have my fins on yet, so I didn't even consider taking a picture.  The picture you see here, taken 20 months ago, was of a much larger fish.  The younger fish that I saw had a deeper violet hue.

Pearl Wrasse female,  Mahukona April 2017

   I swam out to the last swim buoy and back in closer to the wall, in shallow water that I hoped would appeal to the elegant coris.  To a large extent, this was a quixotic mission, although at the start
of the day I would have said that I was much more likely to see an elegant coris than a white saddle goatfish on the Ironman side of the pier.  I would have amended the statement to indicate that I was most likely to see neither.

   On the way in, I had a great look at a female pearl wrasse.  I did get a picture of this pretty fish as it swam away through the milky water, but in the interest of your delicate sensibilities I'm showing you one taken exactly three years ago in the crystal clear waters of Mahukona.  the pearl wrasse is a pretty fish, but its relationship to Easter is obscure at best.  The expression "pearls before swine" comes from Matthew 7:6, in which he reports the Sermon on the Mount.  That's as close as I can get.

    Back on shore, it was time to perform my ablutions and this was the part that had everyone worried.  I wasn't able to retrieve my sandals without creating a mess, so I walked to the shower barefoot.  As I had feared, this required me to run a gauntlet through a throng of homeless gentleman, way more than a dozen between the ages of 25 and 50, that were congregated in the vicinity of the only public restroom and shower currently available in Kona.  In our multiple discussions about the corona virus, Sandra and I have decided that the epidemic is in part a socio-economic phenomenon.   And these guys represent the bulls eye for that particular dart board. Suffice it to say, I showered there and then once again at home, using lots of soap. 

  I'm not sure what Anthony Fauci would say about this, but Governor Ige wants me to get out of the house and go swimming.  I trust that he is happy.  As for Easter and the chorus, all I can say is, "He is risen."

jeff

Strawberry Drupes Forever

    Sandra and I spent a delightful portion of Good Friday at Kawaihae.  It seems strange that we can't find a closer place to swim safely in this plague-ridden season,  But apparently it is what it is and we feel lucky to have a place with dependably calm water and the prospect of meeting friends, albeit at a safe social distance.

Trembling Nudibranch, Kawaihae Harbor February 2020,  Photo Bob Hillis 

     On the way, out of curiosity, we stopped in at the Mauna Lani.  Black Sand Beach 49 has been one of our long time favorites and Peter recently told us that they had enjoyed a swim at the regular Mauna Lani beach. Its about ten miles south of Kawaihae and a little variety would be nice, so it seemed to be worth investigating.  The girl at the gatehouse for BSB 49 was very pleasant, but said that that avenue of pleasure was closed to the pubic for the foreseeable future.  Funny thing about this virus, it has all sorts of people referring to a nebulous time just over the horizon, when things like the transfer station and your favorite beach will once again become available.  Just when that might be in actual terms is beyond anyone's ability to predict.

Painted Nudibranch, Kawaihae Harbor,  Good Friday 2020

   We drove around to the beach area run by the hotel, which had a locked gate and a large menacing guard.   Clearly that wasn't an option for today.  One has to remember that a key point of (the pusillanimous) Governor Ige's decree was that we should continue to swim and surf.  The evening
news suggests that these activities continue on Oahu.  Why is it so difficult here?

    We arrived at Kawaihae to find our friend Hai holding his baby while simultaneously guarding a bag of fruit that Marla had left for us.  Lottie was off on a run, but two Kawaihae regulars, Jim and Joy were there, full of gratefulness for the beautiful day and our blessed surroundings.  I guess Jim had been dwelling on his mortality as a kapuna (old guy) because he said that he was experiencing much more happiness of late, appreciating the richness of his life. For those of us that are running this infectious gauntlet, that's a pretty good attitude. 

The fishy equivalent of Mick Dundee shooting the kangaroo hunters.  Go fish!

   The harbor was cool and cloudy, much more so than a few days ago.  Sandra and I swam to the
small mauka reef where we saw nothing of special interest.  The juvenile sailfin tang was nowhere to be seen...he was probably inside a coral head playing video games as befits his status as a teenager.  I have it on good authority that this adolescent tang has found a game in which a cigar smoking fish hunts down spear fishermen with a machine gun. 

  After a pleasant swim across the bay we arrived at the second platform.  Here we quickly spotted a  painted nudibranch, which was soon followed by a second a few columns over.  On our second pass around the platform we found a gloomy.  Although Bob Hillis found a trembling nudibranch a month or so ago, Sandra and I have not seen one this year.  But we keep looking.

A pair of cleaner wrasse dance a tango at Kawaihae.  April 2020.

    Earlier in the week, Peter had scored a life fish, the Citron Butterfly, at the end of the jetty.  this isn't a spot that I work routinely, but I would like to see another citron butterfly before I die, so the redoubtable SKG and I swam out and around the corner.  There were no special butterflies, but there was a pair of hawaiian cleaner wrasses.  The water in this spot was fairly clear and they were cooperative, yielding the picture you see here.

    Just a bit further on, I saw a large drupe attached to the living coral.  It looked like mottled lump about the size of a tangerine, which is small for a citrus fruit but enormous for a drupe.  Hoping for a blood hermit crab, I pried the shell off the coral, flipped it over and waited.  As I watched from about five feet above, I realized that this was an intact snail and inside the aperture, which was surrounded by a luscious pearly purple was the most beautiful operculum  that I have ever seen.  An operculum is a shell-like plate that the snail carries on is foot and pulls behind him as he retreats into the friendly confines of his shell.  Form fitted, it seals off the aperture perfectly.  In his case,  the operculum, which is composed of calcium carbonate and keratin, glowed like gold.  With the gorgeous operculum and the surrounding pearly purple aperture, we had one heck of a beautiful

Strawberry Drupe  Drupa rubusideaus Kawaihae April 2020  4 feet.

drupe.

    Back at the ranch, I worked on my pictures and referred to Hoover's Sea Creatures and Mike Severn's Hawaiian Seashells.  It may be no coincidence that Pauline Fiene, the Queen of Hawaiian Nudibranchs, works for Mike Severns dive company on Maui. The Dream Team of Hawaiian Molluscs!

     I was still not sure about my identification and sent my pictures off to Marta de Maintenon, who has helped us so many times.  She wrote back promptly with the identification Drupa rubusideaus, with the admonition that this species can grow quite large.  It is noteworthy that younger shells of this species are a golden tan and covered with stout projections that John Hoover says defend the animal against crushing predators.  So different did my individual look, with its projections worn down and its surface covered with coralline algae, that I hope you and Dr. De Maintenon will forgive me for requiring additional help in identification. I must also point out that in Mike Severns excellent book,

Mike Severns and Pauline Fiene, the Dream Team of Hawaiian Molluscs

he lists this drupe as up to 38 mm.  At about one and a half inches that is small for a tangerine.  In the
field notes I sent to the doctor, I stated that it was 2 inches, roughly 55 mm., for those of you who are metrically challenged.  The magical waters of Kawaihae grow ultra big gloomies, could that magic apply to drupes, as well?

    John Hoover says up to two and a half inches.  But then he is a Big Island boy, so he knows!  John calls this the Brilliant Drupe and tells us that rubus is Latin for blackberry.   However, strawberry drupe appears to be the accepted common name.  John Hoover is  a remarkable authority, but I guess you can't win 'em all. 

Living is easy with your eyes in the sea.  Strawberry drupes forever.

    Drupes are common on our wave swept shores, so I'm still having trouble with the idea that I am Drupa ricina at Kahalu'u, again with Marta's help.  Two life drupes in 2020.  Not bad.  Wikipedia and several other resources on the internet suggest that rubusideaus is not found anywhere near Hawaii. Perhaps Pauline Fiene needs to get busy and update that reference.  Not only is that baby here, but it is a work of art in its own right.
finding new species of drupes, for me anyway, in sheltered bays.  You may recall that when Bob and Kim visited just a month ago I found

    Before we left we crossed the car park and said hi to Lottie.  She had returned from her run and Hai was taking his turn in the water.  Sr. On was over in the small boat harbor looking for sharks.  Suffice it to say, he is not pusillanimous!

jeff




   

The Sailfin Tang Becomes a Quarantiner

    Sandra and I went snorkeling today.  It had been over a week.  The only beach available for us down in Kona is the pier, where the homeless are congregating and social distancing is hit or miss.  All the county beach parks are closed.  With this in mind, we headed north again to Kawaihae.

Is a puzzlement!

   On the way we stopped at the Waikoloa Green waste depository.  In its wisdom, the county solid waste division has closed the green waste portion of the Kona transfer station until further notice.  This inscrutable maneuver did not stop the plants from growing and so we are left with the 25 mile drive up to Waikoloa where the county and Waste Management maintain the largest waste depository on this side of the island.

     In addition to getting rid of our palm fronds, leaves and ginger trimmings, we had the opportunity to get chastised by the auntie who is running the scale on Saturday.  She didn't think we should be out.  Perhaps its because I'm not brown enough. Or maybe its because we don't have a pickup truck.  But we are in a pickle.  Its hard to believe that mayor Kim wants us to make a pile of yard debris in our yard, growing daily for the foreseeable future. In the words of the great Yule Brinner (as the King of Siam) "Is a puzzlement."

Porcupinefish.  Like somebody's dottering uncle hanging out in the shade.

   Having left the auntie to justify her phoney baloney job, we quickly covered the remaining miles up to Kawaihae Harbor.  We arrived before Peter and Marla, but not before Hai and Lottie, who were busy alternating between child care and planting succulents.  As the Kroppje's drove up, Sandra scored a strange woody succulent that the sometimes sea slug finder called a Hawaiian jade.

   Soon enough Sandra and I were circling platform number 1.  The water is now much warmer, not that our neoprene seemed superfluous.  And the water was about as clear as it ever is in the harbor; where ever I went I could see the bottom.

   Under the first platform was one of the resident porcupinefish and he proved to be a cooperative model.  Don't you just love that nose.  He looks like someones like someone's demented uncle loitering in the shade on a summer afternoon in Mayberry.  Do I resemble that remark?

The Bull Goose Gloomy nudibranch rears his fearsome head.

    On the sunny side of the platform we found a pair of gloomies.  Although we had heard about giant gloomy nudibranchs seen in the last moth,  we were happy to resume our acquaintance with these handsome blue and black sea slugs.  In spite of the fact that these guys were only of normal size, less than three inches in length, it was still a pleasure to watch them slime their way over the fouling organisms on the pillar.

    On our way out to the second platform I dove down ten feet in the clear water and found a baby dascyllus living in a cauliflower coral.  There are currently no babies living on the cauliflowers attached to the pylons so I was happy to say hello to this little feller. 

   Swimming around the pillars of the second platform, we encountered a huge gloomy nudibranch.  He must have been 5 inches in length.  I thought he was even larger.  What we assumed was his mate was on the adjacent column.  She wasn't quite as big as this dragon of a gloomy, but no shrimp, either.  About a month ago Hai photographed one of these monster gloomies with a pair of surgical scissors to document the size.  He sent the picture on to Cory Pittman who increased the known size for the species by a third! 

The adolescent Sailfin Tang  Kawaihae Harbor,   April 2020

    The third platform yielded nothing exciting and soon Sandra was headed to shore and I was on my way to the small reef mauka of the landing.  I puttered around the silty coral for about 15 minutes and was finally rewarded with the now adolescent sized sailfin tang. If you look back at past blogs, you will see that I saw the keiki on January 10th.  Anyone who can turn the calendar back to that day has my full permission.   In the interim our very world has changed, and not for the better.  It would appear that all the sad things happening on land have had no effect on this developing Quaranteener, as Sandra and I are naming the children born in 2020.  I predict that there will be  a lot of them. 

  Back in January this fish  (I assume this is the same individual)  was hanging out with a small juvenile yellow tang.  Three months later, he is not quite adult shaped, but roughly three times larger. surprisingly, he is still remarkably yellow.  I would have expected that before now he would have traded up to the adult butterscothch brown coloration.  At this stage in his development, he has not hooked up with other sailfin tangs.  Insted, he is chilling with adult threadfin butterflyfish. 

A second look at the Quaranteener sailfin tang.

    While sailfin tangs remain relatively common at places like Kahalu'u,  juveniles, either at the keiki stage or this teenager, are very unusual. Look at the pictures and enjoy.  The fish was a little spooky and he moved in stops and starts so photography wasan't that easy.  Using Peter and Hai as my ideal, I took my time, made multiple dives and took a bunch pictures. This is a rare chance to watch an individual develop over a few months. With any luck I will see him one more time before he moves away to college.

jeff

I don't care if you are stuck in the house.  I want to borrow the car!

Kawaihae At Last

   Two days after Bob and Kim Hillis flew back to their Rocky Mountain hideaway, I got good and sick.  This lasted about a week.  As soon as I started feeling better, my soul mate fell to the same foul virus.  By the time we were both feeling better the plague stalked the land and social distancing had become the watch word.  We would drive by places like Kahalu'u Beach Park and see droves of people in and around the shelter and snorkeling in

Does this beach look closed?  Sunbathers and boogie boarders at White Sands. Picture SKG

the bay.  One had to wonder who these people were: infected tourists from the mainland taking advantage of cheap airfares?  Whoever they were, we didn't want to be around them.

   Two days ago our Sandwich Islands politicians finally addressed the pandemic, closing many of the local beaches.  Sandra thought we should take a spin along Alii Drive to see what our favorite beaches looked like under the new restrictions.  Kahalu'u, guarded by a variety of maintenance workers and lifeguards, was indeed empty.  But other places like White Sands Beach sported tourists tanning and boogie boarders playing in the waves.  We only have 5 cases of Covid-19 on the Big Island, but it seemed down right unpatriotic for people to use these closed parks.

A lone keiki on the sand at the King Kam

   Our tour ended down at the pier.  Both sides of the pier remain open to swimmers.  In a truly Hawaiian twist, Governor Ige has asked people to shelter at home, but encourages us to exercise.  This specifically includes swimming and surfing.  On this morning the usual battalion of lady recreational swimmers, who daily ply the waters of the Ironman side, were nowhere to be seen.  Only a couple down and out kapunas were in the water.

   In front of the King Kamehameha Hotel, the beach was virtually empty.  One lone mother sprayed her daughter with sunscreen following which the chubby little girl frolicked down the sand to the Inner Harbour.

    Up at the showers, I had the pleasure of watching a down and out kapuna finish his laundry, soaping and scrubbing a sweater on the concrete shower floor while the water ran wide open.  Is this where I want to take my chances against the dreaded Covid-19?

In a couple hours  I have to get up, pee and wander around the house.

   Last night, in response to its failing battery, my cell phone chimed at 2 AM.  This is about the time that, like Bob Newhart  in the Big Bang theory,  I get up to roam around the house.  You know...  do the dishes, paint a butterfly, work on the blog, etc.  So dealing with the pager in the wee hours was no problemo.   Imagine my nocturnal pleasure when I saw an invitation from our good friends up in Kapa'au; Would we like to meet in the morning for a swim at Kawaihae?   Wood eye!?  It had been three weeks since I had been snorkeling.  How exciting!

  We arrived at the harbor to find a virtual gale blowing out of the south.  On a happier note, the sun was out and a wind surfer was racing back and forth.  Considering that in the winter windy conditions are frequently present at this otherwise patch of flat water, its surprising that we haven't seen a wind
surfer here before.

Windsurfing Kawaihae.

    Soon our friends Peter and Marla arrived.   If you are gainfully employed and have not been told to stay home until further notice, you may not be as hungry for human companionship as us retired folks.  Suffice it to say, it was a delight to see our friends.

    Both Sandra and Marla opted out of swimming in the wind, so Peter and I put on our neoprene and headed in to the harbor.  The wind was moving the surface water at a fine clip, so it took only a few strokes to make it out to the first platform.   On my first time around the platform  I spotted a small decorated nudibranch.  For some reason I recalled my youth, ever so long ago,  when I would go fishing with friends.  Back then a wave of relief always accompanied the landing of the first fish.  Never mind if it was a three inch chub. That was OK.  "At least we didn't get skunked!"   This solitary decorated would be the only nudibranch we found on this day.

Trembling Nudibranch, Kawaihae February 2020.  25 feet.  photo Bob Hillis

   The last time we were at Kawaihae, Kim and Bob Hillis and yours truly swam with Peter.  That time out, we saw three species of nudibranchs:  several decorateds and painteds and a single trembling nudibranch that Bob found by diving to the bottom near the third platform.  He got a couple wonderful pictures of this small animal 25 feet below the surface.  Peter was able to dive down and see it, as well.  My limit is about 15 feet on my best day so I was SON.  I hope you enjoy Bob's photo, taken with his Canon D30.

   On the second platform  I found a curious little fish harboring near a small cauliflower coral.  As you can see, he was mostly clear, possibly evolving from a larval stage with his sights set on becoming a mature fish.  This is an odd little fellow and we will need to do some research before we put a name on him.

   The wind wasn't abating.  Every now and then I would surface, only to be hit in the face with spray blowing off the whitecaps.  This was remarkably like having someone spray you in the face with a garden hose. Forcefully. Of course, when you have a mask to protect your eyes, and the right attitude,  it can be a bit of fun... in a wet, off beat sort of way.

Every good snorkel needs a mystery fish.

    The third platform didn't reveal much and so Peter and I made the swim across the harbor to the shoreline mauka to the landing platform.  On my last visit I saw a Philippine mantis shrimp in this area.  Like some sort of aquatic centipede, it crawled out from under and then over the coral for a few seconds before disappearing.  This was only my second mantis shrimp in Hawaii.  On this day the best thing in the coral was a juvenile Paletail Unicornfish.  Well, you can't see a mantis shrimp every time.

   Soon, Peter and I had crawled out of the black lagoon and made our way up to the car park.  Curiously, Sandra and Marla were nowhere to be seen.  I took this moment to reach back to 1974 and whip out a quote from Blazing Saddles.  This quote was appropriate to the absence of our femmes blanche, but, as it came from Blazing Saddles, was not appropriate in any other sense.  I'm not sure Peter, who usually keeps up handsomely with my warped dialogue, recognized the source. As such, he evinced a mild embarrassment as he provided me with a gallon of warm water and

For my next impression : Jesse Ownens

pointed out that the ladies were in conclave with Hai, Lottie and Naia on the ocean side of the
parking lot.

    We enjoyed a quick visit with the young familia On and made eyes at baby Naia, all the time maintaining our six feet of social distancing.  I promise to get another blog in less than three weeks, but it ain't gonna be easy.

jeff

Decorated Nudibranch March 2020  At least we didn't get skunked!

The Day Bob Went Back to Utah

    The day Bob Hillis flew back to Utah we took an aloha dip at Kahalu'u.  That venerable fish pond is always worth a visit and the Hillises had been so busy on their whirlwind adventure that old K Bay had been overlooked.  We would remedy that even if they had to pack a duffel full of wet swim wear.

    The first thing we noticed was that the bay was really, really cold.  If anyone has taught me to

The red Veiled Drupe from Santa's workshop

estimate with discretion, Sr. Hillis would be the hombre.  And Bob guessed that the water was 70 bone chilling degrees.  Fahrenheit.   For an unprecedented period, daily high temperatures had been remarkably benevolent on the leeward side of the Big Island.  Not only were we wearing real clothes all day, but, apparently the temperature of the earth itself had cooled.  With the possible exception of the Inner Harbour in front of the King Kam Hotel, the water temperature at Kahalu'u is affected more by the temperature of the springs  that percolate fresh water into the bay than any other place I swim.  We had gone through a period of rainy weather just before Bob and Kim arrived and this was the result.

   Being men of steel we swam bravely into the bay, accompanied by a batch of tourists from places like Minnesota, where cold water means something dramatically different than it does in these very Sandwich Islands.

   Aside from the cold water, there was not a heck of a lot to report from K Bay.  Early on I found an unusual shell, at least to my eye, attached to a dead hunk of  Evermann's coral.  As you can see it was a beautiful crimson with flamboyant white tips.  Almost as if it had been made by Santa's elves at the North Pole.  Which, I suppose, might explain the cold water.  After looking at my photo, I decided that it was probably a veiled drupe heavily encrusted with bright red coralline algae that somehow

Fourline Wrasse Kahalu'u 2016

spared the flaring tips. I checked it out with my long time correspondent, Marta de Maintenon and she agreed.  At the end of the day, it was just a red herring.

   I'm including a picture of a blue spine unicorn tang because that was about as good a fish as I was able to photograph.  Later in the swim, I saw a fourline wrasse hiding in a coral.  This fish does his best to define the word furtive.  I got two good looks of about two seconds each.  There once was a certain cauliflower coral in K Bay tht I could count on for this species.  It is good a nd dead now, but I recognize its remains as I swim by and recall this handsome little fish hiding in its branches.  I'm including a picture I took four years ago so you can remember him, too.

    Well, we got the our friends to the airport with sea water dripping out of their bags. Two days later I fell deathly ill.  Fortunately Sandra has managed to avoid the plague and after a full week of coughing sneezing sore throat I am feeling better.  I hope you all survive the Corona virus, especially those among our blog family that live in the greater Seattle area.  Ahh, for the good old days, when Kirkland was associated with an acceptable brand of bathroom tissue.

Stay well,
jeff

The Bluespine Unicornfish says, "Institute social distancing!"