I found this triumvirate in some shallow water. I saw the white-spotted sea cucumber and blue-black sea urchin first, then noticed the stocky hawkfish. As they do, the hawkfish held its ground for a while, before deciding that was enough of being observed.
A small flowery flounder passes over what I think are patches of lobe coral. Those two bumps casting shadows on the top of the fish are the flounder’s eyes, which sit on the end of small stalks. As you can see in the photo, the two eyes are pointing in different directions. This isn’t a case of wandering eyes; they work independently.
However, flounders, like other flatfish, do indeed have the most remarkable wandering eyes. Flatfish start out looking like regular fish, with one eye on each side of the head. As they transition from the larval to juvenile stage, one of the eyes migrates over the head to join the other one on what ends up being the top side of the fish.
The eyes migrate to different places, depending on the kind of flatfish. Some are left-eyed and some right-eyed, which refers to the eyes’ relationship to the mouth. Flowery flounders are left-eyed flatfish, the eyes being to the left of the mouth when seen from head on.
There are pros and cons to photographing flounders and other fish that rely on camouflage for protection. On the plus side, once they settle, they tend not to move so it makes it easier to get a photo. On the downside, because they blend in so well, it’s not easy to get a photo where the fish is clear. The best hope is to see one on the move, as I did with this one, not only to get a photo, but also to enjoy their elegant motion as they ripple through the water.
A few weeks ago, I posted a photo of a dead blenny floating in a tide pool filled with ‘delicate creamy shells.’ Recently, I returned to that area and I realized that the creamy shells were not shells, but something growing.
It turns out they’re a kind of seaweed, padina japonica, which both surprised and delighted me, since I think of seaweed as being stringy and brown. I learn something every day.
To celebrate, I went back and took some more photos, including these two Hawaiian zebra blennies, both very much alive, and both as delightful as the seaweed, with their little blue dots under the eyes and those oh-so-charming expressions.
Thanks to Jeanne at http://hawaiinaturejournal.weebly.com/ for help with the padina japonica identification.
This white-spotted surgeonfish is one that I see regularly when I’m snorkeling. It’s quite distinctive as something has taken a chomp or two out of its back. It’s not unusual to see fish like this, with chunks missing here and there, but if they survive the encounter, they seem to fare as well as the other fish. This one though seems, perhaps understandably, to be more skittish than most.
Raccoon butterflyfish are one of those fishes often seen in small groups. Other fish tend to clump together, but raccoon butterflyfish always seem to be traveling in formation as though they’re taking part in some kind of synchronized swim competition. Perhaps they are, in which case this group would have scored high points.
I was swimming one day when I realized I was being watched. Peeking up from a crevasse in the reef, was this giant porcupinefish. These fish do seem to be quite curious and this is a look I’ve seen before. The difference here was that the water was quite shallow, so the fish was not as deep as they usually are. If I got too close, the fish would dip deeper into the crevasse. If I moved away, it would pop up again.
Porcupinefish are not to be messed with. They have strong beaks (fused teeth), which they use to break mollusc and crustacean shells, and which have been known to sever fingers, too. In addition, like pufferfish, they can inflate themselves with water into a large, round ball when threatened. Unlike pufferfish, porcupinefish have sharp spines which normally lie flat, but which become erect when inflated. Finally, they’re extremely poisonous.
The other fish, in the second photo, are a goldring surgeonfish and, above it, a small blackfin chromis.
Another response to the last edition of the WordPress photo challenge with a theme of ‘All time favorites.’
There’s no doubt that moving to Hawaii has allowed me to gain an appreciation for creatures that live underwater. Where I lived before, in Washington State, getting in the water involved a huge amount of courage, which was rewarded by hypothermia and death 15 minutes later. I still consider it something of a minor miracle that I can jump in the water here, swim around for an hour, and emerge alive!
Photographing those underwater creatures is always something of a challenge. My camera is, essentially, a little point-and-shoot and I have no special lighting. The water is often murky and it’s always moving, I’m moving, the fish are moving. So I’m happy when I get a decent shot.
I spotted this devil scorpionfish when I was following a different fish and saw this unusual-looking ‘rock.’ It’s typical scorpionfish behavior. They have such good camouflage, that they can sit on the bottom in the open and not be noticed. After a few moments, the scorpionfish moved off and, as it did so, flashed the colorful undersides of its pectoral fins. This ‘flash’ serves as a warning to would-be predators that an encounter is not likely to end well for the attacker as the scorpionfish has venomous spines.
As for the other photo, I have it on good authority that his mother loves him.
I’m always amazed and entertained by the ability of eels to disappear into a seemingly solid lump of coral or rock and then, a few moments later, emerge from some unexpected location. I mean, how do they know they’re going to find a way out? There must not be too many claustrophobic eels in the world.
This whitemouth moray eel illustrates the concept in a small patch of dead coral.
Posted in response to this week’s WordPress Photo Challenge ‘Twisted.’
Graham's Island 