Brown water

Brown water

After something of a dry spell, during which I was able to drive my truck out of the yard without sliding about, there’s been a lot of rain lately. My truck is back to sliding, but that’s a minor issue compared with what happens to all that rainfall.

What happens is that the rain hits the land and runs downhill. It channels into dry gullies. If the rain is heavy enough, flash floods occur and wash all before them – dirt, rocks, trees. But any kind of heavy or prolonged rain will wash earth and debris down the gullies. All those gullies lead to the ocean, channeled under roads by culverts (bottom photo).

When the runoff reaches the ocean, it forms a distinct area of dirty brown water in the blue Pacific Ocean (top photo). The contrast is striking and easily visible from miles away. Over time, the brown and blue water will begin to mix until the delineation is gone, but part of that process is the dirt from the brown water settling to the ocean floor.

This kind of runoff is one of many threats to coral reefs around the Big Island. It’s not just dirt in the runoff, but also pesticides and other chemicals that can be washed down into the reefs, damaging the coral. There are hundreds of gullies and only a few places have erosion prevention measures to help mitigate this pollution.

So while Hawaii may be considered paradise, it has its share of challenges. And the problems associated with runoff and pollution are more visible and obvious than most.

Posted in response to this week’s Friendly Friday challenge on the theme of ‘Contrasts.’ See more responses here.

Brown water and culvert

Crinum asiaticum

Crinum asiaticum

Crinum asiaticum plantCommonly known as spider lily, crinum asiaticum has beautiful, delicate flowers, and sword-like leaves. The flowers are popular with gardeners, though possibly not with those who have kids since the plant is poisonous.

Crinum asiaticum flowers

Variable and seven-spotted ladybugs

variable and 7-spotted lady beetle

When I took this photo, I thought it was of two variable ladybugs mating. However, when I processed the photo, I noticed that the lower ladybug didn’t look the same as the top one. I think, instead, it’s a seven-spotted ladybug. I also noticed that that top ladybug is climbing up the side of the other one, which is not the usual mating approach.

So now I don’t know what’s going on. It could be that the top ladybug is trying to mate and has just got things seriously wrong. Or it could be a ladybug traffic accident, with the one bug getting in the way of the other. Perhaps they’re fighting. I guess I’ll never know.

The iceman cometh

The Ice freezer

The iceman comethThis week’s Sunday Stills challenge theme is ‘Frozen.’ (See more responses here.) Usually, when I post in response to a challenge, I hunt through my files to see what I have that fits. With this theme, I thought about a photo of snow on Mauna Kea, but I had none in my files and Mauna Kea was bare. While much of the U.S. battles winter blasts of one kind or another, Hawaii chugs along in its usual warm to very warm range. Last week, an unusual north wind dropped temperatures into the low 60s and – gasp – even the 50s. Oh, how we whined about the cold. But, ‘frozen?’ No.

So I thought of a few options and went out to see what I could shoot. Luckily, my first stop at a local grocery store met my needs. Most gatherings in Hawaii are outdoors and while barbecues feature in most of them, coolers are a must for all. Going to the beach? You’ll need a chair, towel, and cooler. To the local park? Picnic fixings, games for the kids, and a cooler. In your own backyard? Barbecue and cooler. And when I say cooler, it’s usually plural.

All those coolers need ice and most stores have ice freezers to meet those needs. This one was handily placed next to a display of silk flower leis, a Hawaiian party accessory. And, as if that wasn’t enough, moments after I took the first photo, the ice delivery man wheeled in fresh supplies and gave me a look, wondering why this strange person was taking photos of his freezer.

Manta ray magic

Manta Ray and reflections

Manta Ray closeThis week’s Friendly Friday challenge theme is ‘Comfort Zone.’ (See more responses here.) In my youth, swimming in the sea wasn’t something I enjoyed. This wasn’t because I was afraid, but rather that I was so skinny, I was instantly cold when I got in. Here in Hawaii, that’s no longer a problem. I’ve added a few pounds and the water’s warmer, so when I go snorkeling, I feel at home. There can be strong currents, big waves, and sharks with more sharp teeth than seems necessary, but I don’t worry about any of this. I try not to do stupid things in the water, but instead enjoy putting along and watching the fish.

Lately, I haven’t been able to get in as much and, because of a series of large swells, when I have, the water quality hasn’t been great. A couple of days ago I popped down hoping to cash in on some calm waters before a new swell filled in. Alas, the swell was bigger than the previous day, with some large sets rushing in and crashing ashore.

I thought the day was doomed, but got in anyway and immediately couldn’t see a thing. The water was all stirred-up sand. But visibility is often better farther from shore so I swam out. It did improve and by the time I got to one of the areas I usually visit, the visibility was OK, if not exactly great. By way of compensation, lots of fish were active, milling around near the surface and in deeper waters.

I was checking out these fish when I glanced to one side and saw this manta ray coming my way, not 20 feet away. It was a big one, with a wingspan of 8 to 10 feet. I hadn’t seen it before, but it was traveling fast enough that I wasn’t surprised by that. I snapped a couple of quick photos (including the one below) and then it was past and heading into the murk. I turned to follow.

One thing I’ve learned is that it’s mostly a futile activity chasing fish of any kind. In the water, I’m a model T Ford in a world of turbocharged Ferraris. The manta was swimming with little effort but easily outpacing me. But I noticed that it was heading into the bay and I thought that if I cut straight across the bay, I might see it again as it swung out.

Sadly, the visibility got worse the farther I went and I resigned myself to not seeing it again, right about the time the manta emerged from the gloom heading toward me. It cut across in front of me and I took the middle photo. It says something about how close the manta was that I was able to get a decent photo in such murky water.

Once again the manta disappeared with languid ease, heading south. I followed for a bit before I gave up and started looking around to see what else was in the water. Moments later the manta reappeared, again heading my way. Again it slipped by in front of me (top photo). Again, I followed, lost it, and then saw it coming toward me. The manta ray was clearly curious, checking me out, wondering this thing what in the water was that apparently could barely swim.

After it disappeared again, I waited a while but didn’t see it again and headed back to shore. When I got out, I saw another swimmer about to get in. “Did you see it?” he asked. I told him what had happened. “It’s still there,” he said, and then got in to see if he could find it.

Sure enough, the manta was visible from shore, its back showing through disturbed water, and its wingtips occasionally breaking the surface. As I watched, the manta ray swam back and forth, staying in the center of the bay, not that far from shore. I’d been in the water with it for about half an hour, and watched from the shore for another 20 minutes. When I left, it was still there.

I’ve been on a manta ray tour and there are others that take snorkelers to swim with the dolphins or to watch whales, but there is nothing quite so exhilarating or rewarding as a chance encounter. I headed out with low expectations and little enthusiasm, and returned energized. It’s moments like this that make living in Hawaii, indeed just living, worthwhile.

Manta Ray

Chubs in the surge

Chubs in the surge

These are probably gray chubs, but might also be brassy chubs, or even a mixture of both. The two species look similar and are found in similar locations, in the surge zone. I like to find a safe spot, just outside this zone, and watch the swells roiling in and see chubs and other fish swish back and forth with the swell.

Chubs are quite common and they aren’t shy. They’ll pass quite close, often with a cheerful, engaging look, which makes them a fun fish to encounter.