I spotted this Jeweled Anemone Crab scuttling over some very uneven rock and coral, but it was still able to move at a pretty good pace. The Jeweled Anemone Crab is a hermit crab, meaning it lives in a snail shell, either one it found unoccupied, or one from which is evicted the current tenant.
This one looks to have found a colorful shell, but looks are deceiving. The shell isn’t visible at all, because it’s covered by at least four large anemones! These are Calliactis polypus anemones. They give the crab some protection because, if disturbed, they shoot out stinging threads. In return, they get transportation and possibly scraps of food from the crab.
A few days ago, I posted here an image from a recent walk along the coast to Hapuna beach. I thought I’d post more photos from that walk for this week’s Sunday Stills challenge theme of ‘Paths and Trails’ (more responses here), and for Becky’s Squares theme of “Walking” (more responses here).
The trail crosses beaches large and small.
Of course, besides the views I was on the alert for anything moving on the beach or in the air.
Other parts pass through trees and other vegetation.
The top photo looks like a regular shot of an a’ama crab on the edge of a tide pool with the ocean blurred in the background. But the second photo shows that the ‘tide pool’ is actually a depression in a large rock, one of several placed along the edge of a parking lot, to stop people driving into the ocean (yes, they would, in case you’re wondering.).
For some reason, this encounter reminded me of the incredible climbing ability of these crabs even though I often see them skittering up or down vertical walls, in rolling surf, when I get in the water.
I’ve only seen one or two seven-eleven crabs (Carpilius maculatus) before, and not for several years. My wife had never seen one. One reason for this is that the crabs are active at night. But we saw this one a few days ago, scuttling over the rocks and sand. It was quite early in the morning, so the crab was probably headed for its home.
These crabs are quite large and have the distinctive markings that give it its name. There are the two spots alongside each eye and three across the center of the shell. Four more spots are less obvious on the back edge of the shell.
In Hawaii, these crabs are called ‘alakuma. Legend has it that a god caught an ‘alakuma, but the crab struck back and drew blood. This happened a second time, before the god finally snagged the crab. But the crab’s descendants continue to bear the markings of the god’s bloody fingerprints.
I saw this crab on the beach south of Kohanaiki Park. Pallid ghost crabs are small, with a carapace only an inch or so wide. They’re also speed demons, zipping across the sand, usually to disappear into their holes. That’s how I saw this one, on the move. But instead of diving for cover, it remained above ground.
I took some photos from distance before edging closer to try and capture more detail. The crab didn’t move. My biggest challenge was finding it in the camera’s viewfinder. Even though I knew where it was, half the time I wasn’t sure whether I had it in shot or not, they blend in so well.
The top photo shows the best of the close-ups. The second one gives an idea of the crab’s perfect coloration for its environment.
This month, Becky’s April Squares challenge theme is ‘Bright.’ (See more responses here.) First up I thought I’d share something very unusual, which I consider myself lucky to have seen.
You’ve probably heard of stick insects, but the stick swimming crab is a far less often encountered creature. Most crabs scuttle about on the sea floor, but swimming crabs have flattened segments on their legs, which they use to propel them through the water. But even with this different method of propulsion, swimming crabs tend to stay close to the bottom.
The stick swimming crab (Charybdis baculum) has a different approach. It heads for the bright light at the surface where it paddles along, maneuvering with its spindly legs. It will sometimes snag bits of floating debris and attach them to its body to enhance its appearance. Its goal is to look like a small, drifting haven for juvenile fishes and other marine organisms that often gather under such floating islands, which offer them some protection from predators. With the stick swimming crab, that safety is an illusion. Instead, they’re part of the crab’s lunch box, to be picked off at its leisure.
Stick swimming crabs spend most of their time at the surface, but return to the sea floor for periodic molts. This one looks like it has recently molted.
Oh wait, it’s just a stick.
Also posted in response to this week’s Friendly Friday challenge theme of “Something Learned.” See more responses here.
When I was down at Kiholo recently, I saw this wandering tattler at the shoreline, hunting around for a bite to eat. I followed it for a while, from a distance.
It snagged a katydid at one point (second photo), but I didn’t see it catch anything else. It spent a fair amount of time around one particular rock (third photo), which caused a good deal of consternation for the a’ama crab that was there. I think the crab was a bit too big to fall into the category of prey for this particular bird.