Another post on the WordPress photo challenge theme of ‘serene.’
While waiting to board a boat to see the wonders of Hawaii’s ocean life, this green sea turtle obligingly drifted through the blue-green water alongside the quay. Green turtles generally appear to have an unflappable countenance, but the slightly surreal clear water adds a particular air of serenity I think.
This week’s WordPress photo challenge theme is ‘serene,’ and I thought I’d use that as my prompt for the next few posts.
First up are the Onomea Waterfalls at Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden north of Hilo. Here, the falls are full with winter rains. In the summer the flow is less. It’s a beautiful, calm setting and, while it’s a popular spot with visitors to the garden, an early arrival should ensure maximum serenity.
For more information about Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden, go to htbg.com.
A week or so ago, I posted (here) about a temporary electrical substation that sprang up on the edge of Hawi to facilitate a change in the local distribution network. A few days ago, the specifics of that change made itself felt here when the house was without power for four hours or so. This outage was planned and communicated so it wasn’t a surprise.
What was a surprise was that I hadn’t anticipated the road to the house being blocked by electic company trucks for a couple of hours. What that meant was that the plan to be away for most of the power outage got off to a rocky start.
The work they were doing was replacing the small transformers on local poles with ones that operate on a new voltage, a transformer transformation if you will. At least that’s my understanding of what I was told. When it comes to electicity, I push a plug into a socket and the light goes on. If it doesn’t, I whack the lamp a couple of times and that often helps.
It’s hard to believe that the spiky, menacing-looking caterpillar above transforms into the beautiful passion vine butterfly, seen foraging on lantana flowers.
Most of the time, black triggerfish look like the lower photo, a fairly uniform black, apart from two bright pale blue lines at the base of the dorsal and anal fins. However, when they become aroused or agitated, their colors can change, and this color transformation can happen very quickly. Sometimes it’s just the brilliant blue lines radiating from the eyes, sometimes the flush of yellow or orange on the sides, sometimes the blue-green lines along the side.
This black triggerfish gave me the full display, and rather than swimming off, it hung around and presented a broadside view. It’s possible it was defending its territory or perhaps some eggs.
I took the photo and swam on, not wanting to bother the fish more than I apparently already had.
Waimanu is a monk seal who spends most of her time around the Big Island, one of the few to do so. She has given birth three times here, and recently gave birth to her fouth pup. She won’t leave her pup to feed until it’s ready to fend for itself, usually around six weeks. Because of this, she feeds up, ahead of giving birth, and attains enormous size.
The top photo shows the contrast between the huge mother seal and her small pup. Over the next six weeks, if all goes well, she’ll steadily lose weight while the pup will grow quite quickly. Eventually, the pup will lose it’s black coloration and look similar to its mother, the transformation complete.
’Aimakapa Fishpond, in Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park, is a good place to see the endemic Hawaiian stilt. Mostly they’re seen wading in the shallows, probing the mud with their long beaks. On this day, however, they took to the air.
I enjoy taking photos of birds in flight, but it’s a challenge. Challenge number one is getting them in the frame. Then there’s the small matter of tracking them and getting settings right. I’m constantly experimenting with the best way to get the picture. Usually I find that by the time I’m organized they disappear behind some trees or settle down again on the flats.
This time the birds were unusually cooperative. They headed out over the water, circled back and returned from whence they came. And they did this more than once so I was able to get a bit of practice in.
I do like seeing birds shot, photographically speaking, against a clear blue sky, particularly the stilts with those long, pink legs. But I also like the context of the water and greenery surrounding the fishpond. I don’t know what the white birds are as this fleeting pass was as good a look as I got. They might be some kind of gull, though gulls aren’t especially common in Hawaii.
For more information about Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park, go to nps.gov/kaho/index.htm.
This would have been a good photo for a recent WordPress challenge, peek, but I took this after that was over. However, it also works for this week’s challenge of ‘experimental.’
My underwater photography setup is not a spiffy camera and a bank of lights, but a point-and-shoot Canon S 90 in a waterproof housing. It doesn’t have tremendous zoom capabilities so I’m constantly experimenting with ways to approach fish so I can get a decent close photo.
Taking photos in areas where fishing, spearfishing, and fish collection are banned makes things easier. Fish in those areas seem to know they have less to worry about, at least from humans, so they’re less inclined to dart off. Elsewhere it’s a different story. Often I can get reasonably close, but when I raise my camera toward them they tend to zip away, possibly thinking it’s a new type of spear gun.
The best approach I’ve found is to be as quiet as possible in the water and just drift toward something I want to photograph. In this instance, I was puttering around when I saw this giant porcupinefish headed my way. I like these fish with their big eyes and a body tapering from the huge head back toward the delicate tailfin.
This fish spotted me and dipped down behind a large lump of rock and coral. I waited, but it didn’t reappear. I eased forward, keeping the rock between me and the fish. Still no sign of my quarry, so I slid to one side and saw the tailfin fluttering. Ah ha! With my camera ready and a gentle flip of my flippers I moved to the other side where I found the fish peeking out and giving me this look. I snapped a photo and an instant later the porcupinefish pivoted and headed the other way at speed.
Despite their ungainly appearance, giant porcupinefish are good swimmers and it was soon a good distance away, but when I got home I was happy to find that I’d got this shot. I also like how the goldring surgeonfish in the photo looks suitably startled by the whole encounter.
Graham's Island 