Field Notes: Maui
Here is where I’ll be transcribing my handwritten notes from my work as a naturalist and my daily adventures in Maui, Hawaii. My notes will be italicized and most will be accompanied by photos and or videos. More recent entries will appear at the top of this page. Check back here frequently, as I will be updating this page often.
December 7, 2021, 9:00 AM
The storm that has battered the Hawaiian Islands over the past few days is not entirely behind us. The deep blue waters are covered in strips of brown dust and debris that have migrated from the land. Large swells forced many boats to remain at port. Still, though, the humpbacks were active. Breaches and tail-slapping were observed. Recent findings on the energy requirements of a humpback breach suggest it is about as energy intensive for a whale as a marathon is for a human. To muster the strength to breach after an epic migration during incredibly rough seas is remarkable. These creatures will inspire you at every turn if you allow them to
.
December 2, 2021, 5:00 PM
Mala Wharf
On the walk to the dive site entrance, the molts of Grapsus tenuicrustatus, the ubiquitous black crab that dot the rocks here, sit fried red by the sun littered the rocks that lead to the water. They lie in positions they would have occupied while animated, a sharp contrast to how they act in life. These creatures are nimble and agile, darting away far before I dare move closer than arm’s length away. As I enter the water the crabs, perhaps the same specimens that molted just hours earlier, clear a path. Turning back to look at them once submerged, they appear to undergo a chromatic shift, as the orange tinges that are mere accents above the water truly stand out below.
Fish are lively beneath the surface. Schools of all sort swim all about the wreckage. Bluespine unicornfish are particularly abundant today. Though wary of human contact, they gracefully slip about the wreckage in groups of roughly 20-30. If I get any closer than 20 feet, they too glide away. My ability to understand and approach the reef creatures of Maui is improving, but with daylight fading and my lungs tired from a full day, I move on to the furthest edges of the wreckage in search of predators. And, as if scripted, a nurse shark appears at the bottom of the wreckage. At around 6 feet, the creature laid in the sand. I approached at a respectful distance not wishing to disturb the creature as it enjoyed the last moments before awakening.
December 2, 2021, 2:00 PM
Lahaina
A mother humpback whale and her calf bob on the surface. The calf spy hops a few times and turns over onto its mother’s back. The calf slaps its pectoral fin repeatedly before the mother and calf make a b-line for deeper waters. I’m unsure of what provoked them but their move was rapid. About an hour later, two adults surface together, approach the boat until they were about 300 feet away, make fluke up dives, and disappear. A pod of porpoising spinner dolphins, probably 100 strong, appear of the boat’s port side at roughly 4:00 PM. Nocturnal feeders, its likely these dolphins were making their way from the near shore waters where they rest out to sea.
December 2, 2021, 11:00 AM
Honolua Bay
Entering the bay and approaching swimming on the south side, an octopus presents itself in just eight feet of water. Sitting atop a boulder, it eyes me from below but does not recede until I dive down. As I dive down, he leaves only his right eye in sight as he slips behind the boulder for the half a minute or so that I am down. When I surface he returns to the top of his boulder and when I dive he recedes. Atop the boulder the creature dons a rough texture and sandy tone while in the crevice it turns smooth and dark to match the shadows. It leaves its tentacles out, perhaps not entirely distrustful of me. Octopus are creatures I have a tough time with. As naturalists, we’re taught not to humanize animals, but octopus are just so damn…human. Well, intelligent. I rush to think of ways to communicate to it that I am not a threat and wish just to observe him. I decide to keep a distance and move a few inches closer at each descent. This pattern continues for quite some time. After about a dozen dives down, the creature is no more inclined to stay in my presence and begins to slink away. After leaving himself exposed without a rock behind his back, he jets off and again perches atop a boulder. He perched himself atop another rock about 10 feet off, and wishing to annoy him no longer, I set off.
Fish thrive in the protected waters of the Honolua Sanctuary, even in the presence of tourist and surfer pressure. Perhaps the most poignant proof of this is the immense size of the parrotfish that feed at the periphery of the reef. They almost double the size of those I’ve seen elsewhere, their massive beaks indicative of a diet filled with essential minerals. The sound of these beaks scraping the algae off of the reef is audible. Fish thrive in and around all of the incredible geographic features of the reef. Perhaps most notable today were the schools of convict tang. Named for the black jail-cell like bars that mark its sides, they school in groups of over 100. Grazing in these large groups not unlike cattle, they move from boulder to boulder as the tides grip their small bodies. Mixed in with these small herbivores was one conspicuous outlier, a yellow trumpetfish. Waiting for an opportunity to strike, the beast lurked in between members of the school, mirroring every movement of the school. I follow from a distance for a while, but needing to reach my next destination, I had to turn in before getting a chance to observe the feeding.
Remarkably, on my trip back, I visited the rocks where the octopus had been an hour prior and it was indeed still there. The location was nondescript but certain clues made it easy to find. Perhaps the most prominent was the seven or so collector urchins littered with shells, perhaps strewn about by the octopus after meals.. It slid between the rocks and again donned its dark colors again, this time with a metallic blue streak adorning the bottom of its tentacles.
November 27, 2021
Mala Wharf
A really fruitful and insightful day of diving. I have lots of notes, thoughts, photos, and videos, but I’ll be using those for something a little larger in scope.
November 25, 2021, 10:30 AM
Mai Point Beach, Maalaea Bay
Absolutely perfect visibility. I have never seen anything like this in this area. Vis rivaled that of Molokini. Of course, I had not charged my camera’s battery, but I was able to snap one good shot of two admiral nudibranchs. Potentially a mating pair, they trudged along the coral rubble. Because it was the Thanksgiving holiday and I had to go home and mash potatoes shortly, I did not have time to investigate. The reef’s southernmost point was noticeably void of fish presence for a warm afternoon. I speculate there may be a few reasons for this, that being a lack of free floating microorganisms upon which to feed or a heightened risk of predation due to clear conditions (a Google Scholar search yielded no evidence to back either of these theories, nor do I have deep convictions about them. Just conjecture). Moving northward along the reef however, achilles tang and bluespine unicorn fish proliferated. Still though, fish activity was higher closer to the corals as fish seemed to lack the desire to venture out. Multiple varieties of wrasse, Coris, and butterflyfish made peering into any given patch of cauliflower coral more than worthwhile.
At the usual turtle cleaning station, juvenile turtles no greater than 18 inches in diameter were tended to by all manner of grazers. These smaller turtles seem much more eager to flock together than the large males that populate the reef. They dominate wide swaths and feed for what seems like an eternity, stopping only to breathe and adjust their buoyancy as the afternoon winds descend on Maui. All told, I counted 17 turtles from the time I entered the water to when I exited it, a figure I don’t plan on matching any time soon.
November 16, 2021, 7:45 AM
Kamaole Beach
Visibility immaculate upon entry from the beach park’s north end. Turtles rested on the sand at a depth of about 10-15 feet between the reaches of the volcanic rock that infiltrates the nearshore area. I estimate roughly 8 different turtles were found, ranging from small juveniles to large females. Large schools of bluestripe snapper accompanied these turtles, moving as a slow monolith, moving only when I got within arms reach. This undaunted behavior makes it no wonder their invasion has been so problematic on these reefs, as they lack fear of natural predators. Schools of cornetfish and achilles tang congregated above disparate patches of mounding corals. In the spaces between lava fingers, small schools of juvenile trevally were found. Cauliflower coral grew from different rocky patches, providing shelter to small damselfish.
November 14, 2021, 8:00 AM
Molokini
Magnificent frigatebirds hover high above Molokini, catching the tradewinds and circling some 100 feet above the islet. Some rest on the rock, with one particular specimen struggling mightily to tend to his plumage while keeping his gular pouch inflated. Even from hundreds of feet away, his red neck is a commanding sight, though it is not conspicuous enough for any females this morning, as he sits alone for more than an hour with his pouch never wavering from its maximum size.
Under the water, the reef is particularly lively. Above the reef’s deepest reaches, black triggerfish greet vessels hoping for someone to violate the sanctuary’s laws and offer them a morsel. The reef at Molokini extends vertically from the walls of the crater, with the deepest reaches home to large corals that offer refuge to a great number of different fish, while the shallows housed those looking for refuge from the predators below. Juvenile parrotfish, marked by the duller color scheme of their initial phase, proliferated on these shallow reefs, while larger males patrolled the depths. One of those predators was on full display this morning, as an adult yellow-edged moray snaked through the cracks at the reef’s bottom looking for an adequate spot to hide. Passing by more than a few opportunities for a quick meal, it appeared sustenance was not front of mind.
November 9, 2021, 9:00 AM
Mai Poina Beach, Maalaea Bay
Poor visibility (15ish feet at inner edges of reef, 30+ at outer reaches) brought on by strong, wind-driven surface current. Winds were so strong that a sort of reverse thermocline formed and the water was at its warmest roughly 4 feet below the surface. Reef ecosystem appeared inactive during beginning of my time in the water, with action gravitating the higher visibility sections of the reef. Brittle stars and pencil urchins proliferated in turbid areas. Large male green sea turtle appeared in the same spot as usual, bucking the cleaning station and veering toward the reef’s western reaches. Moving into deeper waters, roughly 10 cornetfish appeared as soon as visibility cleared, begging the question of whether I had missed more. They swam roughly 10 feet below the water’s surface and allowed me to approach. The largest specimens were roughly 2.5 feet long, the shortest slightly longer than a foot. Yellow tang and whitespotted box fish appeared in relative abundance today. Humuhumunukunukuāpuaʻa and black tangs proliferated in divides on the reef. At almost exactly 10 AM, as if on queue, turtles reported to the flats along the reef’s beds of rice coral for their cleaning, with others reporting to areas overrun with algae to feed. One smaller turtle takes a particular interest in me, approaching my camera without fear and veering off at the last possible moment.
November 7, 2021, 10:00 AM
Mai Poina Beach, Maalaea Bay
Idyllic conditions. 84 degrees and sunny, slight winds blowing down from Haleakala. Negligible swells and perfect visibility. I head straight out to reef’s edges and am greeted with large schools of bluespine unicornfish. Timid, they take off when I get within 10 yards or so. Large schools of achilles tang intersparsed with a variety of triggers and butterflyfish. Yellow tang appear particularly active today, feeding atop the cauliflower coral and unbothered as I hover above. When I dive to meet them, they turn onto their right side and peer up at me with their left eye. With each inch I dive further down they recede further into the reef. On the whole, fish on these reefs are decidedly more timid than many I’ve seen elsewhere. The most intriguing sight of the day was a massive male turtle that approached me head on, appearing from a sandy haze and darting toward the area where the honu congregate. His shell was particularly covered in plant matter, but he seemed uninterested in cleaning and perhaps was seeking attention from females.
