Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
March 14, 2003
Hawaii’s mantis shrimp got their 15 minutes of fame recently when the New York Times featured them in a story. The article detailed the catch of a record-size mantis shrimp caught during the current dredging of the Ala Wai Canal.
I hated that story. The reporter described our shrimp as murderous, google-eyed, fish-shredding monsters. And the Ala Wai? It’s a smelly, silty, sewerlike compost pile; a habitat for tires, shopping carts and tilapia; a place teeming with infectious bacteria and rash-producing parasites.
According to this report, you’d have to be out of your mind to go anywhere near this place.
Well, welcome to the loony bin. I’m writing this column in the Ala Wai Boat Harbor, the man-made basin at the end of this disgusting canal. The snap, crackle and pop of snapping shrimp serenade me through the fiberglass hull of my sailboat. And on a short walk down the mole an hour ago, I saw three Moorish idols, a trumpetfish hanging with several yellow tangs, and a huge pufferfish.
Since my boat slip is located at the outer side of the canal where some flushing occurs, I enjoy clearer water and more animals than people further inland. But even inside, near the marina, I have seen eagle rays, threadfin jacks and sea turtles.
On really lucky days, I also see mantis shrimp.
Mantis shrimp are famous among biologists for their brilliant green, blue or red patterned shells. The shrimp also are well known for their stalked, compound eyes, which give them the best vision of all crustaceans.
Most of the world’s 300 mantis shrimp are tropical. They live in sand or mud burrows, or in cracks and crevices of rocks and coral. These creatures grow from 2 to 14 1/2 inches long, making the 15-inch Ala Wai catch a true giant.
Mantis shrimp were named after the praying mantis insect. Like their namesake, mantis shrimps’ forelegs fold under their upper bodies like jackknives.
Some mantis shrimp have barbed spines along their forelegs. These types lie motionless at the mouth of their burrows. When a shrimp or fish comes close, the mantis strikes with one of its two powerful forelegs and spears its meal.
Other mantis shrimps stalk clams, snails and crabs, disabling them with the heavy elbow of an unfolded arm. The blows of some mantis shrimp are so powerful, they can crack aquarium glass.
That big guy of the Ala Wai surely could have packed a wicked punch. The mantis grew so large because of an abundance of prey in the canal. This flourishing life is the result of plant and animal material washing in there when it rains.
Unfortunately, pesticides from our gardens and heavy metals from our vehicles also run into the canal, making marine catches from there unsafe to eat and giving the place a bad reputation.
No, the Ala Wai is not perfect, but compared with other city canals and harbors in the world, it’s pretty darn good. Others must think so, too. The waiting time for a slip here is seven years.
Years ago as a visitor, I strolled along this canal and harbor and fell in love with Honolulu. It still amazes me that snapping shrimp, reef fish and murderous, google-eyed monsters live right here in the middle of this city.
I wouldn’t keep my boat anywhere else in the world.