The wonders of wildlife migration

Millions of years ago these amphibious creatures found homes further inland and eventually abandoned the water altogether. They were the forefathers of today’s seals and became extinct, while those that remained by the coast found they were in less danger and, learning to swim, hunted for food off-shore. They lived entirely in the water, except for briefs spells on land when the sun was warm, and during the breeding season.
Generally, there are two types of seals to be found around Argyll’s coastline - the grey seal, of which there are literally thousands, and the common seal which is not quite so plentiful as its name suggests. 

During the autumn, when the equinoctial gales send the great Atlantic rollers crashing against the rocky cliffs of the west, grey seal bulls fight with one another for their mates. One male, if he is large enough, will collect a whole harem and guard it against all-comers. Males can be nine-foot long and often weigh up to seven hundredweight (cwt).

Seals migrate to traditional calving grounds in October and what a spectacle they make coming in to have their pups.  Seal numbers around our coastline have shot up dramatically over the past few years. Some say the population is too high and why salmon and sea trout no longer run up west coast rivers as they used to. Visitors like to see seals in the wild and imagine them to be soft and cuddly; others believe them to be the souls of drowned sailors.

I have watched grey seals calving on Soa Island, off Iona, and Fladda and Cairnaburg Mor in the Treshnish Isles as they idle and bob on a full gut. Here there are sheltered bays and sandy beaches allowing the heavily pregnant cows to heave themselves out of the water and upwards, sometimes many yards beyond the high-water mark, to produce young among bracken covered boulders. Here, in their wake come white-tailed eagles to feed on the after-birth. When the pups are born and licked clean by their mother, they are almost pure white and the picture of innocence. But beware, they have strong jaws and teeth as sharp as razors. Woe betides any man or beast who comes between mother and child.

Perhaps Mother Nature will step in, as she always does, and reduce the population to a sustainable level by giving them a type of flu which will be beneficial to both animal and man.

I suppose it could also be said that there has also been a good crop of tourists in the last few years. Too many, where there are single track roads and limited facilities. The trouble with tourism is that once it starts and the genie gets out of the bottle, it is impossible to put the lid back on. VisitScotland and selfish advertising must take a major share of the blame where places such as the Quiraing, the Jacobite monument at Glenfinnan and the Fairy Pools in Glen Brittle (which no one had heard about until recently) and are now almost impossible to get near, let alone park by.

The Rev Norman Macleod of Fiunary (1812-72) was ahead of his time when, in 1867, he wrote of Sithean na Raplaich in his Reminiscences of a Highland Parish.

“We back this view from the highest hill in the parish for extent and varied beauty against any view in Europe! It is the Righi [king] of Argyleshire and given only what, alas! is not easily obtained, a good day, we know not where to find a more magnificent outlook over God’s fair earth. I name not its name, lest inquisitive tourist hunt it, and make it a lion, and get it at last into guidebooks.”