Sealing the deal

Fishermen might fear their competition, but most of us are enthralled by their huge eyes and eerie calls. Joe Gibbs goes seal-searching and tries to understand why one British species is declining as another thrives

- Joe Gibbs

SCULLING his sea kayak in calm waters off the west coast of the High- lands, near Achiltibuie, Andrew Brownlow spotted a shoal of fish riffling the surface. Sea birds appeared as if from nowhere and began to swoop and feed. He paddled on slowly and watched the scene unfold, enjoying the spectacle as he scrutinised it with the professional eye of a veterinary specialist in the marine environment.

Suddenly, 30ft away, the ocean waters boiled up. The black fins of three orcas broke the surface and something delivered a hefty thump to the stern of the kayak. He turned to see a frightened young grey seal had hauled its 130lb weight onto the fragile deck. As Dr Brown- low strove to trim the craft under its unsteady cargo, it dawned on the seal that it had escaped one predator only to share a precarious perch with another. To the relief of both, the hitchhiker slid off, but stayed swimming alongside, maintaining eye contact as if to say: ‘I might have to do that again, if you don’t mind.’

It shouldn’t happen to a vet, as they say, but for Dr Brownlow, director of the Scottish Marine Animal Stranding Scheme (SMASS), which investigates the causes of death of the seals, porpoises, dolphins and whales cast up on our shores, this was a welcome, if dramatic encounter with a living specimen.

The current population dynamics of the UK’s two indigenous seal species are puzzling Dr Brownlow and his SMASS colleagues. Greyseal numbers are sitting at their highest-ever level in the geological history of the North Sea area. The shores of the UK, principally of northern Scotland, where greys have doubled since 1970 to 120,000, are home to more than one-third of the world’s grey-seal population. Meanwhile, UK harbour (or common) seals have declined by 50% since 2000 to 36,000.