Mid-Wales August 2017

A trip to Wales is starting to look like an annual fixture in my diary.  After managing to ‘avoid’ visiting for several years, the promise of a good discussion about rewilding lured me to North Wales last autumn, and now the promise of an even better workshop on rewilding drew me back again last week, this time to mid-Wales.
The main event was at the Centre for Alternative Technology in Machynlleth - there’s a separate blog post about the excellent workshop I was doing there.  
The Centre for Alternative Technology is well worth a visit if you are in the area - it’s an inspiring glimpse of many ways of living more greenly - and there’s a splendid water-powered cliff railway if the walk up from the car park to the centre looks too daunting.
CAT Water-powered railway
Centre for Alternative Technology 

CAT isn’t the only attraction in the area. The Dovey Estuary is beautiful, and has the RSPB Ynys Hir reserve on it’s southern side.  
Dovey Estuary 
Ynys Hir

A bit further south gets you to Aberystwyth - a mix of holiday resort and university town looking out onto Cardigan Bay.  And it’s got it’s own cliff railway too - the landscape in this part of the country seems to lend itself to cliff railways. 
Aberystwyth marina
Aberystwyth
Aberystwyth Pier
Aberystwyth cliff railway 
Looking onto Cardigan Bay

On the north side of the Dovey is the rather sleepier (at first glance at least) town of Aberdovey.  Is this where one retreats to when the bright lights of Abersytwyth become too much?

Aberdovey Beach

And the weather.  It’s fashionable to make jokes about the Welsh weather, and indeed the idea of a water-power cliff railway would be of limited use in a drought zone. It did indeed rain (and rain very heavily) for some of my time in mid-Wales, but the sun also shone.  In fact the sun managed to shine brightly pretty much any time that my timetable required me to be outside, so all in all, I really can’t complain about the Welsh weather

Whatever next? Maybe south Wales next year!

Rewilding 101

I was delighted to be able to spend a long weekend on a three-day introduction to rewilding course at the Centre for Alternative Technology recently.  This course (and I certainly hadn’t seen anything similar elsewhere) gave a really thorough and engaging introduction to many strands of rewilding.   It was good to finally get to visiting CAT, I'd been a shareholder at one point in the very distant past, but had never managed to get round to visiting.

CAT Water-powered cliff railway

The course helped the 15 attendees (from a huge range of backgrounds, some with lots of really good relevant background knowledge!) to get their heads around topics as diverse as our changing relationship with nature, historical attitudes to nature and wildlife, the many ecological, geographical and political drivers relevant to rewilding, strategies for rewilding, land management and financial issues and also the development of a geographical understanding of rewilding. All this was illustrated with an excellent range of case studies both on screen and in the countryside around the Centre in Machynlleth.

Field Trip 1 - south of the Dovey Estuary

Dynyn

Dovey Estuary

Details

One of the things that really struck me was the vast range of different approaches to rewilding that can and have been tried.  I was already aware of two of the extreme approaches – from the top down (the approach of Paul Lister at Allandale  and big carnivore introduction) to the bottom up (Alan Watson Featherstone and Trees for Life and restoration of the Caledonian Forest).  I was also already aware of the sterling work being done by the John Muir Trust in returning a range of properties to a more natural (and sustainable) condition, and of Rewilding Britain starting to establish large scale pilot projects in England, Scotland and Wales.
I hadn’t previously taken on board the range of active and passive strategies for rewilding (based on how much one wants, or is able, to intervene in a landscape), or indeed of the more scientific strategies for figuring out what ‘should’ be in a particular landscape (as has been done at Carrifran in the south of Scotland).  I also hadn’t given much thought to be importance of ecological networks – allowing different areas of recovered or recovering land to interact with each other. I certainly hadn’t really understood a lot of the funding streams that drive what currently happens in the British countryside (although Brexit has the potential to divert or dam a lot of those streams).

Field Trip 2 - The Old Quarry at CAT - abandoned 60 years ago

Guess the age?  Trees above the CAT Quarry

Passive rewilding underway above CAT

I had already been trying to get my head around the practical aspects of rewilding with a view to looking for a suitable area of land somewhere in the country – but I certainly hadn’t got to the stage of contemplating using drones to replant inaccessible areas. 
If you want to watch some videos about rewilding you could start with these 

Thank you to Kara Moses for co-ordinating the whole event, and to Mick Green, Steve Carver and Dave Gurnett for sharing their expertise and enthusiasm.

My next task is to figure out if I can find somewhere to put my new found knowledge to work. 

Puffin Watching, July 2017

I might have told a few folks that my main reason for being on Shetland last weekend was to cut the grass.

That wasn’t entirely true.  I really went to spend a few days hanging around on the cliffs and head-lands while the puffins were still around.  July is often peak puffin season – the breeding adults are all still hanging about on the cliff tops (and bringing food into the nests) and the non-breeders seem to be around too, presumably wanting to make sure that they don’t miss out on the big departure day. 

On a warm, still sunny afternoon (yes, those do occasionally happen on Shetland) there can be hundreds of puffins around on cliffs at Sumburgh Head.





It’s not just the puffins, at this time of year there are lots of other breeding birds around too, from fulmar and kittiwake high on the cliff faces to razorbills and guillemots a bit lower down.  There are rafts of shags and eider in the voes competing for water space with the guillemots.  And along the drystone walls you might also see wrens (feels like they’ve had a good year this year). 





Elsewhere, down at Grutness and on Scat Ness, there are colonies of terns.  In past years I’m sure the terns were happy to ignore passers-by until they got close to the colonies.  This year I think the terns have been transformed into bronxie-trained avian vigilantes – as soon as you get anywhere within sight, the terns will swoop down with the clear intention of drawing blood.




Oh, and in case you were still wondering, I did get round to cutting the grass. Twice. Probably to frustration of the local rabbit population.


30 Days Wild, June 2017

Another June, another 30 Days Wild.

It's been fun to spend another June with the aim of doing something (at least) a little bit wild each day.

I was fortunate enough to get to start the month in Svalbard in the High Arctic - and got the month off to a flying start by spending the day on a small boat in a fjord watching Fin whales.

1st June

After that there have been quite a lot of hedgerows and wild flower verges, but the 30DaysWild theme does always encourage me to look a little bit closer - and occasionally to cast a vote based on wildness and environment issues.  I've also taken the time to stop off and see the swans and geese around the University of Warwick campus.


30 Days Wild

And now that we're into July, maybe I'll just keep going with another 31DaysWild.

1st July

Previous iterations  2015  and 2016

Pyramiden

The phrase “Russian Mining Colony” doesn’t exactly conjure up a particularly positive set of images.  If you add in “Arctic” it’s very easy to find words like “bleak” and “isolated” coming to mind too.

But for much of the 1970s and 1980s the Russian Mining Colony at Pyramiden on Svalbard was one of the most sought after postings in the former Soviet Union.  The 1200 people (miners and their families) were well paid and very well looked after.  They had access to state of the art medical facilities (and not just measured by Soviet standards), to excellent cultural facilities (including the worlds most northerly grand piano), to fabulous sports facilities (including the worlds most northerly swimming pool) and to plentiful meat and diary (including an indoor farm which produced so many eggs that they were exported to other parts of Svalbard).  They also had access to a (near) 24 hour-a-day dining room and to the most northerly bust of Lenin and their very own KGB station.  All this was provided to encourage miners to come and dig coal from the high-level seams within Pyramid Mountain. 

All this came to an end in 1998 when the people were repatriated and the buildings and mining facilities were abandoned. Over recent years one of the accommodation buildings has operated as a small hotel and there are a few permanent residents who look after the buildings and on occasion provide guided tours.  

Pyramiden lies on one of the northern fingers of Svalbard’s Isfjorden (ice fjord), and as the name would suggest access is dependent on the state of the ice in the fjord.  During the winter it is possible (subject to the weather) to get to Pyramiden by snowmobile, but in the spring this becomes too dangerous and would-be tourists need to wait until the ice is clear enough for tour boats to negotiate the water.  The date when the first boat of the season is able to get through is a very moveable feast, but fortunately for me this year it was 1st June (and I was onboard).

When I’d booked the trip I’d been told categorically that we wouldn’t get to Pyramiden and even once we were onboard the guide was extremely reticent to say anything to revise that view. However on chatting with the crew I was told that over the previous few days the boat (a mini-icebreaker) had been trying to break through the ice and on the previous day had got to within 150 metres of the dock before having to give up.   On our day, I learnt later, two other boats had a look at the ice and decided it still wasn’t navigable, our boat however was able to keep crunching away at the ice until we got alongside the dock.

From the dock we were bussed the short distance to the edge of town and then guided around the town before being given the chance to explore inside a few of the communal buildings.

Welcome to Pyramiden

Downtown Pyramiden from the Isfjord

Accommodation blocks and Pyramid Mountain

Constructed 1972

Some pre-war buildings still exist

Hero Wall - Employee of the Month pictures were once posted here!

Under the boards, heat pipes from the central boiler house

Northern-most Lenin, outside the Cultural Centre

79 Degrees North (and yes polar bears do still occasionally wander into town)

Heated (salt-water) swimming pool

Dining Hall decoration (just in case you forget what it's like outside)

Couldn't find the northern-most grand piano, this upright could have done with a visit from a northern  piano tuner.



North Atlantic Odyssey May 2017

Back in the 19th Century the boats used to set out from the northeast coast of Scotland in search of whales.  These boats used to head up to Shetland and then strike north towards the Greenland coast in search of right whales and humpback whales.

Now-a-days there are still occasionally boats that set out from the northeast coast of Scotland in search of whales.  And as in the past they head up to Shetland and then strike north towards Greenland in search of whales.  There are differences.  The whales being sought are mostly orca and fin and minke whales, and the searchers are armed with big lenses rather than harpoons.  I’m guessing that the boats are rather more comfortable than would have been in the case in the 19th Century. 

Ortelius in Svalbard

I was lucky enough to be on the Ortelius when it left Aberdeen recently heading northwards in search of whales and hoping to be able to land on Jan Mayen island off the Greenland coast, before winding up in Svalbard.

If I’d done a bit a due diligence, I might have found out that in recent years this trip has on occasion suffered from wild sea conditions, seen very few whales and failed to be able to make landings in Jan Mayen.  Sometimes all three.  However when I found that this was a way to visit Jan Mayen, I didn’t do any such due diligence, I just paid my money and assumed that it would all work out right!

It’s nice that such naivety does occasionally pay off. :-)

We left Aberdeen on a calm Monday evening and headed slowly northwards, the Ortelius always heads slowly - top speed is about 10 knots.  By breakfast time the next morning we could see Fair Isle ahead of us, and by 09:30 we were being zodiac’ed ashore into North Haven.  It was a bit odd being 25 miles from the house on Shetland but not visiting there, it was however delightful to be back on Fair Isle, and I think I can honestly say it’s the first time I’ve arrived on Fair Isle not feeling seasick.  The Ortelius may be rather smaller than the Northlink boats that ply between Aberdeen and Shetland, but it is a lot bigger (and more stable) than the Good Shepherd that carries people between Fair Isle and the Shetland mainland.   On Fair Isle both the human and puffin population turned out in force to welcome us, and we got some glorious summer weather too.  

Shetland Puffins
Typical Fair Isle weather

Having had a little taste of Shetland, we were zodiac’ed back to the Ortelius and the serious business of heading north could start.   Jan Mayen was our next planned landfall some 1300 km away.

If the weather is wild this can be a pretty unforgiving area of sea - but if you get lucky it can be smooth and whales, while never easy to spot, get significantly easier to see.   This is particularly true as you get further north and the whales blows get clearer as the air temperature falls.  It’s difficult to not think ‘There she blows’ when you see a blume in the distance, and hearing someone excitedly shout this out loud is still one on of my highlights from the early part of the trip.  One of the bonuses of the slow moving Ortelius is it’s nimbleness in turning when a whale is spotted, and we had several episodes when we were able to get really clear looks at a range of different whales species during the two days it took to get to Jan Mayen.  

Northern Bottlenose Whales
Minke Whales

During these two days we saw big pods of long-finned pilot whales, lots of northern bottlenose whales (including a pair that dived right under the bow of the ship), fin whales and minke whales and orca too.  Cold flat seas are perfect for whale spotting, but when you’re seeing whales several kilometres away it can be pretty challenging to identify them, but I’d think that is something to list under ‘good problems to have’. 

As we had been heading north the expedition crew had been keeping us updated on the Jan Mayen weather.  We knew that we’d had remarkably calm weather south of Jan Mayen, but Jan Mayen is (in meteorological terms, at least) a law unto itself.   The big feature of Jan Mayen is a very large active volcano - Beerenberg.  This volcano rises almost 2300 metres above level, is flanked by a series of glaciers and completely dominates the north end of Jan Mayen - the sheer scale of the mountain and it glacier collection make is a perfect breeding ground for catabatic  winds that can make landing on the few beaches very hazardous. It is claimed that the top of Beerenberg is only clear of cloud on 3 days each year.  It’s my sad duty to confirm that the day I visited wasn’t one of those days.  

Jan Mayen - weather/communication station 
Kvalrossbukta, Jan Mayen

We able to land at two sites on the island, at Batvika on the southern side and at Kvalrossbukta. on the northern side.  Although both landings were completed successfully we did get a brief glimpse of how fast the weather can change, as a rogue wave successfully swamped one of the zodiacs (finally dispelling any ambiguity in what is meant by a wet landing). 

After the second landing we cruised along the mouth of Engelskbukta (English Bay) hoping that we might get a glimpse of top of Beerenberg, but that is going to have to wait for another visit, before again turning north in search of the sea ice off the Greenland coast.  It’s about another 1000 km from Jan Mayen to Longyearbyen in Svalbard, but we opted not to follow a direct route. Instead we continued north in search of ice before turning east to get to Svalbard. 

It’s worth pointing out that this far North at this time of year there is 24 hour daylight - so we were watching for wildlife throughout the 24 hours each day. This meant that the ‘day’ would start with a tannoy message “Good morning, good morning, there are orca directly ahead of the ship”, and just as you were contemplating getting a bit of shut-eye in the evening -  “We think we’ve just spotted polar bears on an ice floe directly ahead”.  Both messages pretty much guaranteed to result in a frantic charge to the ships forward viewing points - and both happened on the same day.

Orca
Bears on Ice

As we headed further north and west we found much more sea ice - but not yet any well-defined ice edge, which is where we might have hoped to find a variety of sea mammals - as the ice became a bit more joined up we found quite a lot of hooded seals (a meal-time favourite of the polar bears) and recent polar bear tracks, but no further sightings of polar bears.

Hooded Seal heading for safety
Bear Tracks

At this point the calendar started to catch-up with us and we needed to head eastwards to get to our dock-date in Svalbard - and as we headed east the weather decided to give us just a little flavour of how things might have been during the rest of the voyage.  An afternoon and evening of rolling through the waves was a reminder that the seas in this part of world aren’t always like mill-ponds.

Stormy Weather

Once through the weather, we again got to flat seas, this time with blue skies too.  Our first Svalbard landing was Prins Karls Forland (an island on the western edge of the Svalbard archipelago).   The objective here was a well known walrus haul-out at Poolepynten where we were able to get up close to a number of walrus.  I’ve visited a couple of walrus haul-outs in this part of the world before and been pretty underwhelmed.  This visit was different - we had a number of curious walrus on the water edge alongside us and they were almost as interested in us as we were in them.  The fact that they were in the water (their element) clearly gave them the confidence to come really close to us - and to stay there too.

Walrus at Poolepynten

We also got a glimpse of the goretex-hooded tourist in the distance - these shy mammals (a little like their penguin cousins in the far south) huddle together for warmth on the ice-shelf.

Tourists

The final treat on the voyage was a brief glimpse of blue whales (the biggest of the whales) around the mouth of the Isfjorden on Svalbard.  And a reminder that some people do still sail these seas in boats that are a bit closer to the ones that the whalers used.

Blue Whale at the mouth of Isfjorden, Svalbard - and a glimpse of more traditional travel

The voyage really did live up to my hopes.  My first objective was to get ashore at Jan Mayen and to learn more about it.  Yup. My second objective was to see a variety of north Atlantic whales.  Yup. Got that.  And my third objective was to see polar bears again. Yes, again.

And the bonus - I think I’m now going to have to promote walrus in my standard arctic talk - they’ve much more interesting than I’d given them credit for.  Job done.

And the disappointment.  A few lucky people who were in the right place at the right time got a good look at a Ross’s gull (a rare gull, only found in the really far North).  I wasn’t one of them.  Still, got to keep something for the next trip to the high Arctic.

In all a thoroughly entertaining trip - a fantastic way to escape the pre-election news and a good way to met some lovely like-minded people.  I'm sure Oceanwide will be running a very similar trip next May too, but I'm afraid I might have used up all the weather luck.