Moray Firth Winter Survey 2008

'Warnings of gales in all areas.'

BBC Shipping report, Sunday 11/11/2008. 6pm.

For several days now, we have been unable to get out to sea. The Shipping forecast today speaks of gales and even severe gales in some Scottish areas. So, it is not getting any better!

Frustratingly, we need reasonably flat seas to have a chance of spotting the animals and also making sure that we keep our methodology consistent. Once the conditions gets over sea state two, we cannot effectively survey. The white tops that form on the waves at sea state three and over hide the cetaceans; the spray that a cetacean surfacing or diving makes could easily be confused with a wind-tousled wave. (This doesn’t mean that you cannot see them sometimes in such seas – or even rougher conditions – but it does mean that we cannot survey.) Then there is the pitching of the boat, especially if the waves are coming side on to the transect line that we are trying to follow, which can also make life very difficult for observers and, of course, there are safety issues too with such conditions.

So, as we anticipated would be the case at this time of year, we just have to sit and wait. (There is data-filing to do and also cetacean spotting practice from the shore, to improve out identification abilities, so we are not just sitting around thumb twiddling.)

This also means that we get to spend more time at the WDCS Wildlife Centre at Spey Bay. And this is always a treat because, at anytime of year, this magical place there the brown tannic waters of the River Spey meet the North Sea, is always rich with wildlife. Whilst the ospreys and the swarms of swallows that were so prevalent here in the summer have wisely migrated away, swans, geese and ducks are now present in some considerable numbers. The ducks include golden eyes, which seem to favour the river mouth and the extraordinary robust sea-going eider ducks which prefer the more salty waters. There are also whirling flocks of starlings in the evening and healthy numbers of corvids and gulls patrolling the shore, shifting through the great mounds of sea weed and other debris freshly washed onto the pebble bar that protects Spey from the North Sea.

A day to Remember

The sky is a mass of ragged fast moving clouds and occasional patches of blue and it is bitterly cold this Sunday morning, but this has not stopped a gathering of perhaps one hundred well-lagged people converging on the main square of Buckie. A couple of members of the WDCS survey team have come here too. This is Remembrance Sunday and as we approach the eleventh hour of this Remembrance Sunday, when we traditionally take time to remember those lost in war, the roads are closed and a small but proud procession marches along the main street. There are soldiers in uniform, army cadets, the boys brigade and others, and they are led by an impressive sergeant-major and three standard bearers.

A short service follows in front of Buckie’s rather beautiful war memorial and wreaths of poppies are placed at its base by various representatives of the local community. A piper resplendent in green tarten plays a lament. The drum major gives two hearty strikes to his big base drum and two minutes of silence follow. Only the ceaseless calling of the gulls and the crying of a small baby permeate the respectful pause.

In the background, as only those with a view of the sea can see, the Buckie lifeboat passes by.

Then, after a few words from the officiating priests, the crowds disperse. The Boy’s Brigade marches back up the main street, every boy heartily blowing his bugle, and then they and others disappear into churches and halls, no doubt glad to get out of the biting wind.

WDCS observations break records…

The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) has kindly looked into the significance of the high numbers of birds that we recorded at the end of our survey on Wednesday.

They have confirmed that the Black Guillemot count of 97 (mainly off Findochty) is the highest ever recorded in NE Scotland (Moray, Aberdeenshire & Nairn), and the Great Northern Diver count (36) is the second highest ever in Moray & Nairn (there were 47 in Spey Bay in May 2005) and 36 is over 1% of the estimated Great Britain wintering population.

With thanks to Ian Francis.

‘Thar she blows’.

Day three of the survey is another long and difficult one. The air temperature has fallen, everyone’s breath is visible in the air before the wind whisks it away and the valiant observers are huddled at their various posts. Despite warnings of fog, it stays outside of the survey area today (although it lurks along one horizon) and we have a deep gloomy cloud cover and grey seas to look at.

Once again the Gemini Explorer with Davy at the helm traverses the survey lines. As we go further from shore, the sea roughens a little and the Gemini is rolling; but not enough to spoil the survey.

Along the way, four porpoises in a row are spotted off the Port bow. They are travelling fast; intent on doing something that we will never understand.

However, for much of today’s survey there seems to be little life around under the sullen skies. This changes when the data logger (briefly warm and snug in the main cabin) receives a call reporting the sighting of a minke whale. There is a thunder of feet as team members on break launch themselves out onto the deck (some even forgetting their wooly hats) to try to see the animal. But alas the sighting is only fleeting and the whale is not seen again.

The last part of the survey takes the team along parallel to the southern shore of the Moray Firth and towards our port of Buckie. Here there is an amazing number of birds sitting on or flying over the now relatively flat sea. A colleague from the RSPB who has joined us today identifies and counts 38 Great Northern Divers (spectacular large dark birds with a long neck and long spear of a beak) and some 97 Black Guillemots (or ‘Tysties’ as they are called in Scotland). He postulates that these high numbers may be regionally significant and, of course, no one has come out this way before to record these concentrations.

As we parallel the coast still several miles off of the pretty town of Cullen, a call comes into the boat from a friend on shore. A dozen or so bottlenose dolphins are in a bay off to our port side. Sure enough binoculars pick them up where the naked eye failed, and this observation confirms both their presence in the area and also their coast-hugging habit at this time of year.

Later in the day, back on land, we find survey leader, Pine, and the Science Director sitting for a prolonged period in the dark and drizzle in a car in the car park of the local Lidl’s supermarket. They are studying a lap-top computer and they are doing it here because they cannot link to the internet closer to the dock where the Gemini now rests. Three weather websites suggest the wind and waves will pick up before midday tomorrow. (Deciding whether or not to survey on any particular day is a very difficult call, especially when worse weather can be seen coming in over the weekend. However we try to only set off on days when the weather is good enough for the survey because it saves fuel and money and also means that we will not be unnecessarily tiring the team) It is decided not call off the survey for the next day.

Pine

Venturing into the Gloom.

Not much sign of the snow-tipped mountains on the far side of the Moray Firth as we slip out of harbour this morning at 7am. This is because it is both dark and foggy. Soon we are in our own weird little world of sea – a flat circle of scarcely moving water bounded by walls of mist.

We proceed on through the gloom towards the beginning of the first transect line that the Gemini Explorer (our survey vessel) will follow out into the deep waters of the Moray Firth. Seemingly with some reluctance the gloom slowly lifts; the sea stays reasonably calm and the team starts to survey. Once again we are doing the ‘Gemini rotation’: there are two observers on the top deck (one on port and the other facing starboard). A third stands on the bow. Inside one person is manning the data logger, sitting behind Davy our skipper and the final person on duty is sitting in the rear cabin manning the computer monitoring the hydrophone, which stretches two hundred metres behind us at the end of a thick blue cable. Every 30 minutes everyone moves around.

The Gemini takes us out to again close to the Beatrice oil platform and we turn towards it and zig zag around its exclusion zone before turning off onto another transect line. Today the more distant waters seem quiet. There are few seabirds.

Later in the day the boat becomes the focus of seabird attention and a group of gulls (presumably thinking we might be a fishing boat) follow us and are joined from time to time by several juvenile gannets (the ‘chocolate’ ones that are part of this year’s offspring, trying their wings for the first time over a wintery sea).

Along the survey lines a few porpoises pop up to be counted and at least one seal believes he should be added to the data set too.

The sun shows sign of setting at around 3pm and by the this time much of the cloud cover has lifted … eventually we are treated to a magnificent sun set looking south back towards port and a sliver of crescent moon adds to the atmosphere. It might be November, it might be cold, and it might have been raining but this is truly beautiful.

Night falls. The lights of Buckie and the foul smell resulting from the recent dredging of the harbour welcome us back to land.

Ten small stowaways.

The WDCS autumn survey of the outer Moray Firth is now underway and started in an unexpected fashion with a sighting of some small mammals.

The team went on Sunday to the Wildlife Centre in Spey Bay where equipment had been stored along with some food left over from the previous leg of this research, which was in August. The Wildlife Centre which sits at the point where the Spey River meets the sea, was basking in glorious sunshine. (This was quite a relief bearing in mind that last week brought freezing conditions and unseasonably low temperatures to the last days of October).

As the team retrieved the kit bags from the old stables behind the wildlife centre, we became aware that we were not entirely alone. First one mouse, then another and then a third jumped out from the bag, which contained various essential pieces of equipment, including our binoculars and distance sticks. From the excited scrabbling in the bag, there were more mice yet to come. Regrettably they had obviously made their homes inside a couple of the cloth binocular cases and, being famously incontinent, the mice had left their strong acrid odour behind.

Seven mice remained scurrying around inside the bag when all the equipment had been lifted out. They were liberated into the local nature reserve.

However, this was not quite the end of the mouse saga (and indeed the smell may stay with us for some time) because various food stuffs had also been stored in the old stables and the mice, perhaps not surprisingly, had found their way into some of them. These of course were discarded (and we noted that they seemed to like some breakfast cereals more than others) but the small rodents had also left their mark on the sealed cans and jars. A sticky mixture of mouse urine, droppings, grains and cereals had adhered to many surfaces. Out came a bucket, cloth and some hot soapy water and the food stuffs were slowly cleansed. This is not quite the glamorous start that we expected to the survey. (We will obviously be more careful with our storage in the future.)

(strong>Towards the snowy mountains.

By 6.45 am Monday, de-moused equipment (this is a technical term) and crew were lined up in the dock in Buckie harbour ready to board the Gemini Explorer, our survey vessel for the next two or so weeks. Our crew is a mixture of WDCS staff and volunteers, including the resident volunteers who have been based at the Wildlife Centre through the summer season and two new volunteers who have now moved there for the winter.

Most of the equipment was already lashed in place but there were the frenetic last minute fumblings with the two data-logger computers to try to make them ‘talk’ to the hydrophone and the GPS. As the Gemini edged daintily from the harbour, various combinations of leads were being tried and buttons being pushed with increasing vigour. The old IT recommendation of turning things off was also deployed. Eventually, before we reached the start of our first transect leg, everything was up and running and the long blue hydrophone cable was running out behind us.

A surprisingly flat sea and sunny conditions appeared with sunrise and, so we headed out towards the deep waters in the middle of the Firth spotting birds and searching for cetaceans along our predetermined lines as we went. The weather forecast (doubly surprisingly because of the severe weather conditions last week) promised light wind and only a small threat of rain.

However, out close to the Beatrice oil field, the Gemini started to sway increasingly enthusiastically from side to side and white peaks appeared on many waves. A ‘sea-state’ three appeared as if by magic. Bad magic! Little change of spotting animals in these conditions; so, reluctantly, we turned back towards shore. Out in these choppy waters was a surprising density of seabirds: gannets including many juveniles (‘chocolate gannets’) in their brown or brown and white immature plumage; herring gulls; guillemots, razor-bills and puffins. (So if you are wondering where these famous little black and white birds with the multi-coloured bills go in the winter, we can tell you that the puffins are presently out on the high seas, but without the festively coloured bills at this of year.) An hour (and some sea-sickness) later, the seas started to calm and a couple of porpoises showed up. (In total 5 were seen during the day.)

'Chocolate gannet'.

By the time we got back to Buckie, the seas were flat, the air was surprisingly warm and the team was starting to peel off some of the multiple layers it had donned to keep warm.

A five hour day at sea was a very reasonable start to the WDCS autumn/winter survey and tomorrow the forecast is again good, so we expect more of the same.

Jenny celebrating the hydrophones Cath in data logger mode.