Fish don’t really do it for me, but watching wild Atlantic salmon spawning in the river Nethy this afternoon was awesome. Desmond Dugan – Abernethy’s site manager and resident Ray Mears (but better) had mentioned last week that salmon were “on the move”. I had no idea. Realising that my regular visits to the river bank behind Forest Lodge were not bearing out his assertions, he took matters in hand. “12.30” he said. “I’ll show you some salmon”. When a man, with 25 years experience as senior site warden for one of the RSPB’s flagship reserves offers his time and expertise – you don’t think twice. Posters and flyers advertising my imminent ‘Feed the Birds Day’ event (Sunday 30th) were scattered in all directions as I raced off for my wellies. I saw lots of shimmering mint leaf beetles glistening on alder leaves – still reluctant to fall; I saw red deer prints in sandy banks; I saw a dipper looking for an invertebrate lunch; I saw a grey heron glide high above us – disturbed by our stealth and afternoon trespass. I would never have seen the salmon though if I was by myself – a large adult female (hen) lying in the riffles digging out her redd. Now I know I sound like an expert, but I only learned this today. Ahem … a redd is a hollow carved into the gravel by the upstroke of the hen’s body and tail. She uses the current of the river to suck up and drag the river gravel further down stream. She digs several redds and spawns a fair few hunderd eggs in each one. She’s smart. Well she’s female! She let’s the river’s natural processes do the leg work. You see, each redd lies upstream from the last so the current deposits drifting gravel on top of the previous redd, covering the eggs and offering protection for the tiny alevins which subsequently hatch in early spring. Alevins stay buried in redds devouring their yolk sacs until they emerge as fry 4-6 weeks later. Clever eh? Once pointed out by Desmond’s keen eye, the redds were obvious, visible by clean exposed white gravel
(thanks to Tay District Salmon Fishery’s Board for the image). Once I go my eye in to see the redds, it was just a matter of waiting for the light to illuminate a long sinuous shadow, outlining not one … but two … large … adult … salmon! A male was waiting in line (literally) to fertilize her eggs. I watched spell bound as the red flash of her tail surfaced briefly every so often and waved at me from the shallows. It was pure dead magic. My first real wild Atlantic salmon, returning home from the deep sub arctic waters of Greenland. Four years at sea, and they are able to smell their way home – they recognise the aroma of the waters of their birth. How moving; how incredible; how amaaaazing is that!? I like salmon.
I also like BTCV! I have been doing a fair bit of engagement with my own community of late. It started off with a residential break – down in Dumfries and Galloway mid September. It was briefly mentioned in my last blog. One Natural Talent Apprentice, three Volunteer Development Officers, two special volunteers, one hard working project officer and me – had a week to clear reeds from the moat of the imposing Caerlaverock castle. Camaraderie and solidaritry got us into our chest waders every day to fight and struggle with sucking smelly mud, sore backs, arms and (in Dave’s case) feet (because his waders were too small) from barrowing tons of heavy wet reeds. But it was fun, the sun shone and the gang were ace.
My five BTCV Natural Community compadre’s came to visit me at Abernethy for two days. One day (as Alex indicates in his blog) was spent reflecting, sharing top engagement tips and turning problems into opportunities (cliché but true!). The next day we spent helping the wardens with ‘dead wood creation’. What a contrast! The previous days hot air generated our energies and turned us into a primed and pure mean BTCV muscle machine. Basically we winched over plantation Scots pines to create space and light around granny pines, which also improves blaeberry cover – good for invertebrates and capercaillies and adds another ‘pulse’ of deadwood to improve forest ecology. We were mighty. We were tough. They went home tuckered out!
BTCV in Munlochy (Black Isle) came up to Abernethy for the day to find out what I’ve been up to; so I told them (organising events, introducing Health Walks in my local patch, writing news letters, speaking at a Wood Ant Symposium in front of an international scientific audience … eeek!). And then we had tea and then we went out to enjoy the reserve.
And finally – my BTCV training budget funded a fantastic John Muir Award Leadership Training weekend down in Northumberland (early October). I’d never been to that part of the world so this presented an opportunity not to be missed.
There, now I’ve caught up with myself, although I’m having problems inserting photos …. again. So sorry this is mainly text but I want to get this blog out before it becomes old news. I’ll try with the photo thing again when I get a minute. Thanks for reading though.