From Storm to Sanctuary
Donald describes a grey seal pup rescue
It’s Sunday morning. I am quietly relaxing on the sofa with a hot cup of tea, whilst gales, hail and rain were raging outside, when the doorbell rings! My friend Ludo is on the other side of the door, with report of an “abandoned” seal pup at the local beach.
Okay, wellies on, wrap up against the Arctic gales and venture forth – to the rescue.
I was not overly concerned as it is quite normal for grey seals to abandon their young after about three weeks; from about 14kg at birth they might reach 30kg by the end of the lactation period, their mother’s milk is around sixty percent fat which obviously encourages an incredible growth rate.
The white coat is moulted off and the young seal is left to fend for itself as the mother goes cavorting with the local bull seal which has been hanging about for weeks.
Our timing was not great, setting out across the beach just as a dark storm was approaching, however we were well clad in expectation, November was not going to be as unexpectedly mild as October was.
As we approached the far end of what is known as the ‘first beach’ here in Durness we saw the seal, quite high up against the dune but lying on the track that leads up to the MoD station at the end of Faraid head.
This was not good. Military traffic would be expected soon. This made our decision easy – we would have to move it.
The good news was the pup did look quite healthy, if a bit thin, but its eyes were clear, so were the nostrils, and it was very alert, attentive and responsive with no apparent signs of injury or wounding. We thought it best just to move it to a safer place nearby.
I had brought a blanket just in case, this I carefully draped over the seal and, wearing gloves – a seal pup has strong sharp teeth – I grabbed the head end, my colleague supporting the main body, it was a lot heavier than it looked. We found a more sheltered area not far off amongst rocks, in this situation it was remarkably well camouflaged, yet still close if the mother came back looking for it.
The closest “hauling out” place for grey seals here in the northwest is Whiten Head cliffs at the North east end of Loch Eriboll, where many scores of seals use the boulder beaches and caves to calve in. The place is so wild and remote you wouldn’t be entirely surprised to see David Attenborough pop-up from behind a large boulder delivering a discourse on the preciousness of our grey seal population.
Grey Seals Halichoerus grypus, [hook-nosed sea pig], have an estimated Scottish population of around 120,000 which equates to a remarkable 40% of the world population. These seals are now rarer than African Elephants. They are protected now, but they did not used to be, being regarded as voracious predators of salmon, they were shot by coastal salmon netters and salmon farms.
Their numbers are slowly recovering, but I can’t help but wonder how they might be impacted by global warming. The white coat of seal pups is a vivid reminder of their Arctic origins—perfectly camouflaged against snow and ice, yet conspicuously vulnerable on the beaches of our local coastline. For those first few critical weeks, they stand out a symbol of adaptation caught in flux. Despite their progress, grey seals remain on the IUCN red list, a reminder that their future, like so much of our natural world, is far from secure.
With the pup safely tucked away in its rocky refuge, we turned back into the teeth of the storm, the wind driving rain and hail against us as we trudged across the beach. There was little more we could do now but hope that it would find its way, perhaps even reunite with its mother if she returned. Finally home, soaked to the skin but relieved, I wrapped my hands around a fresh, hot cup of tea and sank back into the sofa, listening to the storm rage on outside. Nature is resilient, I reminded myself, and the best thing we can do after an intervention like this is to step back and let it be.
Donald Mitchell is a High Life Highland Countryside Ranger, a keen observer of nature and wildlife, he dedicates his time to documenting and sharing insights about the natural habitats in North West Sutherland. With a particular interest in marine life, he aims to help others gain a deeper understanding and respect for the delicate balance of our ecosystem.