BY HILL AND SHORE
Angus Martin
I don't know if HEDGEHOGS much frequent beaches for food, but, for the record, I saw one at Saddell Bay on 9 October of last year. I was on a call-out with the Coastguard, returning along the beach with two colleagues, and training my torch in the darkness ahead of me, when I saw the creature foraging in the belt of rotting seaweed on the upper shoreline. When I stooped to examine it with the torchlight I saw that its snout was flecked with sand. It didn't show any inclination to curl up, but watched me fearlessly with its tiny black eyes.
Hedgehogs give birth in the autumn, so bear them in mind when clearing garden debris, and especially when lighting bonfires. Watch out for them too, on the roads, and in cattle-grids, into which they sometimes fall and are trapped and starve to death.
The British Hedgehog Preservation Society exists to advise on the care of injured, sick or orphaned hedgehogs, to encourage the young to respect and value wildlife, and to fund serious research into the behaviour of hedgehogs. Its address is: Knowbury House, Knowbury, Ludlow, Shropshire.
On 25 March of last year, George McSporran and I rose two RED GROUSE on the moorland at the head of the Inans Glen. There can't be many of them out on the moors now, because they are seldom encountered, though it has to be said that one has virtually to walk on to them before they'll get up with their distinctive heavy whirr of wingbeats.
The last time, before then, that I saw any on these moors was in August 1988, when my wife and I rose eight. They were, I suspect, doing exactly what we were doing - feeding on blaeberries.
On the subject of grouse, I remember a story about one Donald Ferguson, the Torrisdale piper, also known as 'Wee Donal Ban', who died in 1896. He was out on the hill with the shooters, and, when the party halted for refreshment - their 'twal o'clock' - the beaters were asked, by one of the gentleman there, to understand that they were about to receive a particularly fine sample of the water of life, being 'at least thirty years old'. When the drink was finally dispensed, the measures were perceived to be of questionable benefit. Donald, who was noted for his sly 'peasant' humour, held his measure up and squinted at it. 'Thirty year old. Gosh, but she's sma' for her age!'
I was in the Inans on 7 October of last year with a Post Office colleague, John Brodie, and, as we were descending the glen, we saw a large concentration of GOATS on the beach, some of them feeding. Both sheep and goats habitually feed on seaweed cast ashore. In the winter months, when vegetation is sparse, the value of seaweed as a supplementary food must be considerable. In all we counted thirty-one goats, the greatest flock I have yet recorded on that coast.
As we were leaving the bay, we saw another hiker coning in, acconpanied by two dogs. This was Agnes Stewart, and she wrote to me the following day to report that she had seen, to the north, the big group that John and I had disturbed in the bay, and, still farther north, near Sron Garbh, another group of eight or nine goats. There were, therefore, between the Inans and Machrihanish, on that day, some forty goats sighted. Taking into account the near certainty of there having been more between Craigaig and the Galdrans, the true figure is probably fifty-plus, which represents a thriving stock. There is still another flock in the Largybaan area, to the south, but I haven't of late had an opportunity of reckoning its strength. No doubt it still numbers in excess of twenty.
It remains to be seen how Mr Ron Dixon's clearance of the sheep stock from Ballygroggan will affect the goat population. It'll be a long-term study, assuming the sheep clearance isn't reversed in the coming few years, and I would welcome the observations of others. Information required: number of goats (with a special count of kids, if possible), when sighted, and where, please.
In my account of OTTERS in Kintyre in the last issue, I attributed to Mr Donnie McLean the sighting of three young ones on the shore near Macharioch. He tells me that he saw only one.
Reports of otter sightings continue to reach me. Mrs Dorothy Gray of High Ballimenach Farm, saw two on Kilchousland beach on 15 December of last year. She had her terrier with her, and it was the dog which excitedly led her to the rocks where the creatures were concealed. Mrs Agnes Stewart encountered three - one adult and two juveniles, apparently - at Bordadubh in mid-afternoon of 1 February.
Mr Neil McEachran reckons he saw, on 15 March, no fewer than four otter cubs sporting among rocks on the shore of Davaar Island. He watched them at close range for about ten minutes. They were aware of his presence, but unperturbed. There were, of course, no adult otters around at the time, otherwise the delightful spectacle would have been short-lived. In the way of such sightings, he was without his camera, which he normally keeps handy in his rucksack. He has been seeing otters occasionally on the island over the years, but that encounter was his most exciting.
If 1990 was - for me, anyway - the 'Year of the Otter' in Kintyre, then 1991 must surely have been the 'Year of the Mink', a non-celebration we could have been doing without. I'm not suggesting that MINK appeared here only last year - the Atlas of Kintyre Vertebrates records them, ante-1975, in the Carradale-Skipness area - but it was only last year that evidence of a fairly widespread southerly presence materialised. Indeed, there is a distinct possibility that some of the 'otters' that are being seen (and will continue to be seen) are, in actuality, mink.
One was sighted in Glenbreackerie last summer by my brother-in-law, Mr Malcolm Docherty, who was fishing the burn there.
A local fisherman, Mr Billy Wareham, discovered one aboard his boat the Glen Maye, at Campbeltown Old Quay in August. He took it to be a kitten at first, seeing only its face, but realising what it was, he left it, and after returning several times with 'sightseers', he finally found it gone.
Another fisherman, Mr Campbell Keyte, discovered one aboard his boat, the Freedom, before Christmas. It was jinking among the fenders - used car-tyres - and his main concern was that it didn't get below deck. It resembled a ferret, he said, but its black colouring convinced him otherwise.
Mr George McSporran and Mr Arthur Thomson, his father-in-law, each had the experience of his terrier - the dogs are sisters - cornering mink among rocks at Craigaig and the Galdrans, respectively, and Mrs Jackie Neilson, wife of the farm manager at Lossit, Mr William Neilson, spotted one in the burn that runs through the estate garden.
A dead specimen was got at Loch an t-Soluis, the pond at the head of Lossit Glen. (This name, incidentally, is a curious one and worth commenting on. It translates as 'The Loch of the Light', a reference to its former function of supplying water for the generation of electricity, and must surely be one of the last - if not the last - Gaelic place-names coined in South Kintyre.)
The first British mink-farms were established in the 1930s, and before many years had passed it had become obvious that escapees ware perfectly capable of surviving in the wild. Once established, most feral mink lose their light colouring and become dark-brown - almost black - with only a marking of white on the lower jaw and perhaps also the throat.
Mink - which are native to North America, and not dissimilar to the ferret, but having a long bushy tail - ought to be seen more in the winter, when much of the ground cover is gone, and when, moreover, they concentrate their predations on fish, but I heard little of them last winter. Still, there are fewer people out walking in that season.
It remains to be seen to what extent their presence will be detrimental to other wildlife. Bird populations are certain to suffer, and there is another certainty - mink are here to stay.
On 18 July of last year, I saw a ROE DEER stag at the head of the Inans Glen, my first sighting of deer on the northern part of that coast. He took off down the north side of the glen, and presumably later made his way back to the inland forests. Funnily enough, Jimmy MacDonald had asked me earlier in the year, at the Inans, if deer were likely ever to travel that length, and my response was to dismiss the idea: which goes to show that the obvious answer isn' t always the right one.
BLAEBERRIES (also known as blueberries, bilberries and whortleberries) were abundant last summer, as they usually are. They come in July and reach their prime in August, thus avoiding the occasional September storm (one of which blighted the bramble crop last year). In any case, they grow close to the ground - usually among heather - and are less exposed to weather. Unlike most soft fruits, they are remarkably free from insect attentions. One may find an odd ant or spider or suchlike on them, but in all my years of gathering I think I've seen two maggots on blaeberries. They are tight-skinned and won't receive the eggs of insects.
The blaeberry (Vaccinium myrtillus) is really quite unmistakable. The leaves are ovate and serrated, on low shrubby stalks. The berry itself is blue-black, and perfectly round but for a flattened top. They are, at their biggest, the size of an average blackcurrant, but are generally smaller than that.
Two other species of edible berry, crowberry (Empetrum nigrum) and - but much less commonly - cowberry (Vaccinium vitus-idaea) can somtimes be found growing close by, but neither of these is as succulent as the blaeberry. The crowberry is much smaller, black-skinned, and has a certain dryness to it - crunchy with a bitter aftertaste - and won't stimulate an appetite for more. Its leaves are long, thin and rough to the touch.
Until recent years, I had been accustomed to eating blaeberries only in a casual manner, stopping to gather a few handfuls in the course of a day's hiking. But in the summer of 1987, George McSporran mentioned to me that there was an abundance on Ben Gullion, and told me where to go to find the berries at their thickest. I was rather sceptical of his description of the bonanza that awaited me, but my scepticism was soon dispelled. I subsequently spent almost every evening throughout July of that year on the hill in all weathers, and finally - before I exhausted myself and brought on a fever - had gathered som 140 lbs. We made wine and jam and pies with the fruit, and gave away and froze it by the bagful.
I have never repeated that orgy of collection, but each year since, have made sure that there was time to spend on Ben Gullion and on the Ballygroggan moors, where blaeberries are also to be found in easily collectable quantities. Indeed, since discovering a good patch on the lower slopes of Ben Gullion, it has been possible to turn the interest into a picnic occasion. The children come along too, but they typically eat more berries than they pick.
Towards the end of October of last year, George was still finding berries, quite edible and in reasonable quantities, on Ben Gullion. On 7 December, incidentally, I found a small BRAMBLE bush with a few berries still on it above the Piper's Cave. I sampled one and found it edible, but - not surprisingly - rather unpalatable.
MUSHROOMS were scarce last year, especially the common field mushroom. They never - at least on my customary patches - quite got going, and I had to content myself with trifling quantities. Horse mushrooms were, as usual, available in modest, but reliable, quantities. They grow mostly on old arable land and tend to start coming around July and continue until the end of October, but are never as abundant as the smaller field variety when it peaks in favourable conditions. Since, however, a big specimen can measure eight or nine inches across the cap, only one is needed to make a meal. George McSporran keeps a photograph of a horse mushroom - one of several gathered on 31 October of one year - sitting on kitchen scales, which register nearly 2 lbs.
Horse mushrooms are susceptible to maggot infestation, and there are times when it's good fortune to find one in ten that hasn't been riddled to ruination. The maggots usually eat their way up through the stalk from the root, and tunnel the cap in all directions. I haven't yet discovered what insect or insects the maggots develop into, but that question could be simply enough answered by keeping an infested speciman until the maggots metamorphosed.
I used to pick mushrooms and then examine them for infestation, but in recent years have adopted the kinder method of simply breaking away a small section of the cap-edge and checking it for the tell-tale tunnelling. There is always a danger of over-picking mushrooms. It should go without saying that it makes sense to leave some specimens to spore.
The horse mushrooms are usually to be found in exactly the same spots as in previous years. one can go to a particular part of a hill - to a certain knowe or a corner of a field - and expect to find a few coming through at some stage of the season. I shan't disclose where I - and George, another inveterate gatherer - go for the horse mushrooms. One tends to be protective in these matters - we don't want others on our patch ( if for no other reason that the crop might not stand intensive predations).
There is a particular method of picking mushrooms - don't tear them from the ground, but twist them gently until they break free. Fungi are the fruit of the fungus plant proper, which is a complex net of fine threads - the mycelium - and the plant can be injured by the rough handling of its gifts.
I much prefer the horse to the field mushroom. The flesh is firmer and stronger-flavoured, and, sliced up and fried briefly and energetically, has an almost mat-like texture and appearance. Its fragrance is indescribably delightful.
I found one on the top of a hill a couple of years ago at the very end of October, but couldn't bear to pick it. Sleet was lying all around, and an icy wind was blowing, yet, there it was, the supposed epitome of still, humid autumnal days, its ravaged cap tilted to windward. I almost felt like sticking a medal on it for endurance, for just being there.
I was struck, while collecting folklore and social history from the old people of Kintyre in the 1970s, by the lack of any traditional knowledge of mushroom. Country folk seem - at least in the nineteenth century - not to have had any interest in eating mushrooms. I wonder how this trait compares with other parts of Scotland. Mrs Archie Menzies has told me that her mother occasionally used to make a ketchup from mushroom, but that aside, the potential of fungi appears to have been forgotten or neglected in these parts until, within the last two decades, cultivated mushrooms became popular and stimulated an interest in their wild - and superior - relatives.
Most beachcombers will be familiar with the egg cases of skate and dogfish, collectively known as MERMAID'S PURSES, a name which evidently has been known since Ancient Greece, and derives from the resemblence of the cases to coin purses of the time. The spurdog is ovoviviparous, carrying its young in the uterus; but the other two species, the lesser spotted (locally, moorlach) and the greater spotted, or nursehound, produce horny egg cases which attach, by tendrils, to seaweed, a single fish eventually hatching from one end of the capsule.
These dogfish egg cases are seldom longer than about three inches in their dried state, are narrow, amber-coloured and semi-transparent, and feel more like plastic than anything purely natural. Marvellous objects, indeed.
The egg cases of the rays and skates are quite different, being broader and black-coloured. There are no fewer than eleven distinct species of the genus Raia taken in British waters. Some monsters have been taken in the past - there is, in my book The Ring-Net Fishermen, a photograph of such a giant (perhaps 8 feet from snout to tail-tip, and 5 feet across) caught in the Kilbrannan Sound about 1935 - which brings me to the real point of this account.
The generality of skate egg cases in their dried-out state measure no more than 5 inches long (including tendril-stumps), but a couple of years ago George McSporran showed me a specimen, which he had picked up in the Galdrans, measuring 6 inches long by 3 across, minus tendrils. The case was covered with a fawn-coloured fibrous coat which gave it more a vegetable than an animal appearance.
Nothing very remarkable so far, but in January of this year, also in the Galdrans, I found a fresh egg case lying on top of a belt of washed-in wrack. In its moist state, it measured 8 inches by 4, and later lost an inch or so either way in drying out. That one too had a fibrous cover, and close to one of its edges a neat circular hole which suggested a hatching exit. I have seen such holes in smaller specimens too, and Mr Neil Short of Glasgow, a retired fisherman, confirms that observation.
The record find, however, belongs to Morvern Carmichael in Machrihanish, whose specimen, wet, measured 10 inches by 6. It was found in May of last year on Machrihanish beach.
I sent George McSporran's case to the Natural History Museum in London. Mr Patrick Campbell, of the Department of Zoology there, admitted the impossibility of identification to species level without an embryo. "There exists," he wrote, "no comprehensive literature which could be used as a reference. Only a few have been described and identified with certainty."
I can't help but wonder if we aren't seeing, on our Atlantic beaches, evidence of the great deep-water rays that live beyond the nets of our fishermen; but the answer isn't forthcoming, yet.
There is a project on FLINT going on at the National Museum of Scotland. Mr Bill Baird and Mr Alan Saville - geologist and archaeologist respectively - are seeking information on the occurrence of unworked flint in Scotland.
Some archaeologists feel that high quality flint artefacts (or the raw materials) must have been imported from north-east Ireland or England, while others have argued for the use of naturally transported materials. The compilation of a locations source-file should help solve the problem.
I shall be undertaking a survey of the beaches of South Kintyre - i.e. from Campbeltown round to Machrihanish - where, in my own experience, flint is most commonly found in Kintyre. The flint-containing chalk deposits in Antrim do continue beneath the seabed off the Scottish west coast, and are a possible source of flint here. But information is needed, and I would be grateful for any reports of unworked flint occurring outside the area I'll be looking over. I have never discovered any flint on beaches north of the Campbeltown-Machrihanish line, but that doesn't necessarily mean that no flint occurs there. The information required is:
1. The date and location (a six-figure grid reference, if possible).
2. The frequency with which finds occurred during a one-hour search, e.g. were they a) rare (fewer than 5), b) common (more than 5), c) abundant (more than could be carried away).
3. The size of the flints found, e.g. were they a) smaller than a hen's egg, b) medium-sized - bigger than a hen's egg but smaller than a large apple, c) large - bigger than a large apple.
Flint is, of course, so hard as to resist fragmentation other than by the practised technique of 'knapping' or by violent casting on to rocks. If you are uncertain that it's flint you're dealing with, examine the specimens of unworked material in Campbeltown Museum. Most flint pebbles and lumps on the Kintyre shores are shiny-black and chalk-encased, but some light-coloured stuff appears. Once identified, flint is unmistakable.
Page 2: Loup Hill. 16th MAY 1689 - The First 'Battle' of Dundee's Jacobite War - Part 2
Page 3: Harping On - Part 2
Page 4: The Perseverance / Share Fishing
Page 5: The Carradale Shark Fishery
Page 6: Bits and Bobs and Here and There incl. The Bell - Somerled - Skipness
Page 7: Three Lochs in North Kintyre
Page 9: The Book Review Page - 5 Books Reviewed
Page 10: Coopering in Campbeltown: Developing a "Craft" Archaeology