DIARY OF THE BRITISH PRIMITIVE GOAT SUPPORT
GROUP’S VISIT TO KINTYRE,
5 - 10 AUGUST 2002
Raymond Werner
We arrived at Machrihanish at around 9.15 pm
on the Monday, and due to the fact that the journey had taken 13-and-a-half
hours, allowed ourselves the luxury of almost two minutes’ rest before we were
off to find the goats. Sadly, we were to be disappointed, as the goats had moved
on, and subsequent rumours that they had gone into Machrihanish to wave and
cheer at us as we passed through that fair settlement are entirely unfounded,
there being confusion between these and a puckle of sheep that were studying the
form of the last golfers of the day. We did, however, see common seals against
the backcloth of an incredible sunset, rolling ravens and hooded crows, the
latter being inspirational towards a possible study of the social interaction
between these and carrion crows.
Tuesday dawned dry with a near-impenetrable sea-mist that at first prevented me from finding my boots. Eventually I stumbled across them on my feet, having forgotten to take them off the previous evening; then we were away for the day, the intention being to cover all the coastal ground between Ballygroggan and Inneans Glen. On the map it looked like a Sunday afternoon stroll, a mere walk in the park, but just when we thought we could make a few yards’ progress over flattish ground, we encountered yet another ‘wee glen’. Going around these mini Grand Canyons on terra-not-so-firma required gliding over blanket bog - which accounted for the earlier and cryptic comment from Malcolm Holder of Ballygroggan, ‘I hope you’ve brought your wellies’ - and taking inland diversions that gave us several good sightings of the outskirts of Glasgow. There was also bracken in profusion. What can I say about bracken? We estimated that there was not less than three hundred million square miles of the stuff on the Mull, and all week I puzzled over why it was that it was over eight feet high and dripping with water only along the routes we had to take.
But ... the goats. Absolutely wonderful. We located four groups that day, and they were everything we had hoped for but hardly dared to expect in terms of their behaviour and social organisation. The Leac Bhuidhe group comprised nannies, billies and kids, and we were able to get good film of them later that evening as they fed along the cliff-tops. Continuing south, we next located a small group - no kids, but associating with mature males - at Ton Bhan. These goats proved very tolerant and we were able to get quite close to them on the following day. At Craigaig there was another female group, again no kids, but associating with mature males. This group was the best we saw, and became very special to us as a symbol of the unique character and value of the west coast goats as a whole. We also found the remains of a mature female on the beach. She had obviously fallen from the cliff above and had a broken jaw as well as other injuries. We took the head and horns for analysis, and estimated her age to be in the tenth/eleventh year. We located no other goats between Craigaig and Inneans Glen, apart from a solitary mature male on a beach. At Inneans Glen, a large and mixed group that included kids had been disturbed off the beach by other visitors. Reaching them required a quarter-mile descent at 30 degrees in wellies, with little guarantee that the group would wait around for a photo call. As it turned out, the exertion was well worth it, as the goats behaved impeccably and provided excellent footage for analysis. It was at this point, according to my colleagues, Les and Shirley, that our guide, Malcolm Holder, was heard to exclaim: ‘Oh, no, can’t you give him a pill to slow him down?’ Very unfair comment, I might add. I was only making my third descent for ‘just a few more pictures’. Looking south, we could make out a group of not less than nine goats feeding between the Inneans and Uamha Ropa. We did not follow this up at the time, as the ground south of the Inneans was on our Thursday schedule. As a bonus, we got a good sighting of a golden eagle as well.
Wednesday was another perfect day, and one in which we retraced our steps, squelch by squelch, to make a more detailed survey of the goats. They were very kind to us, and we got some additional good film of each group. In particular, I was able to get very close to the Ton Bhan group. Colour and markings were of great interest to us, there being a reasonable range. It does, however, raise issues with regard to genetic diversity and conservation of type.
On Thursday, we covered the ground on Largiebaan Scottish Wildlife Trust Reserve - between Inneans Glen and Dun Ban - by driving first to Largiebaan itself. By the end of the day we had identified three more groups along that coastline and felt reasonably happy that we had seen most, if not all, of the goats between Rudha Duin Bhain and Machrihanish, a total of around 100. Again, it was a day of spectacular sightings of the goats, supplemented by the appearance of an adult eagle. We got fairly close to the group a little south of An Cirein, this group including kids, and found a large group with kids and mature billies at Rudha Duin Bhain, and a small female group near to Dun Ban. We were pleased to note that the goats along the whole of the coastline we covered were of a unified type.
We got back to base around 8.30, allowing ourselves 30 minutes to microwave a meal, before setting off for the north of Kintyre to see a herd of Cashmere goats at Rosehill. British Cashmeres are based on feral goats of Primitive type with added breeds such as Tasmanian ferals, Swiss, Icelandic, etc. The opportunity to see this herd of goats proved invaluable to our overall study, as we were also covering issues relating to introgression* and its significance, if any, to the Kintyre feral stock.
Friday was a different kind of day, as was the weather. We headed up to Carradale, in the rain, to see the feral goats there. As is always the case, we started our search at the opposite end of the point to where they actually were, and after an hour of wading through soggy bracken the rain stopped, the sun came out and we stumbled across the whole herd on the beach. The Carradale ferals were in full rut, providing good footage. They are of a completely different type to those along the west coast, being of largely modern rather than genuinely Primitive type. Again, they made an excellent study in relation to our main work on the west coast old Primitive type. Mink ran across the rocks as we studied the goats, and we also saw red-throated divers feeding their young.
Tired but euphoric, we headed south to Davaar Island for the piece de resistance of our week. ‘Always save the easy bit to the last’ is our motto, and it has never failed. Except this time, of course. Oh, humiliations of humiliations! We tramped the isle from top to bottom and sideways in our wellies, with ne’er a sight of our little four-footed friends. These were supposedly the friendliest and easiest to find of all the herds, and of them there was no trace. With our chins on our chests and throbbing feet, we made our way back over the Doirlinn, encased in a glowing sunset and wilting waterproofs. And then it happened. A couple that passed us with strides that were twice the length of ours (well, they were half our age, after all!) reported seeing goats near to what they called ‘the caves’. That was it. The blisters no longer stung, the temples no longer throbbed, the headaches seemed to evaporate. We were headed back to our goats at a pace that matched the incoming tide. No matter that they turned out in reality to be sheep, our spirits had been sufficiently revived for us to plan a hearty celebration meal, otherwise known as use up all the food that is left over to save having to find somewhere for it in the car.
Sausages, bacon, eggs, beans, toast and all sorts of unmentionables were lined up by the cooker. But (why is life full of ‘buts’?) there must be something different about Scottish frying-pans, leastways they definitely have a mind of their own. We soon lost one another amidst the swirling smoke, although opening the front door gave us faint outlines and we bravely carried on cooking in the near-lethal gloom. There was a fraught moment when someone’s wallet nearly went into the toaster and another when the baked beans looked remarkably like peaches. Still, beans in a sticky, sickly fruit syrup could set a trend, as could bacon that can be snapped like a dry twig. Then the bugle sounded the retreat (or was it the fire alarm?) and we hastily withdrew to the clear air of the sitting-room with what we had cooked more by Braille than by sight. Even now I have a definite remembrance of being asked how I would like my eggs, but have absolutely no recollection of replying, ‘As black as possible, please’. And (I couldn’t write ‘but’ again - you would think me paranoid) ... the sausages. If ever I get a coat of arms, it will be crossed sausages, those sausages, encompassing a Kintyre feral goat. I haven’t seen that unique sooty look and grotesque gnarling since camping with the Boy Scouts a half-century ago. Perhaps the Scout troops of the 1950s got their frying-pans wholesale from Scotland. It certainly needs looking into.
Saturday dawned without any major outbreak of dead man’s tum, and we were out early to do a last study on the nearest group of goats. You know, true friendship is being able to sit with your fellow man and woman for nearly five hours, watch goats intently, and not have to say a word. The sighs were more than enough. Well, that and not blaming the person whose inspirational comment about getting everything in that nice frying-pan nearly burnt the cottage down.
With great reluctance, we left the Mull at around 2.30, stopping off to see red deer, Highland bulls and Eriskay ponies on the way south.
Overall, the study was an
immense success, given the time afforded. We are as sure as we can be that the
feral groups along the west coast are of the old British Primitive type, and, as
such, in conjunction with the increasing rarity of the breed, need recognition
and preservation. There were, however, concerns about the lack of kids, and also
the lack of goats in age-classes one and two. Although we did not have the time
to make an in-depth study, the overall impression was of an ageing population.
Also, in relation to breed type, there is a need to maintain the population for
both genetic diversity generally and the preservation of variability of type in
particular. We would very much like to make a more in-depth study of the goats,
next year if this could be arranged, and in the meantime a valuable piece of
work would be to record the developing winter coat of the goats. Possibly this
could be carried out in conjunction with my visit to talk to the Society in
October.
*Crossing with other breeds and types - line no longer pure
No 52 Autumn 2002