Minks and seals – but no minkes
The first day in the field. Everybody is still fast asleep but it doesn’t matter as the visibility is bad. The sea is topped with white foam caps. I watch a wall of cloud roll in from the South. By 8:30, the sea has disappeared in a rainy mist. The foghorn sounds its wake-up call.
Luckily it isn’t too loud from behind the lighthouse. We sit in the gloomy kitchen and watch the rain splatter against the windows. The opposite cottage’s chimney stands like a dark sentinel against the featureless gloom.
By 10:30, the nearby isle of Muck is in view, by 11:00 we can see South Uist in the outer Hebrides 75 km away — somebody remarked that if you don’t like the season in Scotland just wait 5 minutes and another will come along, that is particularly true around here.
Soon, the sun shone again gloriously, but the wind came from the West topping the sea with white caps. There is no point spotting Minke whales in these conditions, they are at least 10 times as difficult to spot at Sea State 4 than at 1. So we go for a walk.
After climbing over the stone wall by the road and clambering over the lichen- encrusted rocks that hug the shore, we reach a little patch of white beach, our very own secret beach. It can be seen from the lighthouse but the prospect of fence-hopping and rock-climbing keeps the other visitors well clear.
Dozens of jellyfish have washed up on the coarse white sand. After a while we spot a mink sticking its head out between the rocks. It scuttles across the beach, then swims over to another group of rocks and disappears in a blink.
We turn back and see a grey seal sticking its head out of the water. It remains nearly motionless for more than 5 min until we are out of sight.
So, we had minks and seals but no Minkes. Have to stop, somebody wants to check their e-mail. I have to vacate the machine. No place to write, Ard…
Tags: Lighthouse Blog, Tag Index
Denni