Swimming With Seals
Swimming with seals by Mike Deaton
Several
charter boats will take you out for the chance to swim with seals, off the coast of Lundy. Remember not to corner or chase the seals - it is up to them -they'll find you if they want to. The following is an edited version of an article I wrote for Devon Life, after an amazing day out on the Jessica Hettie.
We lie back soaking up the sun, watching the dramatic coastline slip by, as our skipper steers the little fishing boat through calm, azure seas, towards the island. Helpful hands reach out to steady us and take our bags, as we leap from boat to quay. We walk single file along steep, twisting paths; cross bubbling streams on stone bridges, binoculars ready, seeking large mammals or exotic seabirds. We clamber down to the beach using an ancient staircase, hewn from the cliffs, tracing the history of the island with each footfall. We picnic on the shore, then laze on a large flat rock to digest lunch. Back on the boat, we snack on fresh fish caught minutes earlier by our skipper. We snorkel in the waters of a marine reserve, famous for its coral and delicate sea fans – treading water patiently, hopefully - for this is the highlight of our visit: the chance to swim with a very large mammal.
We lie back soaking up the sun, watching the dramatic coastline slip by, as our skipper steers the little fishing boat through calm, azure seas, towards the island. Helpful hands reach out to steady us and take our bags, as we leap from boat to quay. We walk single file along steep, twisting paths; cross bubbling streams on stone bridges, binoculars ready, seeking large mammals or exotic seabirds. We clamber down to the beach using an ancient staircase, hewn from the cliffs, tracing the history of the island with each footfall. We picnic on the shore, then laze on a large flat rock to digest lunch. Back on the boat, we snack on fresh fish caught minutes earlier by our skipper. We snorkel in the waters of a marine reserve, famous for its coral and delicate sea fans – treading water patiently, hopefully - for this is the highlight of our visit: the chance to swim with a very large mammal.
Jessica Hettie arriving at Lundy
I could be describing a holiday on a paradise island in the Caribbean
or the Aegean – but all this took place on one blissful daytrip to Lundy Island
off the coast of North Devon. I hadn’t been sure it would turn out so
well. I’d ‘sold’ the idea of swimming
with seals to my daughter, Holly. But as a filmmaker I know it’s impossible to
guarantee even a glimpse of wild creatures. Then the weather turned against us
and I tuned into the forecast for inshore waters, checking wind speed, direction
and the height of the swell. But when Holly
and I and two couples from London finally cast off from Clovelly on the ‘Jessica
Hettie’ it was a glorious sunny day and our hopes were high. Clive Pearson, our
skipper, gave us the forecast, “south-east four to five, dropping to two.” When
winds ruffle the west coast of Lundy, the seals shelter on the eastern side,
and that’s where we’re heading. “If the wind turns east it could be hopeless,”
he adds. “But what will be – will be.” It
sounds like our skipper is preparing us for bad news! I try to interest Holly
in some of the other species we might spot underwater, like sea cucumbers or
spider crabs, reminding her that we’ll be swimming in the first marine
conservation zone or MCZ to be declared in the UK.
waits like a curious child by Nick Tyson
The wind swings to the east, the sea is choppy and Clive
tells us to keep our eyes peeled. “Seals don’t like it floppy” he says
worryingly and I wonder if he’s gradually lowering our expectations so that
when disappointment comes, we won’t throw him overboard. Suddenly we see a
dark, sleek head watching us above the water – and another. “How many seals did
you see?” Clive asks as we motor on past. “Two” says a Londoner. “Five!” Holly
and I chorus.
The boat stays offshore, so not to disturb the seals. This might sound odd as we’re clearly planning to disturb them, but Clive is adamant that we must not corner or chase the seals. We should tread water and wait. It’s their element. If they choose to swim up to us and say “hello” – great. If not bad luck! So Holly and I allow ourselves to be bounced around by the waves for about ten minutes. I’ve given up peering into the murky depths through goggles when Holly shouts “there’s one beneath you.” I come up for air, spluttering “where?” Holly points and finally Mum gets her eye in! A grey seal hangs motionless below us, facing away, but head turned towards us, like a curious child, not wanting to admit it’s interested in something, yet sidling gradually closer. Then one turns somersaults underneath us, stopping for our reaction or applause, then rolling again, like a dog dropping a ball, waiting patiently with yearning eyes for you to throw the ball. Another drifts up from the bottom, straight for us, disappearing at the last second – before repeating the same game.
The boat stays offshore, so not to disturb the seals. This might sound odd as we’re clearly planning to disturb them, but Clive is adamant that we must not corner or chase the seals. We should tread water and wait. It’s their element. If they choose to swim up to us and say “hello” – great. If not bad luck! So Holly and I allow ourselves to be bounced around by the waves for about ten minutes. I’ve given up peering into the murky depths through goggles when Holly shouts “there’s one beneath you.” I come up for air, spluttering “where?” Holly points and finally Mum gets her eye in! A grey seal hangs motionless below us, facing away, but head turned towards us, like a curious child, not wanting to admit it’s interested in something, yet sidling gradually closer. Then one turns somersaults underneath us, stopping for our reaction or applause, then rolling again, like a dog dropping a ball, waiting patiently with yearning eyes for you to throw the ball. Another drifts up from the bottom, straight for us, disappearing at the last second – before repeating the same game.
wanting to play? by Nick Tyson
Close encounter by Mike Deaton
Back on dry land we are exhilarated. The challenging bit is
over; we’ve done it and succeeded. We also have that refreshed, revitalised
feeling that a dip in the cold, salty sea gives you, as your hair dries in the
sun. After the early start it is only midday. We have the rest of the day to put
our feet up in the famous Marisco Tavern or walk round the island. We choose the
coastal path on the eastern side of the island and picnic on Quarry beach,
lazing on a flat rock watching distant gannets dive headlong in to the waves.
Then we walk slowly back, watching visitors scurry for the ferries, leaving the
island once again to the few residents and the wildlife. On the return journey as
the salt spray gives us another soaking and Clive offers us succulent
freshly-caught mackerel, I ask the Londoners how they rate swimming with seals.
“After all the effort of getting here,” replies one, “the best bit is being
told that it’s up to the seals. The not knowing and the waiting, so that when
they do finally come and say hello, you feel chosen by a wild creature.”
To book the Jessica Hettie call 01237 431042 More info on clovellycharters.com
To book the Jessica Hettie call 01237 431042 More info on clovellycharters.com
