As usual it was a bit of a struggle to roll out of bed an hour before sunrise this morning, but as usual the effort was worth it.
The dawn chorus was really kicking off, with the charge being led by Song Thrush, Robin, Wren and Blackbird at full volume. More modest were Chaffinch, Dunnock and Stonechat. Charming, but quite tuneless, were Great Tits and Nuthatches.
Woodpeckers provided the drums.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard three species of warbler singing prior to the end of March before. Chiffchaff, newly arrived Blackcaps and a couple of Cetti’s Warblers singing from a patch of dense waterside scrub.. Although all of these species overwinter in England now, so maybe it’s not so much of a surprise.
The Blackbird is definitely my favourite. it’s got just enough melancholy to really grab your attention. (audio-bombed by a Song Thrush here)
After a couple of false alarms which turned out to be the swirl of ducks on the surface, I saw a big bow-wave approaching about a hundred yards away, close to the bank. Otter!
It was fortunate that my camera was already out of it’s dry bag and sitting on my lap, because this otter was moving exceptionally quickly, directly towards me.
I always get caught out by how fast they move, why don’t I learn? There is hardly any time to react, so it’s essential to have the camera set up on the right setting and all ready to go. At least I was in mid-river so it might slink past without getting spooked.
Fantastic, it wasn’t one otter but two!
You can see the second one looks hard at me as it swims past, but it didn’t see me as too much of a threat because I followed them for a further few hundred yards down the river.
Otter pair, Tamar Valley
This next clip is not the greatest video in terms of otters, but it gives you some idea of how fast they move when underwater and certainly shows how slinky and slithery they are. I just love the background audio which features the songs and calls of Woodpecker, Mallard, Blue Tit, Coal Tit, Robin and Blackbird plus more I can’t disentangle from the melodic melee.
Sensurround sound and unobstructed vision. Only from a kayak.
The sheltered creeks of the south of Devon and Cornwall have been my prime stomping (paddling) ground for the last month. The wind makes the open coast just too much effort and when you are being battered about by wind and waves you just don’t appreciate, or even see, the wildlife.
Two days ago I ventured up the River Tamar and was completely zoned in on trying to see an otter. The high tide, essential for this trip, coincided perfectly with the first light of dawn, so I was hopeful an otter or two might be staying up late. They are essentially nocturnal but in quiet places which are inaccessible to wandering dogs they will venture out during the day. Especially mums and there restless pups, or dog otters driven by testosterone and the need to patrol their patch of riverbank.
Last week I came across a lone otter, quite a small one, in precisely this location. I tucked in to the bank and sat absolutely still and it all but climbed into my kayak!
Ultra-inquisitive otter
Back to my adventure a couple of days ago…I had been paddling for an hour when an otter surfaced directly in front of my kayak, too close for me to be able to get my camera ready. Both the otter and I froze for a few seconds, before it dived and I followed the trail of bubbles leading to a thick riverside bush. Dammit, I wasn’t going to see that one again. Once they know you are they they will completely vanish.
I was thinking that two otters in one morning would be too good to be true, but ten minutes later I saw a big swirl in the glassy water far ahead, and then the characteristic hunched form of an otter, a big one, lolloping along the bank. Lots of advanced warning this time, so I had plenty of time to engage full stealth mode.
I powered ahead to catch up, as quietly as possible.
The otter reappeared in the water:
Otter in Tamar
I watched it from a safe distance as it did a bit of fishing, coming up after every dive with a crunchy snack, as they always do. The loud song in the background is a wren in slomo, by the way. Sounds more like a Nightingale!
It then started to head off upstream, hugging the bank closely and spending long periods underwater. I could just about keep track by the bubble trail left behind at the surface. The bubbles, incidentally, come from air trapped in the pelt when it dives, not from the otter breathing out underwater.
Every so often it would get out on the bank, have a frantic yawn, sniff, shake, scratch or nibble and then speed on its way after a perfect splashless dive back into the river.
At the big bend in the river it crossed over in front of me and got out and did more of the same.
Interestingly, it clearly knew precisely where it was going and where it was going to get out. It did not hesitate or dither for a second. It seemed to be on a mission to speed along this section of riverbank as fast as possible, checking out all the possible places where an imposter otter may have left a mark. And it seemed to know every single inch of its territory like the back of its paw.
In fact it was speeding along so fast I could hardly keep up. I kept as close as I could to the other bank, which was far enough away to not spook the otter.
It was also unbelievably hard to track. It was absolutely incredible that a creature of that size could slither through the water with barely a ripple and at such astonishing speed. No wonder they are hardly ever seen.
Take a close look at this video and you will see what I mean. Just a few bubbles to give a hint of its location:
We (me and the otter) were fast approaching another big bend in the river. One with a big grassy bank. I was very hopeful that the otter would not be able to resist checking out this corner for the scent or markings of competitors, as these sort of promontories are favourite places for sprainting sites.
So I paddled as flat out and as quietly as possible to overtake the otter and wait opposite the grassy bank. I tucked in to a riverside bush and froze, hardly daring to breath.
The otter emerged and scampered up the bank precisely where I had expected.
You will see it is incredibly twitchy and cautious, so can perhaps get the occasional whiff of my scent, but its determination to mark out its territory ruled over all other concerns.
Dog Otter, River Tamar
You might also notice how difficult it is to take a video from a kayak. I had to adjust my seating position half way through the clip so that my neck didn’t crunch as I twisted it around when my kayak moved in the wrong direction (as it always does when I don’t want it to)
This was perhaps my best view ever of one of my favourite British mammals in a river in SW England.
It gave the local geese a nasty shock as it sped round the corner underwater. Watch the trail of bubbles.
I caught up with it again around the corner, shadowed it for a further few hundred yards and then it just disappeared. Just as it went past a thick bush. Maybe that’s where it had aits bed.It could certainly do with a rest after its high-speed race for home, finishing a good mile and-a-half from where I first saw it. I had been watching it for the best part of half-an-hour!
Just in case you had half-an-eye on the telly during the video above, here’s the best bit again.
The Lone Kayaker 