Part of the mystery of the sea is that the abundance of different species varies enormously from year to year.
It’s always been that way. Even in the heyday of pilchard fishing some years the fish didn’t turn up at all. In others the fish were so thick you could walk on water.
Last year was a bumper season for Risso’s Dolphins around Cornwall. The Lone Kayaker had the pleasure of observing more in 2023 than in all the previous ten years added together.
Here’s the stats:
In addition I saw several more pods from the land, and another thirty or so individuals in Western Scotland from the kayak.
So it was definitely the year of the Risso’s.
Everything about Risso’s is exotic, not least their name. It is entirely appropriate that the surname of amateur French naturalist, Antoine Risso, has stuck. He found a beached dolphin on the Mediterranean coast at Nice in 1811 and submitted his findings to the big cheese zoologist of that era called Georges Cuvier. Cuvier referred to the specimen as the ‘dauphin de Risso’ and that’s more or less how it has stayed.
It is so much more suitable for this extraordinary-looking creature than the alternative names of Grey Dolphin…yawn, boring!…or Grampus…slightly better but not as fitting as Risso’s.
‘Grampus’ could lead to a spot of identity confusion as it is also one of the local names for the mighty Orca aka Great Killer Whale.
Strangely, or perhaps not strangely considering they sometimes share a name, Risso’s are often mistaken for Orcas.
They have a particularly tall and spiky dorsal fin which always produces an ‘OMG’ reaction when first observed. It’s a big fin on a big dolphin which understandably causes confusion amongst those who are not familiar.
At nearly two feet tall, the Risso’s fin is even bigger than that of the local whales, the Minkes and the Humpbacks.
Everything about Risso’s is remarkable. Not least their bulk. They are big and beefy as can be seen by the impressive ‘wooobooomph’ they create when they start to throw themselves around.
They weigh up to half-a-ton and are very nearly as long as my kayak. I felt distinctly small and insignificant as an impressively massive, almost completely white, individual approached me last year. A really extraordinary encounter.
I was aware that Risso’s are notoriously shy so I was sitting absolutely still to avoid spooking it. Even so, it took evasive action and swerved to the side when it sensed my presence.
If they take fright at a small, silent and stationary kayak it is perhaps no wonder that very little is known about the biology of Risso’s in the wild. They actively avoid all boats and if there are too many craft in the area they will just clear off, as I witnessed last year near Penzance.
Having said all that, they very occasionally bolden up and do a bit of bow-riding, although with me yet, unfortunately.
However I was once ‘threatened’ by a pair of large white Risso’s that squared up in front of me like a couple of living torpedos and were clearly discussing what course of action to take.
Needless to say they just swam past silently. Perhaps, in retrospect, they were just having a powernap.
The astonishing facts continue…Risso’s are a worldwide species that prefer to inhabit deep waters on the edge of the continental shelf where their main prey, octopus and squid, lurk.
They occasional nudge inshore to feast on a tasty change to the menu, cuttlefish, when they (the cuttlefish) move into shallower water around the fringe of Cornwall and Devon to breed in early summer.
So when I come across one of these, a cuttlefish with all the squishy bits chewed off…
I know that not very far away there will be a pod of these…
Last year my eyes came out on stalks when, during a day of zero other significant wildlife sightings near Fowey, I saw a series of huge splashes approaching from the horizon. I had absolutely no idea what was going on until I saw the chunky outline of a Risso’s in the middle of a cloud of spray.
Unfortunately the powering pod of 8-10 veered away before they came close and I watched in amazement as the splashes sped past at top speed. It was only when I reviewed the few and blurry photos I managed to take that I noticed some small calves accompanying the adults.
It was astonishing that these little nippers managed to keep up with the blistering pace. And why on earth were they going so fast? They certainly weren’t being chased by a predator so I suspect it was a training exercise for the youngsters.
And there’s more phenomenal features of remarkable Rissos’:
The mermaid tail:
The Striated Skin…caused by scrapping with chums/mates, and that Happy Smile:
The excellent Risso’s season was topped off by a unique sighting made by wildlife filmmaker son Henry in June. It was a rare flat calm day so I had spent all day out on the water and Henry had spent all day watching from land.
We had watched a pod of Risso’s at close range and seen Common Dolphins and a Minke Whale so as far as I was concerned it was a job well done and it was back to the Air BNB to celebrate a thrilling day with a beer.
Henry, however, stuck it out down on the shore until the sun went down.
Sacrificing a significant volume of blood to half a trillion midges paid off with a sighting that we think is a UK first.
A newborn Risso’s calf. All floppy and rubbery and almost certainly only a few hours old.
So it’s been a Risso’s year that will be hard to match in 2024…but yer never know…
ps. Being an octopus in UK is not as cushy and squishy as you might imagine.
The Lone Kayaker 
Can’t wait to see my first Risso, Rupert, from the rowing boat…They’re big and beautiful beasts!