Ramsey Island 2019 – My First Week

After arriving a day late due to the weather, my first week on the island was a little short and certainly went quickly. However, as I’ve come to expect, each day has been different and never dull. 

Unusually for me, I’ve been finding it difficult to get out of bed – in my other life I get up at 5:30 each morning . We don’t have to leave the Bungalow until about 9:15 and it doesn’t take long to get ready but I’d like to get up earlier than 7:30 – that’s a full two hours later than usual for me. However, a significant reason for my reluctance to leave my snug and warm bed is that it has been freeeeeezing each morning and it’s not an immediately enticing thought to leave my bed behind. The temptation of making a nice bowl of porridge (or gruel) has each morning eventually got me out of my pit. Food has been a constant in my mind for most of the week, whether it be trying to make lunch more exciting, increasing my evening repertoire (as of today now including a decent pizza!) or just settling down at the end of the night with a slice (or two) of my fruit cake and a wee dram.

The weather has been quite variable. We have only had visitor boats on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday due to strong winds and as I write this, on Saturday evening, the winds are strong again and blowing straight into the end of the Bungalow where my room is, making it even more of an icebox. Despite the wind, today has been gloriously sunny and in shelter it has been quite warm under the strong sun and I may have caught a bit of it. This has been the case for a few of the days; when the cloud clears it could almost be summer.

I didn’t feel that my stay had really got going until I did my first introductory talk. A primary role for all volunteers on the island is to help with the visitors, assisting them on and off the boat, Gower Ranger, as she arrives at 10am and 12pm and takes the remaining visitors off at 4pm. Volunteers also run the small shop in the farmhouse selling drinks and snacks at each boat arrival and for a longer period prior to the 4pm departure. A key part of my role over the three months will be doing the introductory talks when each boat arrives. The visitors are shown into the boat shed and they get a 15 minute talk about the island, where they can walk and what they can see. I love doing them and it’s a great opportunity to promote the work of the RSPB and enthuse about the island in general and the nature it supports.

In addition to the visitor tasks, John, the other volunteer, and I have been doing a range of monitoring and practical work. Our first tasks were to do watches at eight of the nine chough nests around the island. We spent up to an hour at each, noting down the activity to see if a pair is actively using the nest – three of my four definitely appear to be being used, while the fourth was a little inconclusive. We will repeat these watches over the coming weeks and I’ll do other bird survey work to support monitoring of breeding bird populations.

The practical work was varied and fun, including:

  • My first practical use of the quad bike after my course a few weeks ago
  • Altering some path signs and reinstalling them
  • Setting some more marker stones along the visitor path 
  • Repairing the chicken shed and run (they deserved it as they lay great eggs!)
  • Tidying up around the farms buildings and cutting kindling for the Bungalow stove
  • Tidying up the back of the Bungalow and installing a new compost bin
  • Trying, and failing, to take a gate apart to salvage the wood
  • Cutting back some gorse above one of the bays

After our work for the day is finished, at about 4:30ish, the evenings are our own. I’ve been running a few times so far; I have never run anywhere as spectacular as the Island and it sure beats pounding the streets at home or going to the gym! I’ve also been out for evening walks, photographing the wildlife, and have sat in the sea-watching hide looking for the passing wildlife.

One evening, however, our work started again at 10pm as John and I headed out to the eastern side of the island of help the wardens, Greg and Lisa, to catch and ring Manx Shearwaters. We spent a couple of hours using large pond cleaning nets to catch the birds as they landed on the ground. We gathered them up carefully, trying to avoid being bitten and scratched too much, and put them into cloth bags, handing them to Greg to ring. We ringed 20 birds over the course of the evening and had a number of re-captures of previously ringed birds – quite a successful night’s work. Hopefully more of these evening tasks to come!

The Manx Shearwaters are highlight of a volunteer’s stay on the Island, even if they aren’t involved in ringing them. A night on Ramsey at this time of year is accompanied by the weird chuckling-gurgling calls of the ‘Manxies’ and I love going to bed listening to them come in to their breeding burrows all around the Bungalow – I’m fortunate that I have so many more nights to come on the Island to listen out for them.

Taking a break from one life to live another

I’ve barely been able to contain my excitement for the past seven months. I’m just about to do something that I’ve wanted to do for many years and something that is well up towards the top of my bucket list; in fact it probably sits in the number one position these days.

Looking back at my working life and my career, I can say, very honestly, that I am where I set out to be. Sometime during the middle years of secondary school, while in my form teacher’s classroom, I picked up a copy of the Local Plan; I was fascinated – odd, I know. Possibly coming from a liking for maps, a natural tendency for order, a bit of creativity and an interest in geography, planning seemed like the ideal profession for me. 

My GCSEs seemed to fit well and my A-Levels were perfect, so I went on to study for a degree, and then a post-grad, in Town Planning (with a focus on transport). I then had a lucky break and got a job after only my first ever interview with a smallish consulting engineers, working as a Transport Planner. Over the course of the last 20 years, I’ve learned, grown and developed in the profession and now I’m an Associate Director in a large, multi-national consultancy. If I had seen where I am now from the eyes of that teenager holding that Local Plan, I think I would have been very happy.

However, what time has for so long led me to forget is that I had another dream job in mind way before I picked up that Local Plan. From my early childhood I’ve had an interest in wildlife and nature, despite a family tendency for all things trains and engineering, and that interest has burned long and deep in me. There was a key moment in my primary school years that sparked my interest further. If I remember correctly, on the way to catch a ferry from Newcastle, my parents, my brother and I stopped to meet my Mum’s cousin Steve at a nature reserve where he was warden. He showed us around and, as a nine year old, the experience was a defining moment in what would become a lifelong interest.

Over time however the interest slipped more into my subconscious and when I joined the world of work, it was well hidden behind all things that normally interest someone in their early 20s. As time moved on, work became more important and most other things became secondary and poorly prioritised. By my early thirties, my work/life balance was pretty bad and my love of wildlife and nature a mere cooling ember.

This all changed when, ten years ago, I finally decided to take a proper holiday and booked a wildlife trip to Sweden. It was the spark that re-ignited the flame and it has slowly but strongly grown ever since. Things still weren’t quite in balance between work and home, and it finally came to a head in the summer of 2011, when I decided to take a break from work and spend a year exploring my newly fanned interests. I spent a large part of that year volunteering for conservation organisations, both locally and at various locations around the UK. The experience that stood out the most from that year was the two weeks I spent with the RSPB on Ramsey Island off the Pembrokeshire Coast.

Every year since, I have gone back to the Island for more fortnights volunteering, and sometimes, if I’ve been well behaved, I’ve had have the odd additional week too. I adore being there and it would be a huge loss in my life if I couldn’t go back again. It’s usually one of the saddest days of the year when I leave and I think about place almost every day (triggered by the two paintings I have in my house). I always long to return and I usually make the booking to go back as soon as I get home from a stay.

So, imagine my reaction when I was there in September last year and Greg, the Site Manager, offered me the chance to stay for three whole months!!! Well, I couldn’t refuse. So, after seven months of containing my excitement, I’m taking May, June and July off work and heading down to South Wales to spend 13 weeks on the loveliest of islands doing something my childhood self could have dreamt of. I’m sure this stay will be the same as my usual shorter stays; it won’t be a holiday, I will actually be living a different life for a few weeks,

I have to say that my company and colleagues have been both extremely understanding and helpful in enabling me to do this – many wouldn’t have been so. It’s a sign of a brilliant company and great colleagues that staff can take time out and give the other half of their lives some real focus – thank you WSP!!!


Seals pups – born into a harsh world

It has to be said that the pupping beaches of Ramsey Island aren’t places of peace and quiet where the seals live in harmony with each other. They are actually places of sex and violence, right in full view of the pups (and often the visitors too!).

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The pups arrive in a blood-stained gush straight onto the stony beaches, gasping for breath and open to the often harsh weather conditions and surging tides. They struggle towards their mothers to get their first feed of rich milk, using their weak flippers to push themselves across the hard ground. Some of the pups find themselves in amongst bolder fields while others right on the water’s edge; either blocked in by rocks or at risk of being washed away by a surging wave.

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The gulls take a keen interest in the spectacle, waiting for the afterbirth to appear, a fine meal for them, which they sometimes tug at whilst it’s still attached to the female, eliciting an irritated response. They also look out for those pups struggling into life, those too weak to survive or taken away by the sea only later to be deposited lifeless high up on the strand line. This is a time of plenty for the gulls especially when the weather turns for the worse.

Storms take their toll on the seal pups, last year was particularly hard, but even a short-lived storm in late September this year took a number from the largest beach on the Island. With a  westerly wind, the waves rolled in to Aber Mawr bay, crashing up the shingle beach and against the base of the cliffs, leaving little room for the pups to resist the sea.

It’s not only the angry seas that the pups have to look out for. The adults are a risk to them too. The females are intolerant of others, whether they be adults or pups. Much of the sound coming up the cliffs from the beaches below is from quarrelling females arguing over space and proximity to each other’s pups. The aggression increases with the arrival of the males, it’s not only pupping season but the time for mating too. The males make claims for territories on the beaches and will fight each other to keep control of their patch and to mate with the females within it. I thought that grey seals had relatively tame fights compared to the elephant seals I’ve seen in the Falklands but I saw two really going for it at Aber Mawr with plenty of blood flowing from gashes on their necks.

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The females give as good as they get too, warding off unwanted advanced from males with growling and biting, with fights breaking out at times. Even when they are in the process of mating, there’s plenty of aggression between the pairs.

However, there are times of relative quiet, with the females nursing their pups and others, whether large or small, relaxing on the shore, basking, stretched out in the sun. The only sounds being the water breaking on the beach, the gulls calling from the wing and a pup calling out towards the sea waiting for its mother to return from feeding.

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