Showing posts with label Eyemouth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eyemouth. Show all posts

Monday, 27 July 2009

The extra in the ordinary


While wandering about at Eyemouth harbour at the weekend, and in between enjoying the antics of the grey seals (see yesterday's post), I indulged myself in a bit of standing and staring - my favourite pastime.

This time it was nothing more than a starling and a herring gull that attracted my attention. The rare and the commonplace generate such differing responses don't they? If either of these were scarce people would flock, never mind the starlings, and wax lyrical, but on this occasion, no-one but me was giving them a second glance. Yet the complex and variable colours and patterns of the starling, the subtle shades of blue and grey to be found in the pristine white plummage of the gull's head and the glint in its speckled eye are worthy of anyone's admiration. Or do I just need to get a life?

Sunday, 26 July 2009

A little bit of mackerel and a jump lead

Eyemouth in a drizzle. Marvellous. On the east coast just a few miles north of the English border, it's an atmospheric place with narrow alleyways and a harbour with a fishing fleet and a colourful collection of other boats. But never mind all that, I recommend finding the fish van man down by the harbour. For a pound or two he'll give you a bag of mackerel bits and access to his set-up, which comprises an old jump lead tied on a rope attached to a wooden pole. First, clamp your fish into the jump lead jaws then dangle it over the harbour wall and lower it to the water. While most people along the wall are trying to pull fish out, you do the opposite. Its sort of un-fishing.But its well worth it when 25 stones of Britain's largest carniverous mammal breaks the surface and grabs your bait.

A small group of grey seals loiter in the harbour waiting to be fed. If you aim right (unlike in this picture!) you can get them to haul out onto a makeshift pontoon to grab your fish, giving fabulous views without having to go through the embarassment of throwing up on the boat trip out to the nearby Farne Islands.

It's a great opportunity to study the animals close up in comfort. The nostrils are fascinating I find. If you spend 80% of your time under the surface, a watertight nasal orifice is pretty important. The normal relaxed position is closed and water pressure during the dive presses them even more firmly shut and when the seal surfaces, muscles have to contract to open them up.

Their adaptions for diving are intriguing too. Although the typical routine is dive for 5 to 8 minutes, surface for a minute and repeat ad infinitum, when pushed or threatened they have been recorded staying under for 30 minutes. How? Well I read that they actually expel air from the lungs before diving. Oxygen is stored instead in the blood and in the muscle.
Avoids the bends too I suppose.