Elusive Lutra 

Seemingly unaware of us the big dog otter sat erect shaking his dripping whiskers. Dog and man froze, staring at the otter not ten feet from us. The newcomer glanced round and saw me; if I had ever been unaware of the meaning of the expression ‘double-take’ it was then immediately obvious. As if saying “My God, that’s a man,” the otter plunged back into the river and swam in a half circle watching us with curiosity.

Dog and man kept still and silent. The otter circled again and slowly swam back to the bank and resumed his tense watchful upright position. A moment later the bitch otter swam round us, then she too climbed onto the bank beside the labrador; we stayed there in row: bitch otter, dog, man and dog otter.

That was a moment of life-time memory; but it was brief. For the two wild creatures it was boring, if unusual, and they soon dived back to play and hunt in the river. Dog and man went thoughtfully home to bed. Of course, I have seen otters many times before mostly on the west coast and on the shores of the islands. One Saturday, fishing my favourite loch, I heard a mammoth rise behind me and as I turned to cast to it a round head bobbed up, stared at my boat and seemed to think it unthreatening. We went on fishing together. I am sure the otter was the better fisherman.

Persecution

It is not so long ago that the otter (Lutra lutra) was persecuted by man. Its pelt was valuable, it killed fish so there was a price on its head and otter numbers fell drastically throughout Britain, especially in Scotland.

But the wildness of the Highlands and Islands is such that it is almost impossible to extirpate any species and, with protection, numbers soon built up from the nidus of survivors.

Otters are now common again. For all that they are shy and not easy to see. Gillian and I had marvellous views of a pair of lovers cavorting and playing, fishing and offering each other food for an hour of a spring west coast evening during April.

However, like my old labrador and I, you have to be silent and still to get good views. It was a pity otters were so persecuted even if they did take salmon. In fact otters are now thought to improve a fishery. Their favourite food is the eel which they will kill in preference to any other fish. Reducing eel numbers, (they feed, among other things, on salmon spawn) boosts successful hatching of salmon fry. In the old days men killed anything that killed the things that they wanted to kill for sport; kingfishers and even dippers were shot for their supposed predation on game fish.

Noise - and other - Pollution

Which brings me back to tourists. Many visitors speak enthusiastically of seeing wildlife, especially otters. They then set out in large groups, equipped with maps they seldom consult, climbing boots, fancy walking sticks and rucksacks crammed with packaged food and beer cans with which to litter their way.

Worse still they converse incessantly at the sound level of a cocktail party and can be heard coming from half a mile away. These devotees of ‘bonny Scotland’ look, but do not see, and if they can hear anything above their own polluting noise, they miss the bubbling of the blackcock or the slight kek-kek-kek of the osprey circling overhead.

Worst of all noise polluters are the recreational river users who have banished much of the wildlife from our stretch of the Tay. Elusive lutra is seldom seen there now.

©Robin Hull