Seal Rescue

I know I don’t usually write on Saturdays but something extraordinary happened while walking Gem this morning. Mum and I had taken her Porthminster, one of St Ives beaches. It was 8.30am, about two hours after low tide. The waves were slowly but steadily creeping up the beach. As Gem raced back and forth, herding the surf, a woman walking past us in the opposite direction said to be careful as there was a seal at the far end. Even from halfway down the beach we could make out the dark shape pulling itself up and away from the water.

West Cornwall has a large population of Grey Seals. Though rare animals, in St Ives they aren’t unusual. What is unusual is seeing one on the beach rather than in the water. Like most wild animals they don’t like people or noise. As we got closer, I could see he was young, and that even with people nearby he wasn’t moving more than a flipper.

You might remember that a few months ago I went to meet Sue Sayer, founder of the Cornwall Seal Group Research Trust. She had loaned me some seal bones for my ongoing project Forged: Somewhere Between… Watching the seal on the beach today I decided his behaviour wasn’t right and so rang Sue, who gave me the number of the British Divers Marine Life Rescue. After speaking to them they sent out one of their volunteer medics.

I waited a short distance from the seal so I could an eye on him while Mum walked Gem away. The first time I saw wild seals in the UK I was walking the coast path at nearby Godrevy. There is a cove there that they live and have pups on. Go at the right time of year and you can see hundreds of them. There were only a few the first time I went, so like the rocks they were almost impossible to spot, though even from above they seemed somehow softer. Coloured in mottled browns, whites, blacks and greys, they lazily stretched and lifted their heads to have a scratch. Watching them my emotions were a tangle of intensity that I relive every time I see them; my elated joy and wonder clashes with grief and anger at the dangers we force them to face.Alison (whose name I remembered to ask only after we’d been talking for a while) arrived not long after my call, striding across the beach in waders, a bright yellow bag over her shoulder. I told her what I’d seen and why I’d called, then I offered any help I could.

With Mum and Gem standing at a safe distance and keeping people back, Alison walked around him a few times, seeing if she could spot anything obviously wrong. When she couldn’t she called the coordinators at BDMLR and together they came up with a plan. She would approach with a towel from behind him, while I stood further back with another towel in case he started moving up the beach. If there was nothing wrong, he would likely head off to the water the moment Alison got near. As she got closer, he started to lift his head, and when she gently held the towel over him he fought it off and moved towards the sea. It took a few more approaches as he was reluctant to leave, but eventually he slipped into the water and swam off.

Just when we thought it was over a mother and toddler approached to say there was another seal at the other end of the beach. Alison asked if we had time to come with her in case this one needed more help. She was concerned it was 105- a seal they’ve identified and numbered as she’s needed help and relocation 4 or 5 times in the last week. They’ve been getting increasingly worried about her, though a vet yesterday couldn’t find anything wrong.

Hidden among the rocks it was 105, the green numbers drawn onto her back.

Alison said she would need to examine her and consult with BDMLR to see if it was time to bring her into the hospital. She then talked me through all the steps we would need to take. She asked Mum if Gem would continue to be ok staying close by, because it would be useful if Mum could film it on my phone. Recordings of rescues help the charity share what they do. From start to end Gem was incredible, not a bark, barely a whine, only the occasional strain on the lead as she stood mere meters from a seal.

Alison had got a towel wrapped around her muzzle and over her eyes without any of the earlier seals fight. 105 simply lay there. Once safe to do so I took her temperature, poured saline into her eyes, helped check inside her mouth, and with a feeding tube down her throat helped feed her a mix of rehydration salts and glucose. Her breathing was sniffly and Alison wondered if she might have a chest or sinus infection.

Together we got her into the bright yellow bag and weighed her. She was losing weight, and I spotted a balding spot on her head, which Alison took as a sign she had bumped herself badly on something. With all that they decided she needed to be brought into the local hospital, recently opened with crowd-funding support.

I helped carry her off the beach and get her into a pet crate, then we waited for another volunteer to arrive with their car. I sat talking to her quietly and looking into her eyes. The land around here is tamed, all wooden fences and cut grass, surfers and families on the beach, mining ruins and walled fields. St Ives is a fishing town, with Tate on the beach and tourists visiting all year. There is very little truly wild here but for the seals, who are wild to their core. There is an otherness to them, they are untamed. Looking into her eyes today was like looking into an unknowable world.

As she was loaded into the car my part in the story was over. One of the most incredible experiences of my complete. I plan to find out what happens next if I can and I will let you know.