Scottish Wildlife Trust

Aberdeen Members Group

Newsletter - Autumn 2008

This is my second newsletter as editor. I am pleased to announce that we now have an extra page of articles, as the bird food order form will in future, be included as a separate sheet. This issue continues the diary of a volunteer and my wife has included a small piece on a "taster" on edible wild food run by SNH at Burn O’Vat. I am sure that many of you have equally interesting stories to tell.

I am also pleased to announce the imminent launch of the Aberdeen Branch Website on www.swtaberdeen.org.uk. It will hold copies of the two most recent newsletters as well as extra information that won’t fit into them (such as reports on outings and meetings). I will try to update it every month – so check it regularly.

I recently completed a digital photography course run by the Open University. I can heartily recommend it. It had a forum for students to display their work. The forum got me wondering whether our website could include copies of your photographs on the theme of Scottish wildlife. I have now learnt how to convert any photos that you include with newsletter articles into black & white. However, many photos are too detailed to be displayed at the required size in the newsletter – but could be perfect for the website. I have included some of my own photos but feel that it is not my role to provide them all.

“Whale!” I shout excitedly, a black triangular fin coursing northwards through the waves. “Where?” The others enquire eagerly, heads scanning the sea. I point to the left saying “About two thirds down from the horizon.” Wendy thought she glimpsed it, before it submerged. Likely a minke or a pilot. The section of cliff we are perched on, eating our lunch amongst the pink clumps of thrift, offers us perhaps a 60 degree slice of sea view, the sides blanked off by higher jutting promontories. The sky is mainly overcast but punctured with holes allowing flecks of sun to sweep past in the fresh westerly breeze. The sea is a dark, deep navy grey mixed with shimmering brighter shades as light reflects off a swiftly undulating surface, but no “sea horses” close to shore. Not a great day for cetacean spotting, but a lovely day for outdoor working. Munching our sandwiches, we continue to stare out to sea, mesmerised by the motion; a timeless human pastime like watching the flames and glow of a camp fire.

My mind drifts back to my first visit to these cliffs ….
................................................................................We were chatting idly, taking what refuge there was from the rain using the bus shelter in front of the Zoology building – our standard R.V. pick up point for a day’s volunteering. “Here’s Mike!”, as the Vixen (registration VXN) was spotted coming down the drive, trailer in tow; dead on schedule. We left our temporary sanctuary, squinting eyes into the wind-driven rain and all squeezed into the van. I took the opportunity to glance into the trailer – beneath the lashing ropes, one upturned wheel barrow and stacks of posts. Clunk-click, and we set off, north up the coast road. Mission: Operation Longhaven. The first of many sorties to a magnificent piece of cliff coastline. The journey was quiet for chatter but noisy with the sound of road spray coupled with steamed-up windows and thrashing wipers striving to secure visibility ahead. After passing through the deserted haven of Cruden Bay, where not even the customary lone dog walker was out that stormy morning, we approached the site. Through a gate, the van drew to a halt near the cliff edge. Mike cut the engine. The Vixen rocked gently, buffeted by the north-easterly hitting her starboard side. For endless seconds, the palpable human silence in the van contrasted the rain ricocheting off glass and metal driven by a howling wind. From our 4-wheeled pill-box five pale faces peered seawards - dark low skies meeting dark choppy seas. The unvoiced consensual thought “We’re not going out in that are we?” filled the van. This imaginary defeatist spell was broken by a determined “Right!” and the sound of one door opening. In quick succession, the three other doors opened with grunts of “Tally-ho!” and shrieks as windward troops fought to and fro with their door shields. Those of us who were not yet fully geared up for the weather did so in what lee protection the van could provide. My unfolding orange waterproof trousers suddenly turned into a straining two legged windsock - if ripped free, amid howls of laughter - next stop Bennachie.

Shouting against the blustering wind and hood-covered ears, Mike quickly explained the day’s task of siting waymarkers for the coastal path on the Reserve. We unlashed the trailer’s stowed gear: one wheel barrow, some posts and an array of equipment for hole digging: spades, crowbars, tamper bars, mattocks and the weird mediaeval looking torture apparatus, the shov-holer. Before we started, I surveyed the scenery - grassy cliff tops with evidence of previous quarrying activity (orange-brown granite outcrops, excavated hollows with signs of differing levels of tracks as successive excavations removed their stone over time). What looks like piecemeal quarrying suggests to the non-geologist that there were areas of good stone amid areas of poorer quality, like many wave-snatched gouges from a cliff carcass. Haphazard, but one assumes the quarrymen knew their trade. An old bridge crosses one channel. It has vertical drystane abutments made from granite blocks, built upon the rocky sides to a height of 4 to 5m, the tops timber-spanned, covered with about a metre of assumed rubble and overgrown with vegetation. There are signs of decay and collapse of some timbers, thus with its history and structural safety unknown, the path was to be diverted around the ravine and past this man-made relic.

The sites for marker posts determined, we separated into two teams and prepared to dig for Queen and Country. The greyish-brown posts looked like they were made of a pre-cast concrete. Although heavy in comparison to wood, they are made from recycled plastic, four sided and roughly 2m long. In order to seat these posts wel,l so that they are not easily toppled by foreign forces, a third of their length needs to be entrenched. The enemy, therefore, was a cuboid shaft of “soil” roughly 75cm deep, but also wide enough to accept post and surrounding packing stones to jamb the sentinel in place.

With war now declared, our initial skirmish at the target-zone proved the enemy was too well dug-in with solid rock hidden beneath the innocent looking surface. Armed with the crowbar, a few more prodding forays into the topsoil pinpointed a better site for the main assault. Spades and mattocks made light work of the initial defences and soon we were a good 20cm into enemy territory. Bridgehead established. Light conversation turned to mild consternation as dark soil gave way to reddish-brown grit, which within a few centimetres became rock-hard. Falling out of range of the mattocks such strong resistance called for counter measures – howitzers! – delivered by way of heavy saturation pounding with the adze end of a 10 kg crowbar. This only chipped away sugar-lumps at a time, but we were gaining ground, so with backs to the wind we continued to harass the frontline - staccato fashion. The repeated slamming salvos of the heavy bar were tiring, though fortunately, with three in our detail, we took it in turns to pummel, spade out the spill or rest, giving the enemy little time for respite. Cocooned in waterproofs, the rate of work kept us more than warm. Our leather gloves, once soaked, needed frequent wringing out to assist their relative warmth and dexterity.

As we progressed, the hole slowly accumulated water, percolating from the upper walls, turning the base to clarty dubs. This afforded the enemy front line some thick cover, as well as ammunition for splash-back - mainly diffuse but also some neatly aimed sniper splodges finding their mark, lending us some facial camouflage! We stood back a moment to re-group. Surveying the scene, we caught each others’ eyes and in one of those moments of instantaneous realisation, hilarity struck. .…
.................................................................I smiled again to myself as I recalled the scenario ….
................................................................................................................................................the backdrop was like a field in Flanders; semi-darkness, the smokescreen fog tumbling hurriedly over the grassy moor, pock marked with craters, phantom shapes appearing and disappearing; in the foreground three comrades-in-arms clad in storm gear, leaning on assorted weaponry astride a fox-hole, breathing heavily, rivulets of spattered mud trickling down their faces - the picture reminiscent of a Rambo movie!

The uncharted muddy waters in the depths of the hole necessitated back-up ordnance in the form of the Heath Robinson shov-holer, though this only clasped and secured a dripping fistful of porridge shrapnel at a time. Areas of armoured resistance proved to be aggressively tenacious stones which had to be freed from their obstinacy, several biggies putting up a brave fight, but the battlefront advanced piecemeal in our favour. The attack routine established, armed with the wheelbarrow, I ventured further afield in search of suitable packing stones. Some work sites are stone rich and unwanted; others are stone free and sought for. Scouting around, apart from the odd outlier, the nearest nest of stones to pillage was 100m away on a rocky outcrop. One raid did not secure enough ballast to pack round our pole. On my next return with a heavy barrow, amidst the spoils of victory the post was sitting proudly at depth, its foot in water.

We set about packing the post, kneeling, selecting stones and jamming them down with tamping bar - the task made slightly more awkward with steamed up safety goggles. Each jigsaw stone layer was covered and tamped with victory spoil, post checked frequently with spirit level, then stone and grit layers repeated until finally topped with turves. The appearance of the second detail signalled lunch. Very uncharacteristically, we retired to the confines of the van, the exposed cliff top not affording us sufficient respite from the weather for our customary alfresco dining. Cramped, damp, but cosy.

Over the course of the morning the fast moving rain clouds had seemed to touch the sea, like fog, then rise a bit, giving variable ranges of visibility from no sea to perhaps a mile. In one such clearing, looking down at the section of choppy sea visible to us, a sleek grey naval ship silently stole south; no lights, no obvious insignia, no outward sign of life, one turreted gun for’ard – minesweeper? The few seabirds we saw were impossible to I.D. positively, other than “gull-like”, owing to the poor visibility, rain, greyness and the speed they flashed by.

The afternoon was a carbon copy of the forenoon, hard won ground, though at least the rain was more variable and lighter in intensity, but with a stronger wind. We secured our second post, as did the other detail, a low tally of four for the day. Notwithstanding, victorious, whistling Colonel Bogey we gathered our equipment and retreated to the van. Whilst stowing the trailer, a patch of brightness drew our eyes to the northwest - as the fog lifted slightly, the eerie spiky white globe of RAF Buchan espied us, like a small Dounreay. Just what is it? Radar? Trailer finally lashed, we were off home to drier thoughts ....
.............................................................................................................The noise of a passing helicopter overhead brings me out of my reverie. Lunch now over, back to today’s task – grass cutting and yet more waymarker posts!

Members are welcome to attend volunteer days held on the first Saturday of each month. Please contact Mike Stevens before the Thursday of the preceding week. Limited places are available for pick up from the Aberdeen area. Actual tasks to be carried out will be dependent on priorities at the time. Mike is currently working within reserves.

I have now been in post as Reserves Manager North East for two years. Doesn’t time fly by! I thought you may like an update on what has been achieved in those two years.

A new Management Plan for the reserve was completed in 2007. It includes proposals to vastly upgrade the footpath and Interpretation on the site. To date this has been unsuccessful at attracting funding, but is still viable. The problems with water running onto the A90 from the reserve still persist. Mike Stevens has carried out works to ensure water doesn’t drain from our land, however the Council are unconvinced. BEAR Scotland (who manage the road) have finally agreed to construct a gully and extra drains on the roadside. We managed to get funding to buy Mike a new “super duper” lawn mower, which should make the ongoing maintenance of the footpaths here and at Gight and Red Moss much easier. We are still getting reports of people using “trail” bikes on the reserve, however liaison with the quarry owners and Mike’s perseverance have reduced the access points where bikes can be taken onto the site. A donation from a company called Apache allowed us to provide some materials for Mike and new Threshold signs should be erected this year. Mike continues to maintain the footpath, fences etc.

A new Management Plan for this reserve as well in 2007. The Forestry Commission have carried out huge amounts of clear felling on surrounding woodland. We are unsure what effect this may have on the red squirrel population and a local volunteer from Grampian Squirrel group is carrying out surveys, which include the reserve. Both bridges on the reserve were checked by engineers, to assess the condition. I am happy to report both bridges got a clean bill of health. We also held a Visitor Centre Survey in 2007. It is difficult to gauge how much the reserve is used from these brief snapshots. I visited the reserve with our Policy Officer and two local MSP candidates, and on another occasion I visited with our Chief Executive and Council Member, Owen Vaughn, so the reserve is being kept in the forefront of these “decision makers” minds. As usual Mike is working away quietly but efficiently carrying out maintenance and management on the reserve.

Another new Management Plan! We have finally managed to start actively managing this site. Mike has installed dipwells and has almost completed the construction of dams to block the ditches draining water from our land. Assuming this is successful, we then have the difficult task of convincing other landowners within the SSSI to undertake similar work on the rest of the site. This year we intend to fence off the access track to stop our neighbours cattle from puddling the track, which was quite wet in places last year. Mike has been carrying out routine maintenance tasks and our Convenor – Gordon Morris took a group of volunteers on site to cut back some gorse that was getting a bit out of control! The threat of the new Aberdeen Bypass to the reserve seems to have been negated by re-routing of the proposed road.

Mike continues his annual cutting of the meadow. A stile has been installed at the entrance to the reserve.

I spent a very enjoyable evening presenting a talk on all the reserves in my “patch” to Aberdeen Members Centre, earlier this year. It was good to meet everyone, and they were kind enough not to ask me too many difficult questions!
Finally I would like to thank Mr Mark Young (convenor of Gight and Longhaven) and Gordon Morris (convenor of Red Moss) for all their help. Thanks should also go to Mike and his team of volunteers.

E-mail is probably the easiest way to contact me, but all my details are on the contacts page. I am happy to TRY to answer any question you may have.

I have been a committee member on and off over the past 20 years. Since I worked in the university Natural History Museum, I was a useful contact as a go-between the committee and possible university speakers, and for organising talks and walks and for setting up the members night in the museum Some of you might remember these evening meetings in the museum when you were asked to bring along specimens for identification and viewing.

My main interest is in insects and in particular recording hoverflies. I have built up a considerable database of the hoverflies from all over Scotland and hope to produce an Atlas to their distribution, possibly through your local Record Centre, NESBReC. If you have any insect questions do bring them to me at our indoor meetings. I’ll be pleased to try to answer them.

Apart from helping with organising ongoing walks and talks, each year I would hope that I could encourage members to record our natural fauna & flora in this area and to provide their records to NESBReC so that our natural history can be better conserved for future generations.

“Marinate cubes for 1 hour in seasoned lemon juice and oil, and then grill for 10 minutes – great in kebabs” a voice said close by - and so began my introduction to the fascinating world of edible wild food!

Never having seen anything similar before, I quickly established that it was a fungus, Chicken of the Woods, (Laetiporus sulphurous) and that it should only be eaten when young, firm samples are cooked – not old and hard and never raw – and that it tastes very similar to chicken – but of course the key question was, “would I ever be brave enough to try picking, cooking and then eating it?”

The specimen I was handling was hard, dry and coloured yellow. I had selected it for closer inspection from the table displaying samples of many different plants whilst waiting in the Burn O’Vat Visitor Centre, at Dinnet. I was there to take part in a “2 hour taster” session one Saturday afternoon and had placed my booking, not really knowing what to expect at all but curious enough to be willing to listen and learn.

Catriona, the Manager at the Visitor Centre, took our party for a ramble through the paths at the Burn O’Vat stopping frequently to share with us the delights of the many different plants present in the area of the Vat. I discovered that string can be made from nettles; woven baskets from rushes; dyes from pine cones, and that sphagnum moss is useful because of its water holding properties. I learnt how to recognise meadowsweet, hoof fungus, valerian, St John‘s Wort, cowberries and blueberries. We talked about making fruit leather; lemon and wood sorrel meringue tart; and sedge cakes (similar to oatcakes).

On returning to the Visitor Centre, we tasted a great variety of foods made from wild plants – meadowsweet cordial, wild gooseberry jelly; chanterelle schnapps; pignuts; sugar preserved angelica. The nettle soup was delicious and the hit of the afternoon was probably the bramble vodka! So had my taste buds been sufficiently tickled for me to have a go myself???

The next weekend, whilst camping at Tarland, I decided to do some foraging, and discovered what I thought to be wild chanterelle mushrooms. Should I try them or should I leave them alone, worried that in fact I was mistaken and could poison myself. I decided to harvest them, and research further before making the final decision regarding the matter of should I or should I not consume them.

And the answer is? Yes, I lightly cooked them in a little butter and combined them into an omelette for my lunch – and I am here to tell the tale.