Seal Drone Intern Experience by Grace Green

 The PhD Project was awarded a generous grant from Sea-Changers, a marine conservation charity, to support our drone-based seal research at the Ythan Estuary. This funding is crucial for providing the on-the-ground assistance needed to ensure safe and effective drone flights, while safeguarding the delicate wildlife of the reserve. It's all the people on the ground who make my research possible. I’m excited to introduce Grace, read on to hear her reflections on the role!

Hello, my name is Grace Green, I’m about to start my 3^rd year of Wildlife and Conservation Management with SRUC Aberdeen, and I LOVE the beach! Interning with Claire Stainfield was truly a dream come true. Not only for the opportunity to work on the beach every week for 6 weeks but because Claire is an excellent human being from whom I have learned so much. Particularly: professional practice, scientific rigour, good humour, and welcoming people in simply by being yourself.

My joy on the beach has always been in the elements. This was true at Newburgh, too, and so in this blog I wanted to share with you some of the sensory deliciousness of conducting coastal survey science with Claire.

 

One of my favourite photos from this internship, showing the many patterns and textures created by the elements that you can find on a beach. (photo credit: Grace Green)

Survey 1

May 13^th

8.45-10.30am

From bright sunshine and an optimistic pace in the gravelled car park, on the beach a thick fog rolls in muffling the sound of the water lapping just metres away, slowing our progress. We stand waiting in the eery quiet to see if the fog will leave, suspended not quite knowing where the shoreline is. Hoping it will dissipate as quickly as it descended. The fog does not. There are no other visitors to the beach today. No other sounds. The moisture in the air turns the notebook pages limp. Sometimes we can see the far side to Forvie, the crumbling sand dunes, the strong marram grass, and even patches of blue sky. Other times our vision is reduced to a radius of 5 metres. The fog moves around us, drifting, ebbing and flowing. I feel ant-sized

I think of Hound of the Baskerville’s, of Jane Eyre’s Yorkshire Moors, and of cod fishermen in skiffs off the Newfoundland coast stranded not on sand banks but in fog.

We wait in vain to send the drone up. We can’t risk flying with such poor visibility. We call it a day. 

A photo taken in Newburgh Seal Beach. The Forvie spit is visible across the water. Photo taken facing North-East. (photo credit Grace Green)

A photo taken on Newburgh Seal Beach. Photo taken facing East. The Forvie spit should be visible. (photo credit Grace Green)

Survey 2

May 19^th

10-11.30am

6 days later and we still can't fly the drone. Not because of fog, but because of wind whipping in from the North Sea, buffeting and relentless. It whisks sand particles along the beach. I think of the sand dunes growing and take joy in the sight of the sand racing around our ankles.

I hold the anemometer straight into the oncoming gusts like I’ve been told to. Beyond the anemometer clutched in my hand the North Sea bright grey. I record the wind speed in meters-per-second in the notebook. I write, hold the anemometer, and control flapping notebook pages while strands of my hair, escaping from my collar and under my hat become tangled in the wind.  

With the gusts hitting 8m/s, Claire knows she can’t fly the drone safely even with a few seals hauled out on the other side in perfect position for the survey. We call it a day, hoping that the conditions tomorrow will allow us to survey.

 

An illustration of an Anemometer and a photo of Newburgh Seal Beach showing the safety cordon. Taken facing West. (photo credit: Grace Green)

For two weeks, on surveys 3 and 4 there are no seals to be seen. This is around the time the powerful Orcas can be seen along the Aberdeenshire coast.

Survey 5

June 16^th

9.45-10.30am

This morning, we are still hopeful for seals even after 2 weeks without. There have been no Orcas recently, and this buoys us as walk up to the viewpoint to assess flying conditions. We are not the only visitors to the beach this morning. The seals are back! In their shiny, blubbery, howling mass they are gathered. A crowd of people have gathered to see the seals, too. The school holidays have started, and there are tourists from oversees.

Under the hot sun we send the drone up and people stop to chat. They ask about the seals, and what we’re doing. This makes a gorgeous invitation to see the beach and the seals anew. Through tourist eyes, some of whom are seeing seals for the first time. Through local eyes, understanding the historic relationship between the seals, Newburgh, and Forvie.

And through the lens of the drone gathering data to understand their behaviour, working to protect the opportunity for people to meet seals for the first time, and the longstanding relationship between the seals, this community, and this coastline. The sun is hot and bright, and when we get back to the gravelled car park, we are warm and sun-kissed. We shake dry, bright yellow-white sand from our bags, placing the kit neatly into the back of Claire’s car ready for the next survey. Neither of us knows what it will bring. It seems you never can tell when you're conducting coastal science. But we will be here, ready to survey.

Figure 6 The Ythan River, the Forvie spit at the top, and Newburgh Seal Beach at the bottom. Taken from the Newburgh viewpoint facing North. (photo credit: Grace Green).