12 November 2015
Links To The Past
by J R Thomas
The traditional pursuit of the comfortably-off country chap (or those who wanted to be thought one) was preserving pheasants. Preserving in the sense of rearing and then shooting them, that is. The richer version of this gentleman focused his attention on grouse – wilder, impossible to rear and difficult to shoot.
But in the early twenty-first century that all seems a little infra dig. Now the great game is “re-wilding”. This is not an exclusive but eyebrow-raising party, but the reintroduction and release in unrestricted habitat of formerly wild species that have long gone. In the USA a certain amount of controversy has been raised by the reintroduction of wolves into parts of the Rocky Mountains. Controversy that circles, like the wolves might come to do, round ranchers and hikers, who fear that they might become prey to wolverine appetites, the wolves not having been informed that they should restrict their tastes to wildlife. This is supposed to exclude cattle, but the wolves failed to make a note of that, too. To date, it is only the odd cow that has gone for wolfie’s lunch; the ranchers and the hikers have not yet fallen prey, though given the ancient animosity between them, each probably wishes a member of the other group might, just once in a while.
Similar issues have beset the introduction of bears into the French Pyrenean Mountains. Again, residents and holiday-makers survive unscathed, though local sheep have vanished from time to time. Sheep have no votes, and shepherds not many, so the bears look likely to stay.
Those two areas are at least wild, in every sense of the word, and whilst no trekker likes to be told there are areas they should not venture into, and farmers even less so, at least there is plenty of alternative empty land. Britain, of course, as we are frequently told, is a small and overcrowded island, and really cannot take any more inhabitants. Certainly, plenty of politicians and voters are against any form of human immigrants on such grounds; and wildlife conservationists face the same difficulties when trying to argue for the reintroduction of wild animals.
The first rewilding of any scale in the UK was indeed accidental. In the great storm of October 1987, falling trees demolished the fence around the Sussex private animal reserve of the conservationist (and Tetrapak billionaire) Dr Hans Rausing. He had a large herd of wild boar, Scandinavian cousins of the long extinct English wild boar. Except, after the storm, he hadn’t. They were at liberty in Sussex, which they have found very agreeable to their tastes, and have stayed and, in that piggy way, multiplied. Estimates as to the current population vary – wild boar are very secretive and good at hiding – but it is thought there could be around 600 in the area, and also in Kent and moving into Surrey. Boar will generally not attack humans unless they think they are being attacked, but will eat cats or dogs that get within reach, and equally alarming maybe for Surrey residents, will dig up a whole lawn overnight. Not out of spite, or dislike of too many Gertrude Jekyll imitation garden schemes, but looking for worms and mice. More boar escaped about the same time in the Forest of Dean and in West Devon, and it is generally accepted in most places that they can stay, providing that numbers are kept under control, so at least local sportsman can look forward to a little porcine stalking.
A much bolder scheme of rewilding was that put forward by Paul van Vlissingen, a Dutch businessman. He bought the massive Letterewe estate, in the far North West of Scotland. This was previously owned by Colonel Whitbread, better known as the “spanking colonel”, a devotee, in his own way, of wilding. Van Vlissingen was a great advocate of conservation and the preservation, or re-creation, of wilderness. Letterewe was the perfect place for this – there are no public roads across the 90,000 acres of the estate, which is in one ownership; even access to the main house is by boat. Van Vlissingen began to run the estate for wildlife conservation, rather than sporting, though he continued to stalk the deer, which are a problem in the Scottish Highlands as their fecundity has led to an excess of deer over land to hold them. The answer to this in a natural world would be the wolf, top of that particular food-chain. But all wolves have long gone from the British Isles, the last one thought to have been shot in 1680, in the Scottish Highlands.
The estate approached the Scottish Nature Conservancy (as it then was) to suggest fencing the entire estate and then reintroducing wolves onto it. The Conservancy was not totally opposed to the concept, and talks began. It is perhaps needless to say that Mr van Vlissingen’s neighbours (not to mention the Scottish Tourist Board and various other groups) were less keen on the idea of new sharp-eyed neighbours when they got to hear of it. Van Vlissingen continued to fight hard for his ideas, and indeed seemed to be making some progress, but the idea came to an end with his death. His family continues to own Letterewe, and run it in his image, but have dropped the wolf idea and have instead concentrated on gently introducing wilderness tourism onto their land.
Now another wild idea has sprung forth and is making considerable progress. This is the brainchild of the Lynx UK Trust, who would like to reintroduce the Eurasian Lynx to the British Isles. The lynx is, or rather was, Britain’s largest wildcat, a very handsome smaller version of a tiger. The lynx has long departed our shores, around 700 AD, but continues to thrive in very remote parts of Europe – mainly Scandinavia and Russia and across northern Asia. It has been reintroduced into the Alps, successfully. Now a significant group would like to see it back in Britain and have been identifying places where it might receive a welcome. First place to be considered was the Cairngorms National Park, in the central highlands of Scotland, which is large enough and forested enough to suit the lynx. It also has a natural food source – those pesky deer. This time many interest groups have been welcoming – lynx do not attack humans (maybe the odd unattended baby) and they are nice looking and fairly elusive so good for tourism. There is nothing a conservationist tourist likes better than a walk on the wild side in the reasonable hope of spotting a rare animal. And so much easier to get to Aviemore than to the north Himalaya in search of snow leopards.
Second possible site identified is the rather less likely one of Thetford Forest in Norfolk, a relatively small area, but heavily forested and with a big population of deer – and tourists.
Public consultation has been so overwhelmingly in favour of the concept, that reintroduction may begin next spring. The only fly in the ointment is very strong opposition from the farmers and landowners on whose land the lynx would be invited to make its new home. Like the American wolf, the lynx has a tendency not to read the small print, and from other rewildings seems to prefer sheep and smaller mammals – like cats and dogs – to deer. In fact, there is evidence that generally they will not attack Red Deer of the Grampian-dwelling variety, although will go for Roe Deer, much smaller, of the Thetford Forest habitat. Other nervous opposers are those devoted to the almost extinct Scottish Wildcat, probably a descendant of the lynx in the first place, for which bigger and tougher opposition will probably be the last straw. And, as the lynx is known to have a taste for ground-dwelling and not very bright birds, pheasant shooters.
It seems likely that the lynx will soon be with us, at least experimentally. Before we take this final step, maybe we should remember the experimental reintroduction of the beaver, now gnawing at trees, blocking streams and driving out otters and weasels from many a river bank. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction – even those involving handsome cats.
