October 2021 Newsletter

Recently, I explored the substantial seagrass bed in St Peters Pool, Deerness. This site probably occupies most people’s minds as the muddy beach opposite Dingeshowe and you would be forgiven for not knowing there was a seagrass bed there, as its edge is rarely reached by the lowest of low tides.

I’ve arrived as the tide is still low, with a group of bar-tailed godwits making the most of the invertebrate pickings on offer. I know from experience that it’s very shallow here and I walk for quite a distance before the water is deep enough to allow me to swim. Fortunately, the water is at its warmest right now and a wetsuit is sufficient to stay cosy.

As I swim, the sun appears and the sandy bottom, pock-marked with the casts of lugworms, takes on a kaleidoscopic appearance with the constantly changing shapes of refracted sunshine.

It’s not long however before I reach the edge of the seagrass and I can see why they are sometimes referred to as seagrass meadows, such is the thickness and density of the beds. The colour is superb; the leaves a bright lime green, waving gently back and forth in the calm water, illuminated by the twinkling shafts of sunlight. The bright light makes such a difference - I’ve swam above seagrass beds in dull conditions and it's nowhere near as beautiful. I stand up momentarily to get my bearings and I’m still only in waist-height water. Unbeknownst to me, I’ve been tracked all the way here, with the dark face of a harbour seal peering at me from 50 metres away.

It’s important if you do snorkel here to keep floating at all times when you’re above the seagrass. Although resilient in many ways, it can be damaged physically so don’t be tempted to put your feet down for a rest - leave that for the sandy areas!

I move farther into the meadow and I slowly start to get my eye in. I realise just how much life there is here besides the seagrass. Shore crabs have marked out their territories and they seem to like the little pockets of space where large fronds of kelp have settled, no doubt having been ripped from a rock somewhere nearby. Sea squirts and hydroids are abundant here too, on both the degrading seaweed and the seagrass itself.

In fact, all amongst the seagrass there are little surprises. Mauve-coloured sea hares (a type of sea slug) twist their way up and down the leaves. Tiny flatfish float along the seabed and a fifteen-spined stickleback does its best to float away unnoticed whilst keeping an eye on me. Common or sand gobies are abundant here and are one of the few fish species that will actively approach you if stay still near the bottom - a tactic designed perhaps to profit from disturbed sediment and the chance of an easy meal.

I spot one of my favourite fish, the short-spined scorpionfish, resting at the edge of the seagrass, its glum face no doubt waiting for unsuspecting prey. Although I haven’t seen any here, the seagrass bed at Grimbister is one of the best places in Orkney to see one of the more unusual anemones, the snakelock anemone, which unlike its cousins the beadlet and dahlia, can’t retract its tentacles.

A small shoal of fish darts away in front of me and reinforces what I already knew about these meadows. One of the most important roles of seagrass is providing a nursery area for juvenile fish, many of which go on to become commercially important species. The three-dimensional nature of this habitat offers creatures shelter, protection from predators and increased food availability.

On a personal level I find swimming above the meadows when the water is warm really relaxing. When there is so much to marvel at, worries seem far away. However, I feel a little resistance as I start to swim back with the pull of the tide and this is my cue to head back to shore. On a safety note, although the water is shallow here, it is a fair distance to get to the edge of the beds and it does become deeper. It’s better for stronger swimmers and don’t go alone.

But this piece isn’t really about how I feel. It’s fact and figures time!

To me, seagrass is a ‘super habitat’ with a multitude of functions. It’s an essential fish habitat; its very physical nature helps stabilise sediments and so helps against coastal erosion; it produces oxygen, and some might say most importantly of all, it helps us in the fight against climate change. Globally, seagrasses only occupy 0.1-0.2% of the seafloor, yet are responsible for around 11% of the organic carbon buried in the ocean. And, like many other habitats, we have treated it appallingly.

Around 30% of seagrass beds around the planet have been lost, though there are now projects to halt this decline and, in some cases, help restore the habitat by planting new seagrass.

The term ‘blue carbon’ is becoming more common now and basically refers to carbon stored in the marine and coastal ecosystems. Seagrasses globally play a vital role in sequestering large quantities of carbon, though it’s important to note that there is more carbon stored in the underlying sediment than the plant themselves.

Key ‘blue carbon’ habitats in Orkney include our extensive kelp forests, maerl beds (a kind of hard purple-pink seaweed that looks like coral but isn’t), horse mussel and flame shell beds, as well as seagrass meadows.

Orkney leads the way in developing new renewable technologies, harnessing the power of the wind, waves and tides in the drive for clean energy. But it’s also worth remembering that there are fantastic habitats here already, making a major contribution in removing and storing carbon which should be afforded every protection they need in our fight against climate change.

Find out more about Raymond’s work via his official website. You can also find him on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

I currently use a Nikon D3500 camera with an 18-55mm and 70-300mm lens, and my phone too. I have a large collection of glass balls that have been great fun experimenting with and come with me everywhere now. I am very much still learning and luckily there are lots of great photographers in the islands who are always happy to give advice.

My favourite things to photograph are sunsets. We are very fortunate here to have such colourful skies and no two Orkney sunsets are the same. The west coast has some amazing locations, such as the Brough of Birsay and Marwick Head. There are also beaches all over the islands where you can watch the sun go down over the sea. I’m currently trying to get photos of Orkney landmarks through a lens ball to give a different take on the usual style.

Photography is a fun hobby and I've made many new friends through it. It's definitely made me appreciate how lucky I am to live in these islands. It comes with its challenges; the weather can be very unpredictable, with clear skies one minute and torrential rain the next. But this unpredictability only adds to the appeal of Orkney.

The islands are rich in historical sites, there are incredible cliffs to walk along, and a host of wildlife. There is something here for everyone when it comes to photography.

See more of Vicky’s images on Instagram.