National treasures

Lucy Wallace explores the natural riches of Scotland’s coastal environments and the many challenges they face

THERE’S nothing quite like a visit to Sandwood Bay, a gloriously remote stretch of beach in the northwest Highlands, to highlight the special nature of our coasts. Wild, weather-beaten and soul-stirringly beautiful, it has become an essential stop on the hugely popular North Coast 500 tourist route – with the long walk in all part of the attraction.

But popularity has its downsides: while more people now experience the wonders of the Trust’s most northerly property, the dune grassland, flower-rich machair and other important coastal habitats are vulnerable to human pressures.

The problems of littering, camping amongst the fragile dunes and path erosion all cause headaches for those who look after the land.

“Unfortunately, not all visitors are responsible, with some leaving behind fire pits on the dunes and in the machair, and sometimes even abandoning cheap tents and camping equipment,” comments Carrie Weager, the Trust’s Sandwood Conservation Ranger.

While a big part of Carrie’s job is to help share the magic of Sandwood with visitors, another major part of her job is to clear up after them, with regular beach cleans to collect rubbish left by tourists and the tide.

Given the nature of the site, it’s not an easy task. “We have a problem getting rubbish off the more remote, rocky parts of the coast,” she explains. “These areas collect terrible amounts of debris that accumulates over years. Really, we’d need to use a boat to make any impact on it.”

Plastic peril

Some have been so touched by the extent of, specifically, plastic pollution on our beaches that they have made it their mission to inspire positive change. One such campaigner is paddleboarder and marine conservationist Cal Major who was so shocked at the amount of plastic she saw on the beaches during a visit to the island of Tiree that she founded Paddle Against Plastic.

A campaign group with a difference, it sees Cal use longdistance stand-up paddleboarding adventures to capture peoples’ imaginations, highlight the issue of plastic pollution close to home and inspire positive environmental change.

It all began with a 300-mile paddle around the coast of Cornwall, encouraging people met along the way to use refillable water bottles. There then followed a circumnavigation of Skye to demonstrate that more remote places are equally vulnerable to plastic pollution, before Cal undertook her biggest journey yet: a world first, 1,000-mile paddle from Land’s End to John O’Groats, again highlighting positive actions to tackle plastic pollution.

“Every single day in the UK around 38.5 million single-use plastic bottles are used, a lot of them water bottles – despite us having the luxury of clean, safe and abundant tap water,” says Cal. “This is one of the more frustrating single-use items for me, as plastic water bottles are so obsolete.”

Of course, it’s not just plastic water bottles that are a problem – sewage-related debris also washes up when plastic items are flushed down the toilet. “Some of these we don’t even realise contain plastic, such as sanitary items, cotton buds and wet wipes – even those advertised as flushable. They often end up on our beaches and in our waterways.”

Cal is upbeat, however; she wants us all to make changes where we can. “Every action we take to refuse unnecessary single-use plastic is a win. Talking about it and making changes in our own lives is the first step, even if they seem small. Adding our voices to the millions of other people around the planet who care about this issue will help put pressure on the companies and governments that are able to make even bigger change.”

Already there have been tangible victories. The UK is moving towards a deposit return scheme on drinks cans and bottles, with Scotland set to be the first to implement the initiative in 2021.

Seabird cities

Scotland’s coastline is extraordinary for many reasons, not least because it is home to a vast assemblage of seabirds, including internationally important colonies of guillemot, razorbill, northern gannet and Manx shearwater.

Many colonies have declined considerably in recent decades, although with seabirds so long-lived – anywhere between 20 and 60 years depending on species – it can be hard to quantify which problems impact them the hardest.

Globally, the biggest threats include bycatch (when birds are accidentally caught by fishing nets and hooks), invasive species, climate change and overfishing. “Of these, climate change and invasive species are probably the greatest threats to seabirds in Scotland,” says Dr Nina O’Hanlon, a seabird ecologist at the Environmental Research Institute, UHI.

One major concern is that as seas warm, so the availability of prey items changes – with some seabirds particularly hard hit. The UK holds 8 per cent of the world’s black-legged kittiwake population but some colonies are crashing; the species has seen an 87 per cent decline in Orkney and Shetland and a 96 per cent decline on St Kilda since 2000.

“It’s all about the changing distributions of prey species, and whether suitable size prey is available when seabirds need food the most – when they are rearing chicks,” explains Nina. “Lack of good-sized sandeels seems to be a key issue for many species, including kittiwakes.”

Seabirds deal with multiple pressure points, the easing of which may help them to adapt to the impacts of a changing climate. Local solutions such as restricting sandeel fisheries during the seabird breeding season, and efforts to remove invasive predators such as rats and mink that can decimate colonies could be crucial steps.

Other problems are visible but harder to quantify. “Plastic is a difficult one as it is obviously an issue, but it isn’t currently clear what impact plastic has on seabirds,” outlines Nina. “We know it affects individuals but at present there is no evidence for a negative impact at population levels.

“However, given how long-lived seabirds are anything that adversely affects adult survival is not a good thing and therefore plastic pollution may further impact populations that are already declining due to other issues.”

Like so many species, plastic causes problems for seabirds through both ingestion and entanglement. “Gannets are an obvious example in Scotland as we can see the presence of plastic in nests. Much of the debris incorporated is net or rope, which is more likely to cause entanglement.”

Above and below

Of course, climate change isn’t just a problem for seabirds; it will also see coastlines radically reshaped over the coming decades as sea levels rise and our coasts bear the brunt of increasing numbers of violent storms.

As the UK works to lower its carbon emissions, including an increased focus on natural solutions, one specific marine ecosystem could well prove to be a valuable ally. Around the world, out of sight in shallow, sheltered areas, seagrasses grow in aquatic meadows of flowering plants. Much like coral reefs and rainforest ecosystems, these underwater gardens are full of life.

In the UK, a species called eelgrass brings multiple benefits: it serves as an important nursery habitat for a range of commercially important fish; it helps stabilise our coasts, so protecting them from the impact of storms; and serves as a natural carbon sink, capturing carbon at a rate even greater than that of tropical forests.

At the frontline of protecting and restoring such valuable habitat is Project Seagrass, an environmental charity that works to map and restore seagrass meadows around the UK, including through a pioneering planting project in Wales.

The effectiveness of eelgrass in storing carbon is staggering. “In the UK, average reported organic carbon values are at 3,372 grammes of carbon per m 2 (averaged over 13 beds),” explains project director Dr Richard Lilley. “Comparable figures from elsewhere in the north-east Atlantic have reported average organic carbon values from 627 grammes of carbon per m 2 in Finland (over 10 beds) to almost seven times more in Denmark (over 10 beds) at 4,324 grammes of carbon per m 2 .”

As Richard explains, this Danish figure is approaching double the carbon sequestration rate of a terrestrial conifer forest in Scotland. “What we do know from the science so far is that hydrodynamics are everything when choosing sites for planting,” he says. “One UK site reported organic carbon values of 8,000 grammes of carbon per m 2 ! This means that when it comes to focusing efforts, and especially for planting, it’s important to understand how seagrass behaves. Mapping it is an essential part of that research.”

If planted in appropriate locations, seagrass meadows would not only have the potential to sequester significant amounts of carbon, but also provide a nursery habitat that would be hugely beneficial for local fisheries and generally enhance biodiversity.

“In Scotland we hope to build on and expand the work we have been doing with mapping seagrass meadows and indeed restoring them like we have already done in Wales,” adds Richard.

The Scottish Government lists seagrass meadows as one of 81 Priority Marine Features that are deemed to be characteristic of the Scottish marine environment. They are now protected by a network of 231 Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) – the majority of which are sites for nature conservation – that currently cover around 22 per cent of Scottish coastal waters.

However, despite legal designation by the Scottish Government, not all MPAs have management plans in place. One example is the Small Isles MPA, which is home to Scotland’s only aggregation of fan mussels. Although created in 2014, lack of agreement among stakeholders means that a management plan has yet to be developed. As a result, it remains legal for trawlers to dredge the site, potentially at great cost to marine life on the seabed.

“The area is one of the absolute jewels of Scotland’s seabed crown… management proposals have been on the table for the last six years, but all we are seeing is further degradation of seabed habitats,” comments Nick Underdown from the Open Seas Trust, which campaigns for sustainable alternatives to damaging fishing practices.

Open Seas is also resolute that the pockets of protection delivered by MPAs are just not enough. “To address the climate crisis and rebuild our fish populations, we need to significantly reduce the footprint of scallop dredging and prawn trawling in the coastal zone of Scotland,” says Nick. “We believe that, overall, this would be a win-win for the fishing industry and the environment.”

Part of the problem, he adds, is that the Scottish Government could do much more to plan for the long-term resilience of our inshore fisheries. “The question is how do we transition away from unsustainable fisheries in a fair way that doesn’t put people out of jobs? That social dimension to the problem needs to be addressed, and that will need investment.”

Properly managed, however, MPAs work – as demonstrated by Scotland’s only community-led example, the South Arran MPA. Almost three decades ago, local divers who saw the damage caused by destructive fishing methods in Lamlash Bay set up the Community of Arran Seabed Trust (COAST) to campaign for better protection. And the community quickly came on board. COAST was instrumental in setting up Scotland’s first ever No Take Zone (NTZ) in 2008 – a tiny area in the north of the bay. Here, wildlife is protected from all forms of fishing, not just dredging and trawling. It has since seen dramatic improvements in biodiversity, as well as the quantity and size of commercially important species such as lobsters and scallops.

“Every year crustacean surveys are conducted in the NTZ, record-breaking sized lobsters are recorded,” reports Jenny Stark, Outreach and Communications Manager for COAST. “Fishermen are reaping the benefits of the NTZ, as abundance of lobsters is so high that they are spilling over into accessible fishing grounds.”

And this was only the beginning. The 280 km 2 South Arran MPA came into being in 2014, although the Scottish Government didn’t adopt a management plan until two years later. Previously, the area was subject to regular dredging and bottom trawling from fishing vessels hunting for prawns and scallops.

A study by the University of York has shown that, in less than four years, king scallop densities have increased six-fold. “COAST and the Isle of Arran community’s success has been underpinned by 10 years of science,” explains Jenny. “There is clear evidence that marine biodiversity is improving in the protected areas. The growth of structurally complex nursery habitats and key blue carbon habitats are showing particular recovery, which in turn supports the recovery of commercially important stocks.”

These days COAST does as much outreach and educational work as actual lobbying but retains a powerful voice. Its success serves as a model for communities around the country, believes Jenny. “The message,” she says, “is that any environment can benefit from better protection, and every community has the right to a better environment if they want one. If that is embraced on a global scale, then there will truly be a sea change in the health of our seas.”

Fish farming

If unsustainable fishing methods cause environmental damage, what place then for fish farming? Today the industry emplys more than 2,000 workers in Scotland, often in remote communities, with farmed salmon one of the UK’s top food exports.

For some, salmon farms detract from the character of wild coastlines, but does this matter when set against such economic benefits? It certainly does for the inhabitants of the isle of Eigg in the Small Isles. Famous for renewable energy and a spirited independence, the island has long served as a flagship for community ownership following a buyout in 1997.

Since then, self-determination and self-sufficiency have both flourished. During a ballot in 2019, 87 per cent of islanders voted to reject plans for a fish farm off the north of the island despite the promise of jobs from the developer, MOWI.

It might seem a surprise that a remote community that stands to benefit from job creation would come out against such a development, but not on Eigg. “Most folk who live here are environmentally aware and well informed,” explains Maggie Fyffe from the Isle of Eigg Heritage Trust. “The opposition was very much based on environmental concerns. MOWI has since withdrawn the application.”

The environmental concerns about fish farms are wide ranging. Open cages result in a rain of uneaten food and faeces settling on the seabed. Chemicals are involved too, with farmed fish treated against disease and lice infestations. There can also be a negative effect on other wildlife; acoustic deterrents are used on seals, and if this doesn’t work the animals are shot.

Meanwhile, disease from farmed fish can spread to wild salmon and trout – a disaster for already dwindling populations – with the added problem that farmed escapees further weaken the gene pool of wild fish.

The Eigg islanders are resolute. “Other salmon producers may come along but as a community we’ve agreed to oppose any such approaches for the foreseeable future,” confirms Maggie.

The coast is vitally important to local people on the island. “You can see the sea from virtually anywhere on Eigg – it's a big attraction for me,” adds Maggie. “Residents and visitors are here because of the wildlife, and very much appreciate the island’s unspoilt nature.”

Locals do use the sea for economic gain, but only on a small scale. “No-one on Eigg currently fishes commercially but there is fishing for home consumption or to supply local restaurants. Also, one or two still pick whelks for extra income, we have the early stages of an oyster farm and someone is currently looking into small-scale processing of seaweed.”

While government sometimes appears behind the curve, communities such as those on Eigg and Arran are standing up and demanding to be recognised as stakeholders in their own coastal management.

Individuals can also make a difference, as single actions taken together become a movement for change. By doing something as small as refusing a piece of single-use plastic, to bigger decisions such as changing eating habits or organising a beach clean, it is possible for people to work together to persuade corporations and politicians that the health of coastal environments matters to people as well as wildlife.

Cal Major at Paddle Against Plastics is characteristically optimistic: “There is so much more awareness now, and all victories no matter how small can and do make a positive difference,” she says. “People are really making their voices heard.”

Lucy Wallace is an outdoors writer and mountain guide based on the Isle of Arran

• This story was originally published in the Spring 2020 issue of the John Muir Trust Journal 68. Become a member to receive our members' magazine twice a year