Norham Swans

Spending a weekend in the Borders, on the river tweed, looking for the elusive otter can produce the unexpected. This morning I woke before 4.00am and quietly made my way out of the B&B and drove down to the river by the bridge. It was one of those still, calm mornings with the mist hanging over the water and the sun was a ball of haze. I surveyed the water from the bridge but it yielded no clues as to which river bank to take to find the otter. I chose the Scottish side of the river and headed west, upstream. The sun was still low, the water covered with mist making it very difficult to see anything. I walked on through the dew soaked grasses stopping every 50 yards or so to scan and listen for activity. A few small groups of mute swans were quietly feeding along the edge of the water. I continued along the path to a point where the river joins together again and where a friendly local had suggested that the otters had been seen recently. After half an hour the sun had risen above the murk and the mist had lifted. I sat near a fishing hut taking in the total silence, the warmth of the sun and breathing in the air and absorbing the scent of summer. I continued to scan the river for that elusive otter, the water was flat calm and you could see an insect move on the water but sadly no otter. Somewhat disappointed at no sightings and having carried 6kgs of camera and lens, the necessary biscuits and water, breakfast was still a couple of hours away, I turned to walk the half mile back to the car thinking about that cooked breakfast waiting for me back at the B&B. The silence only broken by the occasional bird call.

I passed a small group of three mute swans making their way peacefully along the river. Then suddenly from behind me I heard a commotion. As I turned I saw one of the swans climbing onto the other one and viciously attacking it. The fight turned into a full blown battle with the dominant swan trying to kill the other one, no exaggeration. This was a sight I had never seen before and the intensity, aggression and sheer venom astonished me. I could feel my heart pounding with anticipation, I stopped breathing, I knew I had the chance to capture an unusual event.

My equipment was set up for small, dark, sleepy, distant, furry animals in early morning light. Here I was confronted with two enormous white birds furiously battling with each other that filled my viewfinder. I instinctively lifted my camera, made some hasty setting changes, almost automatically, and started to shoot. I had expected this to be all over by the time I pressed the shutter, with wildlife it usually is, but no, the battle continued. After a few minutes I realised that I was witnessing something very special and continued to shoot images. My mind was so full with making decisions about equipment settings and what I was seeing through the viewfinder that I might miss that definitive image. The equipment could capture every moment and movement, it was up to me to control it.

After a few more minutes I took a breath and dropped to one knee to take some of the cameras weight. This was tiring for me but what was it like for these two magnificent birds, five minutes had passed and no sign of the ‘bell’. I was concentrating on lining up the shots but still had time to take in the spectacle of what was happening. The dominant swan wasn’t just fighting off the other swan, but there appeared to be a conscious effort to kill the other bird. On three occasions the dominant swan grabbed the head of the other swan and held it under water trying to drown it.

Eight minutes passed and another swan arrived onto the scene but simply observed and moved away, obviously not wanting to get involved.

I was surprised at the lack of vocal noise from the swans, there was the powerful sound of the wings thumping into each others bodies and the water churning but little sound from the swans themselves.

Ten minutes passed by and after the dominant swan had turned the other one onto its back, climbed onto it and tried to use its weight to drown it the whole episode came to an abrupt end. After a bit of wing flapping the weaker one was chased off. I saw no signs of injury or blood and given the duration and ferocity of the fight I was surprised.

The 10 minute encounter left me exhausted but that was soon forgotten as I started to ‘chimp’ some of the 800 images recorded. There’s got to be some good ones in there, I said to myself as I walked back to the car again thinking about that cooked breakfast still waiting for me at the B&B.

As I walked back I tried to analyse what I had just witnessed. For ten minutes a quiet tranquil scene erupted into battle between these two magnificent swans and ended in calm, no-one else would know what had just happened.

Wildlife photography can be rewarding but you do need patience, persistence and perseverance and of course luck.

Always be prepared for the unexpected.