Table of Contents 1.

Of all British wild creatures, there is one for which I have the greatest respect. On the rugged west coast, a remote wave-battered rocky shore is the last place anyone might expect to find an apparently defenceless young creature. Especially in the teeth of a howling autumn gale. A place where gigantic foaming waves rush headlong towards the shore, unleashing the power of an exploding bomb.

Here from the cliff tops a boulder strewn cove far below seems to be scattered with large pebbles. But distance distorts their scale. Up close the wave battered granite boulders are the size of cars, with scattered double decker buses between. Surely no life can thrive such fierce extremes. Yet some do thrive. For a few months each year, from the wind battered cliffs of Orkney to the Isles of Scilly, the most exposed places become nurseries for Grey Atlantic seals. Youngsters seemingly abandoned, with large eyes and silky cream white coats, they lie hidden among the most exposed of nature’s battle grounds between shore and sea. At the end of summer, newly born seals have only a few weeks to triple their birth weight, weaned on one of the richest milks in the animal kingdom. Their mothers all too soon leave them to rebuild their own strength, in time for the first Atlantic gales.

Over many years while filming my BBC television programmes, I had the privilege, pleasure and permissions to film these young animals up close. My tactic was usually pretending to be just another seal shuffling on the shore, albeit with a large camera. Keeping downwind usually got me close, but never eye to eye with these youngsters. Only occasionally was my encounter too close for comfort and they decide to investigate. With a full set of adult fish piercing teeth erupting within days of being born, they can hardly be called defenceless. But not having seen a human before, they probably just assume I am a similar, but less attractive, seal. Soon relaxing if I feigned disinterest.

Within a few weeks, juvenile seal pups begin to moult their thick baby coats for a shorter, sleeker mottled grey. A colour they will wear for the rest of their lives, the females perhaps for some 35 years. Larger males usually less. On one occasion, I was concerned when a very young seal pup was washed into a turbulent sea. But these creatures are born to survive, ably swimming within a few hours of being born.