KING OF THE FOREST
Lone hikers beware, capercaillies need peace to recover their population so they have been out in force this summer, confronting those who dare pass through their lair, says Cal Flyn
Wildlife writer Cal Flyn warns hikers to steer clear of capercaillies who need peace to recover their population
If you go down to the woods today, you might be in for a big surprise. Those travelling through areas of ancient pine forest may find themselves face to face with one of Scotland’s rarest residents, the capercaillie – which has been unusually visible in recent weeks during the annual ‘lek’. The capercaillie is a large woodland grouse – an iconic Highland creature, with a black barrel chest, red flashes above each eye and white epaulets – which these days is mainly to be found in Badenoch and Strathspey. Having been driven extinct in Scotland by the late 18th century, the capercaillie was reintroduced during the Victorian era, and by 1970 was thought to number around 20,000. Recent decades have not been kind, however, and numbers have declined dramatically – the Scottish population is now thought to have dipped below 1,000, a second local extinction may yet be on the cards.
A sighting of a capercaillie is, therefore, a rare and unusual occurrence, one to be prized, and most likely in spring and early summer, at which time the male birds – pumped up with testosterone – can be extremely territorial. Strutting cocks have been known to emerge from the woods, chests heaving with a possessive rage, confronting lone hikers and mountain bikers who have dared to pass through their personal fiefdom.
Early mornings in spring, however, is normally when the action comes to a head: the male capercaillies parade around, demonstrating their virility by fanning their stiff black tail feathers like a ruff, thrusting forward their throats, and producing the most incredible sounds: sometimes a high-pitched chatter, sometimes squeals like a pig, or the long grinding wheezes of a rotary telephone, and all the while punctuating it all with quite un-bird-like pops and clicks.
The writer Patrick Galbraith, who is currently researching a book on Britain’s rarest birds, had a front row view of this strange custom in April this year. Inducted into the art of capercaillie spotting by a local gamekeeper, he camped overnight in a camouflaged hide, and was greeted at dawn with a lek in full flow.
“The Scottish population is now thought to have dipped below 1,000
‘You have to be in the hide before they come in to roost, and you don’t come out,’ he says. ‘I just lay there and read until around eight at night, when I heard them coming on the forest floor, then flying up into the trees. They sounded like helicopters taking off. Then I could hear them popping and rasping and guttering from the trees.’
Just seeing them up close was a strange experience. Their name, a corruption of the Gaelic, ‘means “horse of the woods”, and they really are like little ponies. They’re so big and heavy, an immense presence. There’s something rather magical about them; we don’t have anything else of their size.’
Soon the capercaillies settled down, only to awaken him at 4am as the ceremony began. ‘They are noisy birds, and that popping sound has a strong, woody tone,’ says Patrick. ‘At the lek I witnessed there were around 15 cocks, and they find stands on which to display. It’s probably the second biggest lek in Scotland. It’s an extraordinary thing to see – like stumbling on a witches’ coven in the forest.’
Patrick is reluctant to reveal the exact location where he camped, only that it was ‘near Aviemore’, warning that the birds’ ‘charming naivety’ renders them vulnerable. ‘They go to the same spot every morning while lekking, and will use that same place for years. The spot I camped at has been in use for at least 15 years.’
Human disturbance is a major issue for the capercaillie – even sometimes by over-enthusiastic bird spotters attempting to snatch a glimpse. ‘People will travel from a really long way to see them,’ says Patrick, ‘and the worry is that something will happen to disturb them on the day of copulation, and it doesn’t happen – the population is so small now, that would mean disaster.’
While he was watching, lying silent on the forest floor, the cocks displayed to no avail; hens were out there, listening, but apparently were not yet ready to commit. At the end of the display, the frustrated males drifted off into the woods, or back up into the trees, to feed on pine needles. Better luck next time. Every year, the females – which are smaller and sleeker, with tawny, brindled plumage – weigh up their options for some time before deciding on the most eligible bachelor; it is he and only he that they will deign to mate with.
Around 90% of the remaining capercaillies are now thought to live within the bounds of the Cairngorm National Park. Last year, the national park authority launched the Cairngorms Capercaillie Project as
part of their attempts to conserve the remaining population. Currently project staff are working to improve over 10,000 hectares of habitat by controlling predators like foxes, blocking drains to restore forest bogs and planting Scots pine. An app will also soon allow members of the public to report and monitor sightings in their local area (see cairngormscapercaillie.scot for details).
A further initiative will see a genetic survey of the survivors, drawn from a collection of 1,000 capercaillie feathers found within the national park. If the results indicate that a shallow gene pool may cause issues in the future, it’s possible that further reintroductions may be attempted – although such reintroductions are notoriously difficult.
A full national capercaillie population count will not be published until 2022, but lek surveys indicate another year of falling numbers – a cause for anxiety.
Speaking in June, Grant Moir, the chief executive of the Cairngorms National Park Authority, said: ‘Expert opinion in the 1990s was that the population trajectory for caper in Scotland would lead to extinction of the bird by around 2010. That did not happen and this shows that the work of various caper projects over those two decades had a real impact. However, declines in the last six years indicate that this bird remains at risk. The seriousness of the situation has resulted in capercaillie being moved from “amber” to “red” in the Cairngorms Nature Action Plan.’
Though it might be tempting, don’t try to seek out an encounter by tramping through the woods, off the paths – during the summer months, ground nesting females are easily disturbed. Chicks, once scattered, may never reunite. National park staff also request you keep your dogs under control in capercaillie habitat during the breeding season.
During the lek, in April and early May, keen capercaillie spotters might head to the RSPB’s Loch Garten Osprey Centre, where a pre-breakfast ‘Caper Watch’ runs daily. The wildlife holiday operators Heatherlea also offer tours from ‘mobile hide’ minibuses within private estates known for capercaillie presence. The one thing you can be sure of, however, is that a sighting is never guaranteed. So, if it happens to you, know you have been blessed by the gods of birding.