Environmentalists are a pessimistic bunch. All too often they look on the dark side, pointing with alarm at vanishing species. Some creatures have undoubtedly suffered from human activity, but others have prospered. The last half century, for example, could fairly be described as the era of the hawk.
Peregrines, gos- and sparrowhawks are all strongly on the up and Chris Mead, the great ornithologist, dubbed the last 100 years as the ‘century of the red kite’. But although the kite may have soared back from the brink of extinction, but the osprey has gone one better: it has come back from the dead.
These huge fishing hawks were so heavily persecuted by Victorian gamekeepers, egg collectors and taxidermists that they were driven to extinction in 1916. Because of their conservative nesting habits (they almost always breed within a few miles of their natal nest) the loss appeared to mean we had lost them for good. Then in the early 1950s a few strays began to visit Loch Gartenand in 1957 the first eggs were laid – only to be stolen in what must the most famous egg-theft of all time. Nevertheless they persevered and by 1970 there were half a dozen pairs, rising to 30 in 1980, 70 in 1990 and today there are around 200 pairs in the Highlands.
Despite this their range was expanding painfully slowly because their conservative choice of nest site. Ornithologists worried they were failing to cash in on huge areas of suitable habitat in England and Wales. As a result a five-year relocation programme began in 1996. This removed 12 six–week old ospreys from Scottish nests containing three chicks (because it is very rare for more than two to fledge this had no impact on the wild population). The youngsters were placed in wire–fronted pens overlooking the giant Rutland Reservoir and reared without seeing their human captors. When ready to fly, the doors were opened and the young ospreys left to hunt naturally while getting to know the local geography. The aim was to convince them this was home.
The programme triumphed in 2001 when two of the earliest releases did indeed reappear and bred successfully, but meanwhile a ‘natural’ pair had established themselves at Bassenthwaite near Keswick. In 2004 two pairs bred in Wales, one near Welshpool, one near Porthmadog and in 2011 another pair bred successfully near Machynlleth (see www.dyfiospreyproject.com).
The real tragedy, however, is that they were ever persecuted in the first place. Their diet is almost exclusively small fish – particularly perch, pike, trout and dabs – which are snatched from lakes and estuaries. As a result they have no impact on salmon, but it was for their perceived threat to these which led to their extinction. Fortunately the tide has now turned completely and today most nests are found on the same sporting estates that once persecuted them so ruthlessly.
This is just as well, because thanks to their striking black and white plumage, huge wingspans and vast nests they are both conspicuous and easy to track down – particularly because the nests are reused year after year. They are also semi–colonial (an unusual trait among raptors which are normally very territorial), making them all the easier to persecute.
They may represent little threat to fishermen, but they are certainly capable anglers in their own right. A typically hunting strategy is to perch on a suitable vantage point such as a dead branch by the water’s edge from which they mount long swooping dives at fish rash enough to swim near the surface. Alternatively they will use prevailing winds to hover like a giant kestrel before plunging into the water with wings swept back, thrusting their legs forwards at the last minute.
This brings their remarkable weaponry into play. Their feet have four long, curved, talons; each toe is covered with hundreds of tiny spikes – and one is double jointed. This swings round just before impact to give a deadly ‘two in front, two behind’ hold. Indeed, they can grip their slippery prey so tightly that young birds frequently drown when they tackle quarry that is too big to lift. Older birds learn from experience and despite their apparently huge size (a big female’s wingspan can approach six feet), they limit themselves to fish under a pound in weight. This is eaten at leisure on a nearby perch or – if an adult with young – is taken back to the nest.
This gives rise to the male’s spectacular display flight. As he returns, he gradually climbs higher and higher, sometimes reaching a thousand feet. At the same time he calls continually to his mate with a high-pitched ‘pee, pee, pee’, before beginning a roller-coasting set of dives that end with him landing proudly in the nest.
The young normally hatch in June and fledge at about eight weeks, spending the rest of the summer nearby, begging for food from their parents while learning to fish for themselves. The adults are first to leave for their wintering grounds in Sub-Saharan Africa (Senegal and Guinea are particularly popular), followed by their young in early autumn. Breeding birds begin to return the following March, but younger birds wander extensively until they reach sexual maturity at three or four years old.
This situation is certain to change fairly quickly, however. Ospreys have no trouble living alongside man (they nest next to the Cape Canaverel space launch pad) and Britain has no shortage of suitable habitat. In the absence of persecution there’s every reason to expect them to be a familiar sight on estuaries, lakes and rivers across the country in the not too-distant future. 
