Survival of the Fittest

Alonnissos (National Marine Park)

The Mediterranean monk seals remained elusive.

Charlotte suggested that we would see some basking on one of the many sandy coves around Alonnisos. I replied that spotting them in that manner would be unlikely. Notwithstanding the fact that it is not breeding season, the Monk seals here have become a reclusive species.  

Nevertheless, with our binoculars trained on the shoreline over 200m away (this specifica area within the National Marine Park forbids getting any closer), we scoured the sand and rocks for signs of Monachus monachus.

But it was in vain. Before we sailed north for Khalkidiki, I had wanted to motor round two further Sporades islands in the park, but the sea-state was lumpy and Alix had found a good weather window for the passage north.

So, we left without spying any of our watery canine friends, with their neck folds that are said to resemble the folded hood of a monk’s robe. There is no point in being disappointed: this is the wild and requires much patience. If you want to guarantee spotting a ‘wild’ animal, you are better off visiting a zoo. Failure is all part of the mystery and adventure.

Monk seals were widespread throughout the Mediterranean, but have been mercilessly persecuted by man since at least Roman times. Their short-haired skin and blubber were highly-prized. Now there are estimated to be only 700 in the entire Middle Earth!

Even though they feed mainly on crabs and octopus, caught off the sea-bottom, they have been known not to be able to resist the easy pickings of a fish caught in a fisherman’s net. They have even pinched a few from fish farms. And fishermen are not the most forgiving of species when it comes to competition!

My theory is that the Monk seals should keep their name, but not based on their appearance, but on their adopted habitat and survival strategy: The seals now tend to forego the beaches and seek security in the many sea-caves that pit the coastline of the Sporades. These are generally inaccessible, except by small boat or sea-kayak. The females give birth here in the caves.

But there are risks. Any surge can sweep into the caves and pummel the pups or sweep then away.

So, the persecuted seals have shunned their native landscape, and adopted an almost hermitic lifestyle, surviving in remote, inaccessible and rocky places. Which, to my mind, describes the survival strategy of the many orthodox monks who have, for a thousand years, built and inhabited lofty monasteries and hanging caves, such as at Meteora or Mount Athos (where we are now headed).

Man, too, was these monks enemy. Men with a different religious outlook; or men with bloodlust; or men with simple avarice. The monks have survived through Ottoman times, and even shown the odd greedy Nazi a thing or two.

So, that is my theory: the two mammalian monk species have survived by adopting a similar strategy, one that most ‘fitted’ their unique circumstances.

In the humans’ case, those undefendable monastery sites were abandoned, thus leaving no room for future monks. In the sea-mammals case, those breeding seals that frequented undefendable beaches, or which relied on feeding too close to their human neighbours, never managed to raise new offspring. Their genes were never passed on.

But genetics is only partly about genes. It is also about passing on behaviour and knowledge through learning. "Nature versus nurture". Both are required for any organism - with the ability to communicate – to flourish and seed the next generation.

If only humans could be more tolerant and give a bit more space for ‘nature’. Whether that is modern farming in the UK; or non-encroachment into reserves in the Indian sub-continent; or refraining from destruction of prime forest and woodland anywhere in the world. To name but a small number of examples.

The world should certainly have many more marine reserves. Especially in the UK. These should be 'no-go' zones. It is proven that fisherman fishing just outside these marine parks get a better catch in the long-term, than before the parks existed. Nature just needs a chance to get a foothold and flourish, and then to migrate outwards.

Which is why I was a little annoyed to see, through my binoculars, half-a-dozen sea-kayakers paddling close to the beach on Alonnisos within the 200m exclusion zone. Now, they may have had a permit to do so? Maybe they were doing scientific research? But then again, maybe they were just ignorant or selfish? I must give them the benefit of the doubt.