It Takes a Village - How Seawilding is Rewilding Loch Craignish

Kathi Kamleitner reports on her summer visit to the Wild Seas Weekend in Argyll and the Seawilding project which is fast becoming a template for community-led marine regeneration efforts around Scotland’s coastline. This story was funded through our mini-grant programme. Get in touch on [email protected] if you are considering applying for one. Kathi’s publishing a sister Seawilding story on her own podcast Wild for Scotland this week - see the link in the Resource section to listen.   Credits  Interview and recording: Kathi Kamleitner Co-production, editing and sound design: Fran Turauskis   Resources Seawilding website: https://www.seawilding.org/ "Long Time Coming" episode on Kathi's Wild for Scotland podcast https://www.wildforscotland.com/seagrass-restoration-loch-craignish/ Coastal Communities Network website: https://www.communitiesforseas.scot/ Argyll Hope Spot website: https://argyllhopespot.scot/ CROMACH website: https://www.cromach.org/ What's a Marine Protected Area: https://www.nature.scot/professional-advice/protected-areas-and-species/protected-areas/marine-protected-areas/scotlands-marine-protected-area-network Seawilding on the Rewild Podcast: https://pod.link/1668050136/episode/c4660a0178b228b228ffb1be3263127f Film about Seawilding: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tid73gH2i Transcript The first time I snorkelled through a seagrass meadow was in a quiet corner of a sea loch near the village of Tayvallich. I was one of eleven people participating in the snorkelling artist residency hosted by the Argyll Hope Spot.   The seagrass meadow I saw that day was a bustling hub of biodiversity. Deep-black brittle stars wrapped their lanky arms around blades of seagrass or long strings of sea spaghetti.   Scallops shells littered the seafloor. Many were empty and long abandoned by the creatures that built them, but I also spotted living scallops as they sifted water through the narrow opening between their shells. On their outside, pink serpulid worms peeked out of their white tubes, spreading their fan-shaped crowns towards me. But as I moved closer and they noticed my presence. The worms closed the lids at the end of their tubes and the scallops sealed their shells shut. And in an instant, life was hidden from my sight.   A little further, I spot a green shore crab scuttling away and hiding beneath a tumble of seaweed. On the tips of the seagrass, I spot juvenile snakelock anemones, their green tentacles blending in with the fresh green of the meadow. But their purple tips give them away as they sway from side to side in the movement of the sea.   And I knew that everywhere around me, magnificent creatures are hiding in the thicket of the seagrass, whether I could see them or not.   Snorkelling in his vibrant habitat in Argyll, was the beginning of my learning journey about seagrass meadows and the benefits they bring to coastal ecosystems underwater and above the surface.   I learnt that they were once much more abundant in Scottish waters. Research estimates that we have lost about 90% of Scotland’s seagrass meadows, but in places where they are given a chance they recover, they can inspire new hope in the face of the climate crisis.   Back in August, this journey took me to the village of Ardfern, some 20 miles north of where I first encountered seagrass meadows.   Here, on the shores of Loch Craignish, a local community-led marine restoration project, called Seawilding, is working to bring seagrass meadows and native oyster beds back to the rugged Argyll coastline.   I’m here to attend the Wild Seas Weekend, a two-day event that showcases some of the work being done in this region by Seawilding and other nature conservation charities and organisations. The village hall is bustling and across the two days, I meet many people who are passionate about the sea and the coast. I speak with students who research the effects of marine sound pollution and let a volunteer show me bits of seagrass under a microsco