The Yorkshire Vet: Sandy was signed, seal, and delivered - Julian Norton

After my session with the Marine Mammal Rescuers a few months ago, I was keen to keep in touch and follow the progress of any marine mammals in need of help. At least now I had the basic training, I would be able to offer some assistance if required. I didn’t have to wait too long. Last time, during training, I was dealing with a plastic dolphin, partly filled with sand and seawater to match the buoyancy of a real dolphin, and a seal made of sturdy rubber. This time, the stakes were much higher as I was summoned to Scarborough to assist with (or more realistically, to observe) the release of Sandy back to the sea.

I arrived in good time at The Sea Life Centre, where a crowd of visitors was queuing to be admitted. I met Tom, who gave me a brief tour of the centre before explaining the story behind Sandy the seal (whose full name was Sandy Shaw). He had been found by my new friends the Marine Mammal Rescuers several weeks ago, with injuries to his flippers and an infected ear. After appropriate triage, Sandy was deemed in need of help and attention and had been relocated to the centre for treatment and recuperation. He was young and underweight, but after medication and fifty herrings a day, it was now the time to get him back where he belonged!

When I first saw him, he was bobbing vertically in a small recovery pool, which looked something like a small swimming pool or a large hot-tub. His appealing round, dark eyes exuded warmth and happiness and charisma. Even without being an expert on sea animals or able to examine Sandy, it was easy to tell he’d returned to full health. Tom explained the plan for the morning, which first involved draining the sea water from his pool. Since this centre is just a stone’s throw from the actual sea, it was easy to fill with natural water for seals. Tom explained that they didn’t do so well if kept in freshwater. Once the water had been pumped out, Sandy looked far less graceful and slightly non-plussed, lying on his belly in the emptied pool. We descended a little ladder and quickly captured him in a sort of stretcher-cum-net which allowed us to carry him comfortably and safely to the back of the vehicle which would take him to the release site some distance along the coast.

Tom had his favourite spot for seal release, “it’s nice and quiet without any distractions,” he said before adding, “if we release them close to the centre they sometimes try and come back to us. They like the easy fish supply!” After a short drive and fifteen minutes of carrying Sandy, we arrived in the rocky cove and picked a suitable spot a few metres from the water’s edge. The sun was shining and the water flat calm, so it couldn’t have been more perfect. I snapped a photo of Sandy as he was lowered to the ground still enveloped in his carrying bundle. His whiskered nose and furry face had a grateful expression as if he knew what was coming. Inelegantly, Sandy shuffled over the final few rocks before sliding into the water, undoubtedly happy to be back where he belonged. Tom explained how this was the best part of his job, but those words were redundant because it was plain to see. Fifty meters out, Sandy surfaced and, bobbing about in the waves, looked back to the small group on the shore as we lingered to assure ourselves all was well. Was that a flipper he raised to wave goodbye? I wondered, regretting not bringing my binoculars. In my mind, I’m sure it was.