Reviewer Kristen Rabe Interviews Miriam Darlington, Author of Otter Country
Today’s featured book, Otter Country, got us thinking about the other kind of otters—captive ones—and how humans have chosen zoos as the main way they interact with their fellow earthly creatures. That’s a sad fact.
But whether you think zoos are cruel or cool, for 99 percent of us, zoos are the only place we see, smell, and hear a wide range of animals. Yes, television offers an alternative, but it’s not nearly the same. Watching otters, snakes, rhinos, giraffes, and polar bears in the flesh expands our consciousness.
Zoos, of course, are involved in the recovery of numerous species through breeding programs. They also help raise a great deal of money for habitat restoration and wildlife reintroduction initiatives. And then there’s classes and events specifically geared towards kids and adults who want to go further with their animal knowledge. We can be certain many of tomorrow’s wildlife biologists will first develop their appreciation and adoration of animals in a zoo.
But zoos are complicated. To cage a wild creature for our viewing pleasure seems a moral injustice, especially because the animals don’t act like they do in nature. Yet, ridding the world of zoos seems extreme too because the best zoos do a great deal to help save threatened species. So, what separates the good from the bad when it comes to caretaking animals? Living conditions, among other things, which means that high quality zoos employ experts in animal welfare, husbandry, and veterinary medicine, and they also belong to organizations like the Association of Zoos and Aquariums which rigorously monitor their membership. In fact, only 10 percent of the 2800+ animal exhibition facilities licensed by the United States Department of Agriculture meet the AZA’s accreditation standards.
Choose those AZA-approved zoos when you’re jonesing to see some healthy animals.
Okay, back to the world of Otter Country, which earned a starred review from Kristen Rabe in Foreword’s January/February issue. Otter’s author, Miriam Darlington, was all too happy to take some questions from Karen.
Otter Country includes intriguing accounts of authors such as Gavin Maxwell, who wrote enchanting books about their pet otters. Maxwell’s books, published several decades ago, were widely read and inspired several films. What have you learned about Maxwell, and how did his work influence this book?
I read Ring of Bright Water by Gavin Maxwell as a child, and then again as an adult. A child reading Ring falls in love with the charm of Maxwell’s beautiful prose and evocative entertaining storytelling. He was a brilliant writer, often composing pitch-perfect chapters that were amazing to read. The tales were full of wit and captured the beauty of wild otters and the romantic escapism of the Scottish Highlands. The book captured the imagination of generations in the late twentieth century who were concerned with rampant industrialization, loss of wildlife, and the threat to some of Britain’s most precious and iconic species.
While the story is captivating, I had an altered experience, with a grown-up, twenty-first century perspective fifty years after its publication. I could now see that Maxwell’s story was valuable because he engaged a generation to fall in love with otters, and with wild places. He also awakened people to the need for wildlife conservation. But Maxwell was indicative of his time: he felt it was acceptable to have an otter as a pet. Now we are more aware that wild animals are not a commodity to be taken, or bought and sold, and that we need to respect them and their context in more mindful ways. His captive otters all personified the problematic aspects of his attitude; they died horrible deaths, by accident, fire and by human hands. I learned that if a large predator like an otter comes too close to people, both can suffer; but the animal will always come off far worse.
Maxwell took his otters from the marshes of Iraq and from the Niger Delta in Africa because he thought they would make adorable pets and satisfy his need for affection. These days we are not so naïve; we have more of a sense of our responsibility. We can rely on domesticated animals for animal companionship and love. I came to feel quite strongly that the time has come for a different relationship with the wild—where we need to grow into a more mature understanding, and revere wild animals and the way they live far more respectfully than we have done in the past. It is high time that we remedy our lapses in understanding.
How do otters in the wild differ from our romanticized views of them? Which otter behaviors are most surprising?
Most people do not realize that there are thirteen species of otter in the world. Most are nocturnal, but they often break that rule … and it is important to be curious about why they might be doing this. I was told by one expert to never stop asking questions, and to never assume why an otter might be doing this or that.
Two otter species live in North America: the North American River Otter, Lontra Canadensis, and the Pacific Sea Otter, Enhydra Lutris. All of the species are perfectly adapted pescatarian predators and not all of them are cute! They all have razor sharp teeth, the densest fur of any mammal, and the most powerful jaws known in the animal kingdom, yet people adore them because they appear to be playful. While their behaviors can be amusing, Giant River Otters (Pteronura brasiliensis) living in the Amazon can hunt and kill a caiman. The lazy male of the Pacific Sea Otter species, Enhydra lutris, mates so violently with the female by biting on to her nose that he leaves lifelong scars, and he kidnaps the pups from the arms of the female to force her to hand over her catch of abalone and clams. Not nice!
The “cutest” species is the one we often see in zoos worldwide—the little Asian short-clawed otter, Aonyx cinereus—which is social and hunts in noisy family groups, juggles pebbles, and generally makes vocalizations that sound like a squeaky toy. Their antics are a very popular attraction in zoos and lead to people thinking otters are small, playful, and harmlessly fun. Mother sea otters do hold hands with their pups, but it is their only way of staying together in the harsh environment in which they live. Although we can learn from captive behaviors, there is more to the otters than the captivity suggests. Like any predator, they can be violent, aggressive, and are not to be trifled with.
You cite several poets who wrote about otters, including Kathleen Raine and Ted Hughes. What is it about otters that kindles the imagination?
Otters must be one of the most creatively provoking animals to write about. They have an ethereal beauty, and an other-worldly quality, appearing and disappearing with an aura of skill and mystery. They are difficult to see and to know, and they are adept and quicksilver: this leads people to both deeply admire them and long to capture them with their imaginations. If we can’t catch them with our hands, or ever come close enough to touch them, we can hold them in words. I enjoy Mary Oliver’s celebratory poems about otters, but also Ted Hughes, who sadly but poignantly reduces his otter to a pelt hanging over the back of a chair. I’ve written my own otter poem. Every writer should have one.
Otters are elusive, mostly nocturnal, and notoriously difficult to track. What techniques do you use to locate otters? What are your tips for someone eager to view otters in the wild?
At first I knew I would not be able to confidently track otters without the guidance of experts. I knew I would waste a lot of time, because I knew nothing about the field signs, tracks, and habits of otters. Books can tell you only a certain amount; you can learn the sensory aspects of tracking only by spending time in the field, usually with someone who already knows. I needed help locating the correct habitats and signs, so I found other otter authors, ex-hunters, field ecologists, and conservationists, and pestered them until they taught me what I needed to know. I studied for a qualification in field ecology under an otter expert, I followed our national otter survey, I joined in with research, all until I felt confident.
You would think that these people would find a curious writer demanding and annoying, but it was quite the opposite. People love the chance to talk about their expertise, share experiences, teach, and share their passion. They love to educate. It is all for a good cause after all. Once I had put in the work, I made some very touching and lifelong friendships AND got closer to otters in the wild than I ever thought possible. I’d advise people who want to see otters in the wild to go with someone who knows, who can teach you what to look for, how to take care, and avoid doing any harm.
You describe otters as a “barometer for the health of our rivers.” How are changing landscapes, urban development, and climate change affecting otters? How well are they adapting to change?
Otters are harmed by their habitat being drained, cut up, built on, or destroyed by ignorant human encroachment, just like any wild species. But they are also adaptable and resilient, and less specialized than we might think. With extreme weather and seasonal change, otters do have the capacity to adapt what they eat (for example, they can feed on amphibians, waterfowl, and carrion when fish are in short supply). On the other hand, they can be threatened by floods, pollution, decline in fish populations, and misplaced persecution. In Britain they live close to human populations and even in our cities and towns. It is vitally important we pay attention to—and respect—their needs.
We may not hunt them anymore, but their new predator is cars. In the winter, human rush hour coincides with dusk, when otters come out to feed. That means commuters are out in force driving home when otters are more likely to be on the roads. The otter population where I live is sadly managed by accident, on the roads, at night. This situation has been aggravated by increasingly frequent periods of extreme heavy rain, which cause rivers to rise. There is nothing the otters can do to adapt to this. It is up to us to provide safety with mitigation, otter passes, road signage, and slower speed limits so that people can drive with more consideration and awareness of nocturnal wildlife.
During your travels, you befriended many people who share your fascination with these creatures. What most surprised you or inspired you about the otter-loving people you met on your journeys?
I touched on this above, but I would say that, in addition to being busy professionals working at the forefront of conservation science, all the otter folk I met were delighted to spend half a day (or more) with me teaching and repeatedly chatting on the phone, and meeting up to share their knowledge and talk about what they were working on. One person, in particular, had been an otter hunter, but since hunting was banned and the otter protected, he was now helping with important conservation work in the otter survey and on education programs. His expertise and friendliness combined to create the best otter guide and mentor I’ve ever had, and I will never forget his wisdom.
Yet when I asked how he felt about hunting, he told me he would go back to hunting if it was still legal. His response surprised me, but it also made me deeply fascinated with the ancestral idea of respect for the hunted animal. Even if it didn’t quite make sense to me, it did to him. The job of the tracker and the hunter can be very close, particularly in the lives of Indigenous peoples, and I suppose the complex relationship is profound and ancient. My friend taught me to never stop asking questions, to never make assumptions: this is the essence of scientific research, but the wisdom also applies to any good relationship!
Kristen Rabe
