Majestic art of swanning about
Most of us have, at some time or another, been captivated by the serene beauty and mesmerising power of a swan, gliding slowly across a lake, leaving only the smallest of ripples in its elegant wake.
In ‘Wild Swans at Coole’, WB Yeats’s sombre, beautiful poem describes how the swans “drift on the still water, mysterious, beautiful”.
Throughout history, Cygnus olor have inspired poets and been the subject of mythological tales and legends all over the world.
These majestic birds usually mate for life — although divorce can sometimes occur after nesting failure — and are among the largest of the flying birds. They can reach lengths of over 1.5m and weigh over 15kg, with wingspans that reach an impressive 3m, and an estimated 25,000 feathers.
The male swan, known as a cob, fiercely defends the territory that he and his mate, the pen, share. And woe betide any intruder, such as another male swan — or human — who dares invade. He will assume a threat posture, raising his wings and back feathers while lowering his head and moving powerfully through the water.
The cob collects reeds and sticks, bringing them to the female to arrange. Their nest is often a large platform structure, which may be the pair’s old nest, rebuilt and used year after year.
In a finely calibrated operation, the pen lays five to eight large, greenish-brown eggs (one every two days), and does most of the incubation, which begins as soon as the last egg has been laid. This means all the young hatch together, after 36 days. At this time of year, the first fluffy brown cygnets are beginning to grace large freshwater areas such as rivers, lakes and estuaries.
According to ISPCA inspector Lisa O’Donovan, the most common hazards facing swans are discarded fishing lines, attacks by foxes or dogs, and road traffic incidents. When the cygnets are over six months old, they may be driven away by their territorial parents to fend for themselves, and can become disoriented and prone to flight accidents.
Friends of mine who live just outside Bantry happened to mention that they were looking forward to the imminent arrival of the swan pen, carrying her cygnets on her back. I was fascinated. This was, they assured me, an annual event that they have celebrated for the last 10 years.
Jan and John Jarvis invited me to visit them in their seaside hideaway at Donemark.
* How long have you lived here, Jan?
>>It will be 10 years this June. And this place has become the centre of the universe for us. When we were getting ready to retire from the health service in the UK, we had originally thought that we would build a framed house in Galway, and we’d even made an offer on some land. But that deal fell through. Then we decided to head west and look at some other properties. And as soon as we saw this place, that was it. Our search was over.
* I remember you telling me that although the house was in a spectacular spot, it needed a lot of work done on it. Obviously that didn’t put you off.
>>No, not at all. And John is an accomplished builder. There’s not much he can’t turn his hand to. So we headed here on our first holiday, and John immediately set to work. But unfortunately, he had a heart attack and he ended up in Bantry Hospital.
* That must have been a terrible shock for you both. How did you manage?
>>It was a very worrying time. But everyone was so kind and helpful, as our two-week holiday turned into a 14-week stay. And it was during this time that I began to realise just how many seabirds lived here, too, curlews, gulls, gannets, and others that I couldn’t identify at the time. We had moved into their home. I would just sit on the beach and watch them for hours. But when I saw that first female swan, sailing down the river to the estuary with the cygnets on her back, that was a very special moment. Watching the cygnets grow became something we looked forward to every year.
* By now, you must have seen several generations reach maturity.
>> Yes, it’s been wonderful. We’ve named the resident male Big Daddy. He is really enormous at the beginning of the year. We can sit on the deck and watch him chase off any intruders. He’s very protective. The population of swans here seems to be pretty stable, around 18. But some years it can be quite sad when the number of cygnets suddenly goes down, and it’s obvious that a fox or the mink has taken them.
* Have you ever found any injured swans on the beach?
>>Fortunately, there’s only been a couple. One year, we did find a distressed and obviously very ill swan, and the Garda advised us to call a rescue organisation in Skibbereen. They aren’t there anymore, which is a shame, because they were marvellous. They came right out, put her in a blanket and took her off to do what they could for her. But sadly, they couldn’t help. She died in the night. They told us that, not long before a swan dies, it arches one wing over its neck, which is of course, replicated in the ballet, Swan Lake. It’s a pleasure and a privilege to share this space with such beautiful birds.
