For the final Autumnwatch programme, where Kate and Chris would be spending a few days in the Cairngorm Area, I was asked if there was anything I'd like to film to go along with the mountain theme. Perfect! As I'd been writing my article I was lamenting that it had been too long since I'd spent time filming hare and ptarmigan, so here was a great chance to catch up with them.

I thought I'd go one better than just trying to find them, I thought that I'd find out what it was really like to spend more than a few hours on the mountains. So I threw my tent into my rucksack and went off to spend the night on the top of the mountain with them.

I was hoping for a beautiful clear night, with an early morning frost... What we got was sleet, rain, high winds and constant mist. All I can say is that I haven't been so cold in a very long time. I was in Siberia last year in mid-winter and I didn't once get as cold as I got on top of Cairngorm.

There was no point in staying on top of the mountain - none whatsoever. Simply, my hands wouldn't work and my feet weren't far behind. We dropped below the clouds and quickly found some ptarmigan to film. I always love to get the creature I'm after, but I have to say that the highlight of the day was the bowl of soup, bacon roll, cappuccino and slice of cake we had when we got off the mountain all in one go. Ptarmigan thrive on the mountain, I froze.

I tried to move to where they 
were, but walking with a six meter length of heavy metal pole moving 
around a boat in a strong swell is a frustrating, slapstick 
performance. There a very small window of opportunity to get them when 
they were feeding that by the time I had moved to where they were they 
were gone.

The second haul was similarly unrewarding. The light was perfect but 
the seas were considerably more angry. I used a shorter pole to make 
the system more manageable, but with the full-on swell and the rocking 
and rolling of the boat the camera was continually being dunked in and 
out of the water. I switched back to the longer pole, but due to the 
swell, added weight and awkwardness I got the pole ensnared in the net 
and ripped the camera clean off and put an unwelcome right angle in my 
previously straight pole.

With the camera saved I switched back to the 
smaller pole, but by this time the cables were in a mess of knotted 
sticky spaghetti, and the screen was barely visible through a layer of 
sea salt and mackerel guts. The huge net was swaying over us, 
suspended five meters above me, raining mackerel parts onto my head. 
That, driving rain and heavy seas had beaten us on the penultimate haul.



We had one more haul before the season's quota was reached. I knew we 
only had one more go; I just hoped that it would be in the daylight. 
The last chance saloon. We hauled in as the sun was cozying up to the 
horizon. The whales showed up, but inexplicably stayed away until the 
very last. With all problems resolved, and every last bit of 
determination we had, we got some incredible views of several whales 
beneath the waves.



Boy, it is eerie to see them down there in their own world. On the 
surface, all is a foaming, violent and wind whipped maelstrom. Under 
that tortured sea is a strange scene of peace. To us, a world of dark 
and unsettling tranquility. A seemingly empty place where immense 
killer whales glide effortlessly, planning their next move, 
communicating to unseen companions with unheard sounds. You want to 
know what it really was? It was gazing through a window into a world 
that showed me the perfection of nature and nothing else.

(Missed any of my high seas diary entries? You can catch up with them all here.)

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I contacted Andy Foote, a marine scientist specialising in killer whales. He has heard no accounts of Risso's dolphins associating with killer whales. Great to see something previously unknown.

This whole trip has just confirmed for me how amazing the British Isles are. To have had such an amazing wildlife encounter in our own backyard makes me immensely proud of our wild heritage. Autumnwatch and Springwatch are the ultimate celebrations of all the wild and wonderful creatures in our own country, so doubly proud to be involved in one of the best
series on British television.

A huge thanks to all back in Bristol for making this happen. There are so many creative and talented people behind the cameras on this series. It's them who make it all happen, helping the wildlife shine through for us all to enjoy.

Bing bong! Roy, the cook onboard, has just announced over the intercom 
on the wall in my cabin that dinner is served. This trip just keeps getting better and better.

(Catch up on all my adventures so far in my other high seas diary posts.)

The whales gave us a fairly wide berth. A few cruised by without even stopping to say hello. Pity, after a rainy and windy start the weather turned out not too bad. Not bad is a relative term in these parts, but it was decent enough for filming whales at close quarters. There were lots of other trawlers working in this area, so I guess the orca had had their fill of mackerel and that's why they didn't come. Unless I said something to upset them.

We had a little more success an hour ago out on deck. We were hauling in the nets and a group of killer whales showed up. Previously, they didn't venture into the pool of light from the boat but tonight they did, and I was able to get some nice views and shots of them.

Interestingly there was a Risso's dolphin swimming in with the pod of killer whales. I don't know if that has been documented before. Must find out. Killer whales in other seas will hunt Risso's dolphins so it's doubly weird that there was one hanging out with these guys.

Now I'm off to bed, just in case we shoot the nets at some ungodly hour. I need my beauty sleep. Just looked in the mirror, and boy, do I need my beauty sleep!

Springwatch badgers, Autumnwatch killer whales. Have I been marked as the man who films black and white things? Whatever next... mint humbugs?

Catch up with you later and in the meantime read the rest of my high seas diaries.

Just been up on the bridge, and spotted whales off in the distance but no hope of filming them so far away. Praying that we don't catch the quota too quickly. It would be good to have another few opportunities with the killer whales closer to the boat.

The skipper and crew want their job to be done quickly and efficiently, and be back on dry land as soon as possible. Other than everything happening very quickly and wanting to capture as much of this experience as possible, I'm feeling like I want to spend a whole lot more time out here.

It's an incredible place to be, with some chance of lifetime encounters. One of the crew has just asked me if I was bored yet. I've never been less bored in my entire life.

Heading back out onto the deck.

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To get the full story of how this happened read my blog post from yesterday and watch Friday's show.

Also get more of the background to my adventure with parts one, two, three, four or five of my high seas diary.

There was another large trawler fishing close by, and when viewing that boat I realised how much we are being bullied by the sea.

Incredibly, as we started to haul the nets out of the gloom maybe 10-15 killer whales arrived. They kept their distance the entire time, with a frenzy of tail slapping 200-300 metres away. It's a hard job to film activity at such a distance, so I was left slightly frustrated.

However, still reeling from our encounter on Monday and just had word that our footage has reached Bristol. Enjoy it when you see it on Friday night on the show and watch this space for some tasters.

Obviously very pleased to see the killer whales, but hope that they'll come in closer the next time. Shout has just gone up again to shoot the nets, so must dash. More later...

In the meantime, read parts one, two, three and four of my high seas diary.

But now I can report... We have killer whales in the can!

It was an incredible sight. We didn't expect to drop the mackerel nets today at all. In the end we dropped them as a tester and then pulled them in very quickly, as there weren't that many fish going in. Cue 50 killer whales...

It all happened incredibly fast but I managed to shoot it. As it was our first morning we hadn't done any filming onboard before they dropped the nets. Quite unexpectedly, therefore, the first shots of the trip are of the whales!

As I write we are taking the fish we caught back to Lerwick where the crew will offload them. Then we're all heading back out to sea tomorrow night with high hopes of getting more cracking killer whale shots.

In the meantime, I'm sending footage and photos back to base so it'll be right here on the blog very very soon.

Read parts one, two and three.

Five minutes out of the harbour the North Sea welcomed us with a reasonable swell. Sea legs were taken by surprise, so there was a lot of staggering and bumping into walls to begin with. Being dark with no horizon to fix on, on a constantly rolling and pitching boat the old stomach did take a little longer to figure out what was going on. Took to my bunk before I did myself or the floor a mischief.

The nerves of the last few days of waiting dissipated with the dawn of a new day. It's now a waiting game. Once we locate a reasonable shoal of mackerel down go the nets, up come the fish and we'll be on deck to keep our eyes peeled for opportunistic killer whales coming in for an easy meal.

As always, there are no guarantees. We're certain to find the fish, but we just have to hope and pray that there are whales in the area when we do.

Looking out the window of my cabin I'm struck by the general absence of birds. Distant gulls and gannets are all I can see now. A very perky wood pigeon has just flown past a port hole. Amazing that away out in the open sea you can see a woodland bird flying over the waves. He took half a look at the boat as a possible resting place, but decided to carry on. He seemed to know where he was going anyway... So he's one up on me.

(Read parts one and two of my high seas diary)