How hare coursing united North's politicians

Just up the coast, where Clare Island comes into view, the shore flattens out above terraces of curling breakers

Just up the coast, where Clare Island comes into view, the shore flattens out above terraces of curling breakers. Behind a steep pebble beach there's a wide lagoon and, around it, a big stretch of open land. It's great country for hares; if I wanted to watch their March mating games, this is where I'd go, writes Michael Viney.

At the other end of the season, typically on Sundays in autumn, this is where men come with nets to catch enough hares for coursing - anything up to 50 or 60, perhaps in several visits. They carry a licence from the wildlife minister, Síle de Valera, and it is her local Dúchas conservation ranger who must oversee the hares' welfare in captivity, attend and report on coursing meetings, and watch the release of the hares that survive.

To judge by rangers' reports obtained by the Irish Council Against Blood Sports under the Freedom of Information Act, it's a job that must often make them feel sick and angry.

Despite the muzzling of the greyhounds, many hares still die of shock when "hit", or are so mauled they have to be put down, or die later. Figures for hare deaths reported by the Irish Coursing Club to the Department of Agriculture (under Bord na gCon regulations) don't always match up with those the Dúchas rangers observe. And from many parts of the country come their complaints of deceit and obstruction by local club officials.

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Some deliberately evade the rangers' supervision of release ("I have no idea as to the whereabouts of the 66 hares," reported one in Co Cork). There are rules against "re- coursing" of once-chased hares, and a system for tagging or tattooing prior to their release. But, as one regional manager of Dúchas has noted: "Local clubs seem to think anything goes and expect rangers to turn a blind eye to their activities."

Along with concerns about cruelty come those of conservation. A midlands ranger suggests that "due to the relative lack of hares in the wider countryside", some coursing clubs have to begin catching them up to two months ahead of the meetings - a prolonged confinement that can lead to more deaths through stress and illness. And, like most ecologists, he worries about the consequences of releasing 65 hares into an area of perhaps 25 hectares, when the natural territorial range of one hare is around 80 hectares.

Remarkably, there have been no widescale population studies of the hare to match the research carried out in Northern Ireland by Karen Dingerkus and Prof Ian Montgomery of Queen's University. Their three-year study, published in 1999, found a drastic decline in numbers, especially in lowland grassland managed for silage and lacking in cover for the animals. Its maximum estimate of the hares in the North was 21,000, and the minimum less than half that. Even the famous colony of hares at Aldergrove Airport seems to have vanished.

When I wrote about this and and the possible implications for the Republic, Lt Col J. O'Sullivan, vice-president of the Irish Masters of Beagles Association, was quick to reassure. "My association," he wrote, "which has 25 member clubs in Munster, Leinster and Northern Ireland, has conducted a hare survey over a period and it is our experience that there has been no significant drop in the hare population. Undoubtedly there have been cyclical changes in some areas due to changes in farming methods, urbanisation, weather, local diseases, pesticides etc., but over a period of years the overall picture is one of general numerical stability."

He would welcome a scientific study,he said, and offered the co-operation of his members.

In the big badger and habitat survey of Ireland carried out in the mid-1990s, the presence of hares was noted incidentally in 70 per cent of the 729 randomly chosen one- kilometre squares - a healthy distribution. But there has been no subsequent monitoring of numbers or population trends.

Nor, as zoologists Tom Hayden and Rory Harrington noted in their recent book' Exploring Irish Mammals, has there been any research into the effect of coursing on the subsequent survival of released hares.

Meanwhile, in Northern Ireland, in the biodiversity action plans published by the North's Environment and Heritage Service (EHS), conservation of the hare is seen as the first priority, followed by the chough and curlew.

"The provision of refuge areas, adequate and varied food supply and freedom from disturbance are essential if hare numbers are to be maintained," says the EHS document, which plans measures including acquisition of shooting rights and establishment of "hare sanctuaries". (The Republic's biodiversity plan, a sensitive document where farmers are concerned, is still in pre-election limbo.)

At the same time, however, the North's Department of the Environment continued to issue licences to coursing clubs for capturing hares - an anomaly which actually seemed to matter to many of the Assembly's politicians. Last December (how this lifts the heart!), in considering the Game Preservation Bill, parties usually vehemently opposed to each other teamed up to defeat the intentions of the then Unionist Environment Minister, Sam Foster. DUP Assembly member Jim Wells helped draft an amendment tabled by Alliance leader David Ford (South Antrim), co-signed by Sinn Féin's Mitchel McLaughlin and supported by Carmel Hanna of the SDLP, to prevent the Minister issuing licences unless he has evidence that this will not endanger hare numbers. It was passed by 46 votes to 16, with most Unionists voting against.

In defending his Bill, the Minister made a significant remark. "If the amendment is aimed at hare coursing," said Mr Foster, "it will not prevent the practice, since the majority of hares used for coursing here are brought from outside Northern Ireland, and we should note that." Dúchas's rangers, no doubt, already know all about it.

Northern Ireland Species Action Plans (£5.50) and the full report, Biodiversity in Northern Ireland (£20) are published by the The Stationery Office.

Three years ago, a starling built a nest in the attic of our holiday cottage. It got in by making a round hole in the concrete at the end of the fascia board, which I covered with wood. A year later a similar bird landed at it and inspected the situation. I found another hole, also in cement, on another corner which I also covered. Last year the beginnings of a third entry were made on another corner, but the bird found an easier route to the attic.

I now have all corners of the cottage birdproofed and await our next encounter with this interesting adversary. I never thought birds could get through cement like that.

Oliver Ryan, Limerick

It was the male starling that made the holes and then lured a female to take up residence. Both of them would have built the nest.

When I threw out some seeds to my local birds, I noticed a robin with an injured wing. Then another sprightly robin came out of the hedge and started eating. It flew back into the hedge and came out again directly beside the injured bird and tried to feed a seed into its beak.

Marcella Owens, Navan, Co Meath

Male robins sometimes feed their mates as part of a courting ritual.

Eye on Nature is edited by Michael Viney, who welcomes observations sent to him at Thallabawn, Carrowniskey PO, Westport, Co Mayo. Observations sent by e-mail should be accompanied by postal address. E-mail: viney@anu.ie