A Decade-Long Vigil on the Edge of the World
For ten years, scientist and photographer Jeroen Hoekendijk has kept watch over the pinnipeds – the seals, sea lions, and walruses – of the Frisian Islands. This fragile chain of islands, strung along the Dutch, German, and Danish coastlines in the North Sea, is a haunting remnant of the now-drowned prehistoric landmass known as Doggerland. Today, these low-lying islands stand as a stark, early warning signal of the warming and rising seas driven by the climate crisis.
Islands Steeped in History and Loss
The largest of the Dutch West Frisian Islands is Texel, famous for its sheep and a fishing fleet whose nets regularly trawl up a ghostly past. Alongside fish, they haul the bones of ancient megafauna from Doggerland: hippopotamus, rhinoceros, and mammoth, as well as the remains of the Atlantic grey whale, the first whale species driven to extinction by medieval hunting.
The island chain continues through Vlieland, Terschelling, Ameland, and to Schiermonnikoog, where cars are scarce and a whalebone arch stands in the main street. These are mortal places, exposed on all sides. The islands bear witness to a complex history with marine life. Vlieland once housed crews of the Dutch whaling fleet, and the giant jawbones of Arctic bowhead whales now mark the graves of the whalers inside the Nicolaaskerk chapel.
Seal hunting for food, oil, and fur persisted until 1962. Combined with the devastating impact of PCBs on reproduction, this reduced Wadden Sea seals to near extinction by 1976.
Resilience and Struggle in a Changing Sea
The most populous marine mammals here now are the resident harbour and grey seals, with rare visits from ringed, harp, and hooded seals. They forage, mate, and give birth on these shores, embodying the islands' fragile sense of life. After recovering in the 1980s and 90s, populations face new pressures. While grey seal numbers continue to rise, harbour seals have suffered a 16% decline since 2020.
The islands are also a tragic destination for disoriented cetaceans. Harbour porpoises, dolphins, and even large sperm and beaked whales strand on the shallow shores, unable to feed, with almost inevitable fatal consequences. A poignant image captured by Hoekendijk shows a humpback whale splayed on De Vliehors sandbank, like some kind of pagan sacrifice.
Remote beaches offer relative safety for seals to give birth. Grey seal pups are weaned for 19 days before being left to fend for themselves. Organisations like Ecomare on Texel rescue the casualties of this arduous process. The cycle of life continues with brutal honesty: massive male grey seals battle for dominance, while their eerie, human-like vocalisations at night inspired folk tales of shape-shifting selkies.
Climate change manifests in unexpected ways. The arrival of a female walrus, named Freya, on Dutch shores in August 2021 was potentially linked to melting Arctic ice. Her tragic end, shot by Norwegian authorities in Oslo harbour, highlighted the conflicts that arise when wildlife intersects with human spaces.
A Fluid Frontier on the Brink
Hoekendijk's work, from aerial surveys that transform seal herds into abstract art to intimate portraits of melanistic pups like Ebbie, captures the essence of these time-worn places. The Frisian Islands are an ever-fluid environment – often brutal, always beautiful; fragile yet tough. They exist on the brink of drastic climate breakdown, with erosion steadily reshaping their contours.
Yet, the resilience of the seals and the dedicated conservation efforts offer a tentative sense of hope. As sentinels of the North Sea, their fate is inextricably linked to our own, a powerful reminder of what stands to be lost in the warming world.
