Kingairloch’s Most Beloved Resident

25 March 2025

Mention tame otters, and most people immediately think of Gavin Maxwell, the Scottish naturalist and author best known for Ring of Bright Water. His famous book and its film adaptation recount how, in 1956, he brought an otter named Mijbil from Iraq and raised it at Camusfearna (Sandaig, south of Glenelg).

But Maxwell wasn’t the first to tame a wild otter on the West Coast. Long before him, Hector Currie—the postman who carried the Royal Mail from Kingairloch to Lochaline between 1837 and 1881—had a pet otter named Doran (Gaelic for “otter”). The details of how Doran came into Currie’s care are lost to history, but he arrived as a tiny pup, no bigger than a rat.

Doran quickly became a beloved member of the Currie household. He was highly intelligent, scrupulously clean, and affectionate, responding to a whistle or word of command much like a dog. He was never known to attack humans or other animals unless in self-defence.

In those days, the local sea lochs were teeming with fish, and Doran had a fine palate. Salmon and sea trout were his preferred catch, but he also dined on haddock, whiting, lythe, and saithe—and occasionally even a golden bream or conger eel. At first, he fished only for himself, but he rarely ate more than a few bites from the shoulder or back of the head before leaving the rest for the Currie family’s meals.

With a little training, Doran soon learned to fish for the household. Whenever taken to the loch, he would dutifully bring a catch ashore in exchange for a word of thanks and encouragement. In winter, when fish were scarce, he adapted to a diet of oatcakes, barley scones, porridge, milk, and even broth. Despite his confidence in the water, he was terrified of seals. If he sensed them nearby, he became visibly uneasy and refused to fish, no matter how much coaxing he received.

One morning, Doran left to fish but did not return at his usual time. Worried for their companion, Hector and his family searched the shoreline, calling and whistling for hours with no sign of him. It wasn’t until later that day that a man on the opposite side of the loch pulled in his fishing net and made a heart breaking discovery—Doran, lifeless and tangled in the mesh.

It appeared he had been chasing a herring or mackerel—several were still caught in the net—when he became ensnared. Never having encountered a net before, he was unable to free himself. The family who had cherished him for so long could only conclude, with sorrow, that their beloved Doran had met his end by drowning.

Article courtesy of local historian Iain Thornber.