Pigs make space

THE most enduring friendships, it's often held, are made with those with whom we have things in common.

On my first week in Alderney I was lucky enough to come across a whole bunch of such promising specimens. Ten, to be exact.

Like me, they're slightly messy, nosy and prone to spending far too much time thinking about their tea.

I present to you Alderney's finest litter of Oxford Sandy and Black rare breed pigs, Alderney Wildlife Trust's latest weapon in their mission to repopulate the island with native trees.

I made the acquaintance of these engaging fellows during a bout of energetic scrub clearing with trust volunteers on my first weekend here.

The Community Woodland Project, adjacent to Rue de Longis, aims to see a total of 10 hectares covered in new woodland, plus a fruit orchard and glades.

A riot of brambles, blackthorn and bracken currently covers much of the land and even after they are cut down, remaining roots mean they'll compete with newly planted trees for soil nutrients and light.

Cattle have long been used to keep grass and scrub down, but the porcine squad was a Channel Islands first.

The pigs are tackling the problem root and branch – bramble root, nettle root and bracken branch, to be exact.

Alan Woodnutt and his wife Tess's day job is running Alderney electrical shop, London House. But in their spare time they run a 70-strong free-range pig farm at the Giffoine.

'We were at a barn party and we were talking about the woodland project with the Wildlife Trust and I said, "what you need is some pigs", because I had seen them used on the TV,' said Alan.

Conservation officers researched the idea and found pigs had been put to excellent use clearing bracken in Scotland. They are naturally inclined to snuffling through earth in search of crunchy roots and their waste slowly releases phosphorus into poor soil.

Oxford Sandy and Black pigs are a 200-year-old rare breed, making them ideally suited to the job.

Unlike hybrids bred for intensive farming, they retain weatherproof hairy skin and an instinct to forage. 'Hybrid pigs probably wouldn't know what to do in the wild,' said Alan. 'For these, finding roots – and those they don't eat they'll leave on the surface – is the most natural thing in the world.'

So far, the idea has proved a success. In just over a week and a half of happy snuffling they have reduced a hectare of brambles to mud, perfectly preparing the ground for planting next month. For me and my new pals, it's a date.

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What's been the biggest culture shock about moving to Alderney?

Discovering the chief executive on the board of something grand-sounding doubles up as the shopkeeper, who also organises the annual daft raft race?

The price of a tube of Pringles?

Yes to both, but the thing that really strikes me afresh in some form every day is Alderney's unique system of trust. To someone like me, fresh off the plane from Liverpool (who for the record has never had her hubcaps stolen in that fair city, although in Birmingham her car was stolen twice), it's astounding. Honesty boxes next to trays of home-grown vegetables. Car keys left in ignitions. Guest house owners who leave the front door unlocked.

If only it was a gift you could wrap up and send home with the puffin postcards and Guernsey fudge.