Country diary: The wild, riotous sounds of otters in battle

Common otters. ‘And there, again – two small heads pop up, turn to one another, and seem to wrestle.’ Photograph: Robin Chittenden/Alamy

I hear them before I see them: a wailing, or something more like ululation. High-pitched, repeated vocalisations that are neither man nor cat, but somewhere in between. I throw open the cabin door, unsure what to look for, and for a moment see nothing new: only the rocky strand and the sweep of dark wrack high above the shoreline.

The strange, warbling sound comes again. Ai-ai-ai-ai. Not quite screaming, not quite howling, not quite trilling, but all of those things at once.