BIRDS OF OCEAN.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 19180, 10 December 1927, Page 13

BIRDS OF OCEAN.

(wBITTtS »0« THB P8835.)

[By Arnold Wall.]

s.s. Narkunda, November Bth,

The movements of sea-birds in the air, especially those of the larger sorts, like the albatross, are always beautiful to watch. They easily surpass the most graceful movements of other things in Nature; of running waters, drifting clouds, dancing gnats, and even of Charleston legs. When life aboard ship is at its dullest, skies scowling, winds cold and blustering, passengers sick or bored, games and sports unorganised, natural affinities as yet undetermined am! love affairs not yet even in the incipient stages, it is ever a solace to watch the evolutions of the birds in attendance behind and above the vessel. One never wearies of watching and admiring the albatross, the combined grace and dignity of all its motion, the long shallow curves of its sweeping flight, the banking at the steep turns, the boomerang lines of its slender plumes, the ease and swiftness with which it overtakes the ship after dropping a mile or so astern to compete with its fellows for some rich windfall from the galley, and its supreme indifference to the birds of less august race than itself. Sometimes one will come close in and float along level with the deck, only a few feet from the eyes of the passenger, who can then sec the faint collar of pale brown or pink about its neck, and the eager yet placid expression in its all-seeing eye, and the beautiful lines of the body and the extended legs. Snapshooters with cameras lie in wait for such opportunities and certain regrettable Anglo-Saxon instincts come into evidence. "00, I could kill it now!" shouts a tiuy boy, and is very properly reproved for his bloodthirstiness by a not very much older brother. For the want of anything better to do on a voyage from New Zealand to Ceylon during October and November of this year, 1927, I made a few notes and observations upon this bird-life of the oceans, and only regret that the opportunities were so limited and my knowledge of ornithology so slight. And I was not fortunate enough to get much assistance from fellow-passengers or members of the ship's company.

During tho wholo of the journey from Wellington to Sydney tho albatrosses and those other largo dark birds which 1 have heard called "mollymawks," were present in great numbers, Vs soon as Cook Strait was cleared, apparently, they joined up, and in the cold, unpleasant weather they gave us all something to look at and talk about, There were always plenty of albatrosses quite close to the ship, except when some unusually rich prize attracted all hands, and they would become a confused mass of white as they settled on the creaming waters, and rapidly receded from view, until, the spoil disposed of, they returned on easy wing, and resumed their coaseless survey of our wake. But the open waters are their world, and as soon as the ship enters the heads they return to that world, evidently abhorring the very sight of land, except that of those distant, stormy isles whither they must go at the proper season to breed. During the timo of the ship's progress along the coast of Australia, from Sydney to Melbourne, and from Melbourne to Adelaide, this programme was repeated, but I was not able to tell whether the birds followed the ship by night or whether we picked up a fresh lot every morning. The birds wero albatrosses and the large black-backed gull, not, I think, " molly-mawks. This gull is a noblo bird, and a worthy companion for the royal albatross. While we were crossing the Australian Bight, from Adelaide to Fremantle, I kept a fairlv constant watch, and made the following rough computations ot the number of > albatrosses following us: We loft Adelaide at 5 p.m. on October 27th; at sunset on the 28th there were at least one hundred birds in attendance. At 8 a.m. on the 29th there were about fifteen; at 10 only about six; at midday about 20; at 2 p.m., about 25; at 4 p.m. and 6 p.m about the same number, 25 to 30. On the 30th there were again about M at a a.m., and again not more than six at 10 a.m.; at midday from 2o to 30; at 2 p.m. only about a dozen, and another ship was then passing; thereafter there were only about 15, and as we arrived at Fremantle early the next morning I could not tell how many saw us into harbour. , • T v We started forth into the Indian Ocean from Fremantle at 4 p.m., ana no ocean-going birds had joined us before dark. At 9 a.m. on *.°vernber Ist when we were about 200 miles fiom the Australian coast, no albatrosses were visible, but at 9.30 ono was followine, and this was the last seen on this trip Whether this was some disgruntled bachelor, or some more than usually adventurous or more greedy soul than the average one can only cuess. We were accompanied all day by a few of the large black-baoked gulls which had been with the albatrosses in the Bight. During November 2nd. when we were about 700 miles from tho Australian coast, the ship was quite unattended, but during the afternoon one bird was seen at a distance, not following tho ship, hut going about its own business alone. It is comparativelv small, nearly black, and it flies with" a rapid flickering, irregular motion, exhibiting none of the usual leisurelv dignity of the great ocean species.' This, of course, was a Motnor Carey's chicken. Some of them had been generally in sight during tho previous week. On November 3rd, when we must .have been about 1809 miles from Australia and not loss than from the Cocos Islands, I again saw one solitary individual of this species in the distance, apparently not at all interested in the ship. This was the loneliest bird seen and the farthest distant from any conceivable home or breeding or resting place. I had been told that we should see birds again when approaching the Cocos proup. On November 4 th, at about 7 a.m. when we would be about 150 miles from these islands a gull was seen and thereafter during the whole day littlo companies of the .same bird were about us. This was a bright white swift-flying species with long legs or tail, long beak, and very narrow wings —perhaps not a gull. These birds did not seem to tako any notice of, or interest in, the ship, seldom came close enough to be clearly observed, and never followed in our wake looking for scraps. I supposed that they might be preying on flying fish which were very plentiful hereabouts. We passed the Cocos Islands in the late afternoon; they were not visible, as we did not come within less than forty miles of them. On November oth no birds at all were about in the early morning, but after mid&ay, when we' would bc about 300 miles from the Cocos Islands and 1200 from Ceylon, t saw a M.C.C., and about 5 p.m. a solitary Cocos Island gull (for want of a better name) passed over the ship. We must have been nearly 400 miles from its headquarters at that time. No other birds were seen all this day. .. on _ N °vember"6th, as we approached the Equator, no bird at all was seen.

We passed the Line during the early morning of the 7th. During the whole of the 7th, as we approached Ceylon, a strict watch was kept and at last, about C p.m., when wc were about 250 miles from the nearest point of land, a solitary gull was seen —the first representative of the birds of the Northern Hemisphere. Thus November 6th was the only entirely birdless day during this voyage. A few interesting questions arise from my hasty and imperfect observations. One wonders, for instance, whether the small number of albatrosses behind the ship at about 10 a.m. on two successive mornings is anything more than a coincidence. No reason suggests itself and of course very little could be built upon so slender a base. Then it seems to me difficult to account for the poverty of bird life in tropical waters. Flyingfish are very numerous all along and doubtless these waters are rich in foodstuffs. The absence of convenient nest-ing-sites is hardly a sufficient explanation, since oceanic birds are such great travellers, and one can hardly suppose that the great heat is any hardship to sea-going birds, or that it would sap their wonderful energies. But, perhaps, those matters are well understood by those in the know. I will close these random notes on a note of admiration and gratitude. How great a solace the great birds were in the old days of sailing-ships, wc may well guess, since even in these times of rapid travel they add much to the delights and subtract much from the tedium, of ocean journeys. And there is surely something inspiring in the wonderful adaptation of these beautiful creatures to their strange watery existence, and in the success with w'tuh they have achieved, to the envy of all creation, the Simple Life. ;