CHARM OF THE RED-BILLED GULL

Forest and Bird, Issue 54, 1 November 1939, Page 6

CHARM OF THE RED-BILLED GULL

By David H. Graham.

A BEAUTIFUL AND USEFUL BIRD

THE writer has often spent much of his time at Spirits’ Bay, Opotiki and Dunedin observing the red-billed gulls, and their domestic affairs. To me they are one of the most amusing birds to watch; they are fascinating and are a very interesting study; their antics, their attitude to each other, their watchfulness of human beings or dogs are most artful. I have seen a sheep-dog almost frantic in attempting to catch a gull which kept only just a safe enough distance to elude capture and yet keep the dog pursuing. It is interesting to observe with what jealousy they view, and with what boldness they attack, any of their kind who may be engaged in devouring the choicest morsels, and to hear the favoured one with the curious chuckling it makes in its eagerness to gobble the food before it can be snatched away by another bird. From our research launch, I have seen scores of these birds flying quickly up and down and around from all quarters, shrieking and clamouring for food. When my mate began to clean a fish and started to throw the offal overboard, the sea around the stern of the moving launch was almost covered with gulls. I have seen them on the wing, so numerous as to cast a shadow over the launch. It is amazing and fascinating to stand at the tiller of the launch steering through the waves and watching the gulls nimbly dodging and swooping down to catch pieces of fish offal in the air. Sometimes when we were coming from Cape Saunders, nearing the Otago Heads, not a gull would be seen; but, when anything was thrown overboard, only a few minutes would elapse before we were surrounded by shrieking redbills, all in motion like pieces of white paper in a whirlwind. Their flight is swift and lively, and this flying at all angles makes an interesting study. ’ Then at times I have seen them so glutted with food as to reduce their power of speed, in which case they rest till the advancement of digestion restores their wonted powers; then they return to the feast with the same gusto as before. As often as not the successful gull is so harrassed by his own kind and larger gulls that the coveted morsel is dropped, and in a twink-

ling there is a mad rush of wings and a wild scramble with much squawking from all the other gulls endeavouring to seize the prize before it sinks below the surface. And so it goes on until all the offal is eaten; then they fly to some headland to clean and preen their KING OF THE CASTLE. It is at one of these places when the gulls have congregated that a great deal of amusement can be obtained a delightful subject for a movie camera. It may sound ridiculous, but with little or no imagination, the author has often watched them playing a game which appeared to me as “I’m the King of the Castle.” The highest part of a heap of rocks or an anchored boat serves as the “castle” and one may watch amusedly at these birds having turns pushing one another off the highest part. The one on top will extend his neck and utter loud, derisive calls, challenging the others to come on. In a second a bird with sufficient courage will fly straight to the “King” (challenger), and either take possession of the “castle” or swoop past. As often as not the challenger flies to meet the foe, and while it is so doing the nearest gull quickly takes the vacant peak. In all these gatherings there is at least one bossy or bad-tempered bird which struts about squawking and attempting to peck those within reach, but rarely catching them. Then when all is quiet they find repose by standing on one leg, with heads down, as if “at ease,” and continue in this attitude till some disturbance takes place. When these gulls leave one place for another distant part their flight is strong, buoyant, direct and unwavering, but on ordinary occasions it is somewhat devious. It is quite a common occurrence to see scores of these birds at the Otago Heads, attempting to drag or devour some stranded fish while it if in shallow water. In such a work there is no quarter given, and each one expects to be pursued if he is fortunate to tear off a piece larger than he can swallow. One would expect such clean, dainty-looking birds to be capricious in their choice of food,

rather than to be, as they are, scavengers that delight in eating disgorged and putrid fish or in feeding at the mouth of a creek which draino either a soap factory, tannery or by-product plant. Very few are able to estimate the services rendered by these dainty birds. Dairy and agricultural farmers have come to regard them as efficient exterminators of myriads of grubproducing insects, whose larvae are a scourge to the crops or grass. Times without number, in various parts of New Zealand, have I watched them following the plough, devouring grass

grubs and cleaning up the Australian crickets, which were a curse in the Waikato at one time. While I was farming in the Bay of Plenty, about two miles inland, they often visited my place, hunted the paddocks and returned to the shore in time for low tide. This return to the seashore proved to me that rhythm played an important part in their behaviour to tides. If anyone takes notice, he will see, as I did in that district, these birds are always back at their natural feeding grounds before the tide is out, waiting for dead low water to gather “the early worm” left by slack water.