Chapter 10: Lady Muck

“Gulls don’t have the same rights as other birds”, someone said. I was indignant; “When it comes to conservation, there shouldn’t be a difference between one species and another.” I argued that the Environment Agency should have leeway to look after Britain’s rarest breeding bird when it joins the flocks at Poole’s landfill sites. “But do they join them?” asked Graham. I argued that there had been 40 records at the tip over the years. “Not many when you think of the numbers of birds in the harbour, Mark.” He had a point.

So the Baroness and her henchman weren’t really villains? If I wasn’t able to fit them up with the harassment of Britain’s rarest breeding gull, they still have a case to answer. James moving to the Netherlands for a start, and they stopped Herring Gulls feeding at tips. Now there’s a bird that really is in trouble. 

In the ‘40s, Herring Gulls were at a bit of a low, but with the help of new bird protection legislation they were soon back on the increase. The real catalyst however was the introduction of The Clean Air Act in 1956, which banned the burning of rubbish. Together with our increasing willingness to throw food away (currently running at 350 kilos of waste food per person per year), it created an inexhaustible supply of food for the gulls at rubbish tips, which they were quick to exploit. 

Things started going wrong on a local level when in 1965 Herring Gulls nesting on Brownsea lagoon had their eggs destroyed to help the terns. Traditionally a cliff-nesting bird, Herring Gulls normally just make scrape nests lined with weeds. On Brownsea, however, the largest number nested in the trees on Caroline Cliffs, the southern high ground behind Brownsea Castle. Here, in what was surely the world’s only tree nesting colony of the species, nests were woven with sticks and lined with moss. At its peak in 1971, there were 930 pairs.

By 1981, Tony Wise could still describe them as “the most numerous breeding bird on Brownsea”, despite the fact that the colony had now nearly halved in number to around 500 pairs. In fact, Herring Gull populations were crashing everywhere, and within a further seven years the colony was down to 100 birds. Nowadays it has gone completely, and there are none breeding on the island. 

Maybe the decline in nesting wasn’t just to do with the egg pricking. Traditional cliff-nesting Herring Gull numbers also show a markedly downward trend, halving from 1993 to 2009. Nobody is really sure what is causing the decline. Perhaps the decline in the number of fishing boats has had an influence. Some say that the ecology of our coastal environment is irreparably changing. In 1990, Herring Gulls started nesting on the roofs in Poole Old Town (CD1-40). Working there with them is a delight in my opinion. Whatever the cause, these birds are abandoning the cliffs for the urban lifestyle in order to survive, causing much consternation amongst us their new hosts. 

Herring Gulls are now in such decline that they have joined Dartford Warbler and Nightjar on the Red List of species most in need of conservation. Despite this, the Environment Agency’s real boss, The Department of Environment, Food and Rural Affairs, still issues general licenses that allow Herring Gulls to be killed and their eggs and nests legally destroyed. Perhaps the RSPB should make amends for Baroness Young’s deeds and feature Herring Gull in their Aren’t Birds Brilliant campaign.

Another gull nesting on Poole’s rooftops, although in smaller numbers, is Lesser Black-backed Gull (CD1-41). They are something of an enigma in Poole Harbour. If you walk around Poole Harbour on an average spring or autumn day you would do well to see more than 10 birds, but if you hung around the Wareham Channel on the same evening you could count over 2,000. That’s because for most Lesser Black-backs, Poole Harbour is basically a Travelodge. Both migrants and wintering birds spend the day somewhere else, then as the light begins to fail they come to spend the night in Poole Harbour. Many don’t arrive until it is nearly dark, and many more turn up when we can’t even see them. Then at daybreak they are off again, not even stopping to pick up breakfast. 

When there is an evening low tide or particularly bad weather, the gulls arrive earlier for a wash and brush up. This is when most of the harbour’s high counts are obtained at Lytchett Bay, which has fresh running water and is ideally placed between Corfe Mullen tip (still used as a pre-roost site after the hawkers have left) and the main Wareham Channel roosts. In 2007, our harbour gull survey included a co-ordinated harbour roost count, which produced a total of 4,850 birds. Some came in very late and were difficult to identify, but the majority were thought to be Herring Gull.

Best species of the 2007 co-ordinated count award went to Dave Chown for his Ring-billed Gull off of Swineham Point. Historically, however, Lytchett Bay is the best place to look for Ring-billed. Shaun found the harbour’s first there on 18 April 1996. Since then, there have been a further 11 records in the harbour, seven of which have been at Lytchett, including three in a year. Unfortunately, much of Lytchett is strictly private, so we really enjoyed the most recent ‘pond jumper’, a very confiding first-year Ring-billed at Poole Park in February 2011, where it could be seen by birders coming to visit our latest Long-billed Dowitcher. We didn’t manage to sound record the Ring-billed, but in case you wonder how they sound, here is a recording of adults in New Jersey (CD1-42). Magnus did record the dowitcher, which considering it was so tame proved to be more difficult than you might imagine (CD1-43). 

The gull count also produced around 21,000 roosting Black-headed Gulls, many of these also having spent their day inland. Nick worked out their daily itineraries by attempting to follow them to and from the roost by car, which proved a little hazardous at times. The furthest birds north were found at Fifehead Magdalen, a little village on the River Stour and an 86 km round trip for the few birds that made it this far. Birds that followed the River Piddle were found as far as Piddlehinton, a 60 km round trip from the Poole roost. Interestingly, these birds actually ended up a lot nearer to the Weymouth Bay roost but chose to remain loyal to the more distant Poole one. Not all birds were quite so adventurous, however. For some their daily trip involved visiting Poole Park where they patiently loafed, waiting for the breakfast to be served at 10:00, when the gates open and the public arrive with bags of stale bread. 

If Ben Pond were to come back and look for breeding Black-headed gulls, he would be impressed by their continual adaptation. After being driven from Little Sea, they were pushed from pillar to post by fires, forestation, and most recently commercial egg collecting, which almost finished them off. He would also be glad of the happy ending. Today the colony at Holton Heath islands is nearly 9,000 strong, representing around 5% of the British breeding population. They are being helped in no small part by their continental cousin the Mediterranean Gull, whose discovery on the islands ensured their long-term protection. Fortunately for both species, the islands are not easily visited, so I recorded these Black-headed on the shore at Holton Lee during Lushfest, where they like to socialise (CD1‑44).

Ewan Brodie found the first Mediterranean Gull in the harbour as it bathed on Little Sea in the afternoon of 20 April 1976. In May the following year Keith Godfrey found a breeding pair on Brownsea. They attempted to breed but without success. Still, this got everybody’s pulses racing. In 1986 Dave Collins, while doing his survey in the harbour, discovered a pair of summer plumage birds frequenting the Holton Heath islands, and realised that they must be breeding among the Black-headed Gulls. 

At the time, gulls’ eggs were being collected by local fishermen under license, but Mediterranean Gull was a Schedule 1 bird and could not be disturbed. The locals had a good thing going selling the eggs off as Quails’ eggs, and they were not going to give up that easily, but despite their protestations, the egg collecting licenses were revoked in 1990, by which time there were six pairs of Mediterranean Gulls on the islands. 

The egg collectors were peeved and carried out nocturnal raids, so the RSPB had to coordinate watches, helped by us volunteers and Dorset Police’s Marine Section. As John Day wrote, however, this was not enough. “Unfortunately the surveillance of the colonies has not prevented many of the eggs laid in early April from illegally being taken in some years. When culprits have been caught, they have been prosecuted. Even court cases and publicity did not stop the whole colony being totally collected out between early April and the 20th April 1996” (Pickess & Underhill-Day 2002).

Numbers have since increased dramatically, with an RSPB survey in early May 2008 conservatively counting 87 Mediterranean Gull nests. As expected, there was also evidence of a few nests being washed away by the flood tide. Adult summer Mediterranean Gull is a very handsome bird. If you haven’t seen one you are in for a treat. Brownsea lagoon in April is the best place for close views. Here the rather vocal summer plumaged adults, often already in pairs, can be seen practicing their courtship techniques before they move onto the breeding islands. But they can be seen at many other places in the harbour as well. The two in CD1-45 were passing the rookery at Ower Quay on their way towards Studland Bay. Listen to the distinctive low-high-low inflection of their call note. Although they do have other sounds in their repertoire, this is the one that nearly always alerts us to their presence, so it is a very useful call to learn.

Baiter is another favourite pre-breeding haunt. Late afternoons are best here, when birds gather on the shoreline before going to roost. Up to 40 adult birds have been counted here recently, providing a real treat as I cycle past on the way home from work. Post-breeding sees birds heading back to a traditional wintering area at Studland Bay. From as early as June, failed breeders arrive to join up with the few immature birds that have spent all summer here. Later, numbers are supplemented by the year’s juveniles, many bearing foreign leg rings, having already crossed the channel. In CD1-46, you can hear how juvenile Mediterranean Gulls sound in early autumn. A good time to hear them is when they are feeding on flying ants, as was the case when Magnus made this recording in Bulgaria.

Nick has been keeping his eye out for ringed birds here for the past few years, recording birds from France, Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany. Sending in bird ring sightings doesn’t always guarantee a reply, so he was pleasantly surprised to receive a rather excited email from some Germans who had ringed one of the Studland birds as a pullus, even sending him a photo of ‘their’ bird as a youngster.

Pim Wolf, a dedicated birder and ringer from Zeeland in the southwest of the Netherlands, also had reason to be excited on 28 August 2008. After a morning being shown the delights of Poole Harbour by Nick and Magnus, they all stopped off at Studland’s South Beach café for some refreshments. While getting through their pasties and hot chocolate, they found three Belgian-ringed birds, one of which Pim himself had ringed as a chick.

As winter progresses some birds move on, but good numbers can still be seen here. They like to feed on the invertebrates in the seaweed. This normally just involves a bit of pecking. Sometimes if the prey jumps, the bird may have to leap and catch it in mid-air. If the weather is bad, they scavenge among the flotsam and jetsam in the bay. Even really rough weather with gale force winds will not deter them from feeding among the large breakers, at a time when most other gulls are keeping their heads down. CD1-47 was recorded in early January in Portugal, and may well involve birds that have passed through Poole Harbour. Research has shown that Portugal is the main wintering area for Mediterranean Gulls from northern Europe (Poot & Flamant 2006).

Returning to James Lidster, before moving to the Netherlands, he did achieve one last ambition. While he was surveying the gulls off of the Holton Heath islands for this book in the late afternoon of 17 January 2008, he realised that there were so many birds coming in that he just couldn’t keep up and so abandoned the count. He decided to settle for just scanning through the many Common Gulls to search for something interesting, perhaps a Ring-billed Gull. Then in the failing light he came across a small, dark-mantled gull. He had to do a double take, not quite able to believe what he was looking at. After some panic then a moment’s composure he had a proper look. It was obviously small with a diminutive, all-dark bill and he could make out white eye-crescents. He was watching a Franklin’s Gull.

Further panic ensued as he tried to phone everyone, while at the same time taking a photo with the same phone in the failing light. Nick jumped in his car and drove for all he was worth, through Wareham up through Sandford and along the heavily pot-holed road down to Holton Lee. Nick ran from the car, adrenalin pumping through his system, and after a rather desperate sprint up the fields, across the bridge and through the bramble strewn path, he scrambled frantically down the bank to the shoreline. He reached James’s scope gasping for breath and shoved his eye to the eyepiece, just in time. As for Mo and I, we got there a little too late to see it. We tried a couple more times, but no luck. It’s on Nick’s list and I know he saw it, but sometimes I’m not so sure he has the same confidence in me… 

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