About A Week: Seagulls
Peter Hinchliffe reveals that some British cities are being besieged by seagulls. Had film producer Alfred Hitchcock, maker of that creepy epic "The Birds'', been alive to read this story, he would probably have said "Told you so!''
Every time summer comes around I remember boyhood holidays by the sea.
And for our family the seaside meant one specific place - Whitby.
The anticipatory drive across the rolling North Yorkshire moors in a small Austin car. The first glimpse of Whitby Abbey from the top of that giant hill, Blue Bank.
Parking on the West Cliff outside the boarding house where we were booked in for a fortnight…
Then, as soon as the car doors opened, there was the smell of salt and fish in the air. And the Whitby sound…
The mewing, echoing conversations of seagulls.
Day-long, gulls soared and wheeled over Whitby harbour, engaged in never-ending chatter. They perched and conversed on the roof-tops of the shops and cottages in the old whaling town’s narrow streets.
When we returned to the boarding house after a day of resolute pleasure, as like as not there would be a couple of gulls on its roof, ready to sound a hoarse greeting.
Gulls skimmed over the stocky masts of the herring boats as they set out at dusk for a night’s fishing, pitching and swaying to the insistent rhythms of the North Sea as they ventured beyond the protective arms of the piers.
When the boats off-loaded their catches at the quayside shortly after dawn, the gulls, expecting a throw-away feast, made enough of a racket to serve as Whitby’s natural alarm clock.
For me, gulls have always been associated with happy holidays.
But for many, the town-dwelling seagull is associated with nuisance, noise — and danger.
Not long ago an 80-year-old Welshman suffered a fatal heart attack after being swooped on by gulls.
Postal deliveries in a London street were abandoned after postmen were repeatedly attacked by a gull.
A lady in Brixham found her dog Poppy dead with a beak-sized hole in the head.
Eleven people were attacked by gulls in one year in Montrose, Scotland.
And a councillor in Edinburgh has called for an in-depth assessment of the problems being caused by gulls.
She suggests that measures could include removing nests, destroying eggs and using hawks to deter the seagulls which are a menace in Scotland’s capital.
In one part of the city residents have hired a bird of prey to help clear their area of gulls.
Fully-grown gulls have fearsome beaks.
A Royal Society for the Protection of Birds spokesman said that town centre living had become an easy alternative to seagulls’ cliff-top nesting sites.
The birds can live in chimneys and feed on scraps and fast-food litter.
They now rear their young in urban surroundings, becoming very protective.
“Our view is that they don’t set out to deliberately attack people,’’ said the spokesman, “but they view us as a threat.’’
I live midway between England’s east and west coasts, yet I often see gulls. Come ploughing time, fields around me turn white as large flocks of gulls gather to feast on newly-exposed worms.
Not for a moment have I felt threatened by the banqueting flocks. But when next I go to Whitby, I’ll wear a cap.
Don’t fancy one of those territorial birds dive-bombing my bare bonce, having mistaken me for a threat.
