ON THE WING
Standing at the summit of the Glenorchy tip with grey clouds over the mountain threatening snow, it occurred to me there was a downside to birding.
Once upon a time it was enough to just watch birds and revel in the beauty of their plumage and sweet melodies. Now it’s incumbent on the birder to also engage in citizen science to record bird numbers, especially of the many species decreasing in population across the country.
So on a winter’s day, here I was at the Glenorchy tip, facing into a chilly wind with not enough power in it to carry the smell of rotting rubbish away from my nostrils.
Species of kelp gulls (pictured) and silver gulls were having a fine old time, as were forest ravens. Despite my discomfort, I wasn’t complaining. I was making a difference, even if the subject of this project – gulls – might not be at the forefront of the fight to save birds in general.
Gulls occupy a niche in conservation science, which is not only about vanishing species but also about how birds can be a pointer to the health of an environment which embraces humans. Not only can they indicate poisons, such as lead, on land and in water they can also mirror the health of the people with whom they share the habitat.
Gulls tend to share the same unhealthy fast food and, as I have written in the past, recent research into the health of city gulls has taught us they are afflicted by very much the same health issues as city-dwelling humans. Namely, they are obese from a lazy lifestyle in which they do not have to travel far for food, and as a result have dangerous levels of cholesterol and glucose.
Birdwatchers are ideal candidates for citizen science because their hobby involves noting and counting bird species. Instead of merely compiling lists of birds for checklists of species spotted, birdwatchers are now increasingly monitoring bird populations on their home patches for a database compiled by national organisation BirdLife Australia.
Of the three species found in Tasmania, kelp gulls were clearly the majority at the tip, with about 300 of them flying around. I was also tasked with separating the species into groups incorporating black-and-white adults, juveniles between two and four years in “salt and pepper” plumage, and first-year birds which are mainly clothed in brown. Silver gulls were easier: there were only about 10, and none of the third species of gull found in Tasmania, the Pacific gull, which prefers a marine environment.
Comparing surveys over the years, BirdLife Tasmania reports gull numbers in Tasmania are holding their own. But that’s not to say they are in good health.