Amid the din

To be within a gull colony is to experience a true cacophony of noise. In this instance it is my presence within this colony of nesting lesser black-backed gulls, some 3,400 pairs strong, that is the reason for the noise. Perceived as a predator I am the target of screeching adults, who additionally splatter me with excrement and dive at my head. The hat and overalls that I am wearing are a necessity and both will be consigned to the boil cycle of a washing machine. Working as part of a small team, I am here to catch and ring a sample of the chicks.

It is an early season this year and many of the chicks are almost capable of flight. The few pairs on eggs or young chicks are probably replacements for earlier failures. The vegetation within the colony has also benefited from the warm spring, being much thicker than usual. This has made it more difficult to find and catch the chicks, which have been using a network of runways through the stalks of nettle, wild turnip and thistle to slip out of reach.

Each of the 150 or so chicks to be ringed is handled with care, both for the bird’s welfare and our own. The chicks will strike at face and flesh, and will invariably throw up the contents of their most recent meal in attempt to drive you away. While some throw up fish, others return marine worms, scavenged waste (including, in one case, burger and chips) and young rats. Since there are no rats on the island, these will have been taken on the mainland. All in all, ringing these birds in order to derive a measure of annual survival is an unpleasant, though necessary, task.

In addition to the metal ring fitted to the bird, each is also given a numbered plastic ring, known as a darvic, allowing the bird to be identified without the need to recapture it again. Records of individuals from this colony have been received from Portugal and even North Africa, underlining that many of our lesser black-backed gulls make significant movements. It doesn’t take long to complete our task and as we leave so the cacophony begins to die down.

Pink-footed Goose will have a tale to tell

It is amazing to see so many Pink-footed Geese out on the marsh. The numbers here today are significantly greater than I have seen on the site before and are more reminiscent of the North Norfolk coast. I am, instead, far inland, walking the marshes that border the River Yare not far from Norwich. Admittedly, the numbers of winter pink-feet on these marshes have increased over recent winters, so the presence of such a large flock should not be that unexpected.

As I have remarked before, the ‘grey’ geese can represent something of an identification challenge for the birdwatcher, testing skills on dull, late-winter afternoons. It doesn’t help that this particular site often holds several different goose species, individuals of which may mix together. This flock of pink-feet is straightforward enough though. With the sun behind me, and the advantage of a flood bank from which to scan, I steadily work my way through the flock, tally counter clicking away in my hand as the numbers steadily increase.

There is one particular individual that catches my attention, however, because it is sporting a silver-grey neck collar on which are written three large letters. This is a bird that has been caught by researchers, either somewhere within Britain or elsewhere in Europe, perhaps even in Iceland. While the use of these neck collars does not do the birds any harm, it is carefully regulated, remaining a tool for those studying the movements of these birds between different sites, or indeed different countries. I know that I will be able to send this record off and, by doing so, add another piece of the jigsaw to help researchers understand which wintering sites are important to which breeding populations. If we are to protect and conserve these geese then we need to know as much as possible about where they go and when.

Britain is a particularly important wintering destination for these geese, with virtually the entire Icelandic breeding population, and most of the east Greenland population, spending the winter here. While many favour coastal saltmarshes, many more now move onto arable land, where they can feed on sugar beet, waste potatoes and barley stubble. The switch to these new food sources highlights the adaptable nature of these geese, something that can also be seen in their wintering strategy. Individual birds have large feeding ranges but still have a favoured core area within this. The geese will move between sites, especially as the winter progresses and they disperse away from the places at which they initially staged upon arrival. This approach means that they can respond to local food availability and, by doing so, presumably increase their chances of getting through the winter in good condition.

The stench of success

It is not so much the stench that gets you but the waste, the sheer volume of household detritus that is scattered layers deep over such a vast area. This is my first time on a waste tip and it is truly shocking to see the fragments of furniture, unwanted toys, endless plastic trays and countless shoes that have ended up here for landfill. This is not a place I want to be but it is where we stand the best chance of catching gulls for a colour-ringing project with which we are involved.


Setting the net is a well-drilled exercise; we roll out the hessian, onto which the net is neatly folded, then set up the ‘cannons’ whose projectiles, when fired, will carry the net over the feeding birds. Everything is checked and double-checked before we retreat some distance to wait. One of the bulldozer drivers adds some fresh refuse to the catching area and then the gulls appear. 


Hundreds of gulls that had been loafing around the site take to the air and I am reminded of sleet against a dark November sky, such is their number. The first birds down to feed are the Black-headed Gulls, but the larger gulls quickly follow them: mostly Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gulls, with the odd Great Black-backed lurking menacingly. The net can only be fired when the safety-zone is clear of gulls so we miss taking several catches because of gulls stood too close to the folded net. The flock feeds quickly and then is gone. More fresh refuse is added and the process repeated until, finally, we can fire. There is a loud bang and the net is up and over the birds in an instant. We rush from our hiding place to secure the net and carefully extract the gulls, which are then placed in hessian sacks to keep them still and calm.


It is only when you get these birds in the hand that you appreciate the delicate nature of the Black-headed Gulls and the brute strength of the Herring Gulls. All of the larger gulls are immatures, either born this year or last, and we work our way through the sacks, ringing and recording before the colour rings are fitted. These also carry a number and are visible enough for birdwatchers to read the number and report it. It should tell us a lot about gull movements, something already evident from this morning’s catch as we have caught a bird ringed in Denmark and one from the Czech Republic. One of the gulls, its foot covered in the expandable foam used by builders, highlights the hidden dangers of feeding at landfill sites and underlines our impact on the natural world.

Regular watching pays dividends

Spend any time watching garden birds and you’ll soon realise that there is a great deal going on in your average garden. However, what you see is merely scratching the surface of what is really happening and much remains hidden from view because, to our eyes, most individuals of a given species look alike. The handful of Blue Tits that you see daily at your hanging feeders may, in reality, be many dozens of different individuals, which use your garden on a daily, weekly or seasonal basis.

As a trained and licensed bird ringer, I have been able to appreciate the numbers of individuals that may make regular use of a garden feeding station. Even so, I still need to catch the birds regularly to discover which individuals are still popping in for a feed. One way in which it is possible to build up a more complete picture of the lives of individual birds is through colour ringing, a technique by which licensed bird ringers fit birds with unique combinations of coloured rings. Once fitted with such rings a bird can be identified as an individual without the need to recapture it.

Colour ringing is best used for targeted projects, seeking to look in detail at a population of birds within a given area. This might be at the scale of the Blackbirds using a series of gardens in Holt (as is the case for one Norfolk-based project) or it might be at the scale of Black-tailed Godwits moving between Iceland and various sites in Britain and continental Europe (research being carried out by staff at UEA).

Looking in detail at a particular population invariably adds to our knowledge, revealing more about behaviour, ecology and survival. Colour ringing of birds has, for example, been used to look at breeding behaviour, highlighting which birds hold which territories and with whom they breed. At the same time it can change your perception of the numbers of birds that make up your ‘local’ population. Colour ringing of Great Spotted Woodpeckers at Croxton, just on the edge of Thetford Forest, has been taking place over the past six years. Some 63 different individuals have been colour ringed at the feeding station in this time and resightings by the site’s owner have revealed much about how these local birds are using the feeders. One female visited the feeders almost every day for five years, while another was a regular visitor for three years, only to disappear and then return two years later.

Colour ringing also enables members of the public to report any colour-ringed birds that they may see. Simply contact the British Trust for Ornithology’s ringing scheme (www.ring.ac) and let them know what you have seen and where.