Last time I was on a beach, I dropped a fry and a seagull grabbed it.
Obviously, I didn't want a fry covered with sand, so I didn't mind. However, I discovered that the seagull who got the first fry would chase off any other seagulls that came to bother me. Each time I saw him doing that, I'd "drop" another fry.
I hired a seagull body guard with French fries.
That bird was absolutely on top of that situation. After a little while, the other seagulls all gave up and left me alone, so he didn't even have to do any more work for the fries, just stand watch.
Edit: Of course, this was on the US East Coast, and seagull relations are a little different on this side of the pond. I understand there might still be some sore feelings over there after the seagull wars. Some wounds take longer to heal.
There's some crows (Or other corvid birds, I'm not a birdologist) that like to hang out in my backyard tree.
I try to make friends, I bring them bread out there whenever I see them but they never come down to take it. Ive tried holding it out stretched and leaving it on the outdoor table and retreating inside, but they never seem to want to take it :(
Yeah, I agree with the other person who replied. Try some fruit.
I've never had any luck with corvids. I've even gone so far as to run into the grocery store to buy fruit for them when I saw some crows hanging around the parking lot, but they were gone by the time I came out.
These gulls began as simple scavengers circling around fishing vessels, picking off the small fish thrown back from the boats before they reached the docks.
Beginning in the Victorian age, when the newly forged middle class emerged from the industrial cities to travel by train to the seaside towns of Blackpool, Llandudno, and Scarborough.
They built sea-steaded monolithic piers of pleasure and amusement, grand hotels by the dozen, and sea-front shops a-plenty, all to cater to the new summer tourists.
The food scraps are now strewn across the shoreline like a driftwood from a tidal surge. No longer must they exhaust themselves flapping above tempestuous waters praying and squabbling over a toss-back from the fisherman's trawler.
For many decades, a steady stream of seasonal sun-seeker families kept the gulls fat for the winter, they grew accustom to scavenging man's processed food discards.
They learnt to hunger for the sweet swirls of vanilla ice-cream atop a delicate wafter cone, so easily torn to shreds by their flocks when an unfortunate child happens to stumble and let it slip from thier grasp onto the ground.
The newspaper bouquet of cripsy, fluffy, potatoes enough to feed a flock orbiting above observing, waiting for the opportune time for one to fall.
Or a chance to swoop and take straight from the source when the bountiful pile is left unattended for a moment.
Then in the 1960s, the holiday makers dwindled slowly at first but then rapidly as the pasty common brit chose to invade the shores of Spain, France, and Greece bringing unsightly sunburnt skin, bad fashion sense and horrible drunken choices.
The scraps dried up. The gulls became ravenous. They grew bolder. No longer able to perch idly by the rooftops and fences for droppings from the masses, they started to approach them begging for a little morscle. The council and RSPB saw the signs of what these birds might become and hung warnings not to feed them, lest they become dependent on humans.
But it was too late.
They now dive-bomb and shriek at the families who can't afford to EasyJet over to the continent for a week.
They fight over the scraps, yearn to snatch food right from your hands, and salivate to swarm the unattended child, and bite the ice-lolly from their little fingers.
They've grown past the drive for food, they now crave the hunt. Who knows, soon they may crave the flesh.
As a Norwegian that deals with traditional seagulls that circle fishing vessels, i was completely shocked when i went to Brighton. I saw seagulls attacking family that were dumb enough to have a picnic on the beach. I was completely shocked. Your post surely cleared the mystery for me.
Dutchie here. We are slowly advancing to the rescue. We have already conquered the south sea, so the north sea is up next. Give us a little time and all seagulls will become poldergulls
killing or injuring a seagull is a
criminal offence in Britain, as they are
protected by the Wildlife and
Countryside Act 1981. This law
covers England, Wales, Scotland and
Northern Ireland, and imposes a
penalty of up to £5,000 or six months
in prison for anyone who intentionally
harms a wild bird.
Same deal here in the States. As part of the Migratory Bird Act, seagulls as well as almost every other bird save for pigeons and starlings, are protected. Killing one can land you in prison or up to 15,000 in fines.
Not disagreeing about the cruel part but some of these birds live and breed because of humans. They survive in place where they couldn't without humans.
For a bird to get caught usually implies they aren't feeling so good.. imagining killing a sick seagull makes me sad.
They're aggressive and rude about trying to survive, yes, but we're top of the food chain, and have kinda nicked a tremendous amount of their fish out of the water.
(Shrug) what's done is done, but I'd lose a lot of respect for this man if I knew him.
If you don't understand the seagull war then don't comment. It just makes you look silly. Now pick up one of those kites with the metal edges and follow me.
Edit to add: I know my Halloween costume this year.
No, you don't understand, these seaguls are fucking hench your average person isn't going to to start a fight with one. Bazza here is just built different.
Im not disagreeing with you, but isn't there at least a mild amount of barbarity in slaying a creature with your bare hands because it inconvenienced you?