Ornithological biography, Vol. 4 (of 5)

by John James Audubon

On weighing several of the Gannets brought on board, I found them to average rather more than seven pounds; but Mr Godwin assured me that when the young birds are almost ready to fly, they weigh eight and sometimes nine pounds. This I afterwards ascertained to be true, and I account for the difference exhibited at this period by the young birds, by the great profusion of food with which their parents supply them, regardless in a great measure of their own wants. The Pilot further told me that the stench on the summit of the rock was insupportable, covered as it is during the breeding season, and after the first visits of the fishermen, with the remains of carcasses of old and young birds, broken and rotten eggs, excrements, and multitudes of fishes. He added that the Gannets, although cowardly birds, at times stand and await the approach of a man, with open bill, and strike furious and dangerous blows. Let me now, Reader, assure you that unless you had seen the sight witnessed by my party and myself that day, you could not form a correct idea of the impression it has to this moment left on my mind.

The extent of the southward migration of the Gannet, after it has reared its young, is far greater perhaps than has hitherto been supposed. I have frequently seen it on the Gulf of Mexico, in the latter part of autumn and in winter; and a few were met with, in the course of my last expedition, as far as the entrance of the Sabine River into the Bay of Mexico. Being entirely a maritime species, it never proceeds inland, unless forced by violent gales, which have produced a few such instances in Nova Scotia and the State of Maine, as well as the Floridas, where I saw one that had been found dead in the woods two days after a furious hurricane. The greater number of the birds of this species seen in these warm latitudes during winter are young of that or the preceding year. My friend John Bachman has informed me that during one of his visits to the Sea Islands off the shores of South Carolina, on the 2d of July 1836, he observed a flock of Gannets of from fifty to an hundred, all of the colouring of the one in my plate, and which was a bird in its first winter plumage. They were seen during several days on and about Cole’s Island, at times on the sands, at others among the rolling breakers. He also mentions having heard Mr Giles, an acquaintance of his, who knows much about birds, say, that in the course of the preceding summer he had seen a pair of Gannets going to, and returning from, a nest in a tree! This is in accordance with the report of Captain Napoleon Coste, who commanded the United States Revenue Cutter, the Campbell, placed at my disposal during my visit to the Texas, and who was Lieutenant as well as Pilot of the Marion. He stated that he had found a breeding place on the coast of Georgia, occupied by a flock of old, and therefore White Gannets, the nests of all of which were placed upon trees. No one can be greatly surprised at these reports, who knows, as I do, that the Brown Gannet, Sula fusca, breeds both on trees and on dry elevated sand bars. During winter months I have generally observed single birds at some considerable distance from the shore out at sea, sometimes indeed beyond what mariners call soundings, but rarely young ones, they generally keeping much nearer to the shores, and procuring their food in shallower water.

The flight of the Gannet is powerful, well sustained, and at times extremely elegant. While travelling, whether in fine or foul weather, they fly low over the surface of the water, flapping their wings thirty or forty times in succession, in the manner of the Ibis and the Brown Pelican, and then sailing about an equal distance, with the wings at right angles to the body, and the neck extended forwards. But, Reader, to judge of the elegance of this bird while on wing, I would advise you to gaze on it from the deck of any of our packet ships, when her commander has first communicated the joyful news that you are less than three hundred miles from the nearest shore, whether it be that of merry England or of my own beloved country. You would then see the powerful fisher, on well-spread pinions, and high over the water, glide silently along, surveying each swelling wave below, and coursing with so much ease and buoyancy as to tempt you to think that had you been furnished with equal powers of flight, you might perform a journey of eighty or ninety miles without the slightest fatigue in a single hour. But perhaps at the very moment when these thoughts have crossed your mind, as they many times have crossed mine on such occasions, they are suddenly checked by the action of the bird, which, intent on filling its empty stomach, and heedless of your fancies, plunges headlong through the air, with the speed of a meteor, and instantaneously snatches the fish which its keen sight had discovered from on high. Now perchance you may see the snow-white bird sit buoyantly for a while on the bosom of its beloved element, either munching its prey, or swallowing it at once. Or perhaps, if disappointed in its attempt, you will see it rise by continued flappings, shaking its tail sideways the while, and snugly covering its broad webbed feet among the under coverts of that useful rudder, after which it proceeds in a straight course, until its wings being well supplied by the flowing air, it gradually ascends to its former height, and commences its search anew.

In severe windy weather, I have seen the Gannet propelling itself against the gale by sweeps of considerable extent, placing its body almost sideways or obliquely, and thus alternately, in the manner of Petrels and Guillemots; and I have thought that the bird then moved with more velocity than at any other time, except when plunging after its prey. Persons who have seen it while engaged in procuring food, must, like myself, have been surprised when they have read in books that Gannets “are never known to dive,” and yet are assured that they “have been taken by a fish fastened to a board sunk to the depth of two fathoms, in which case the neck has either been found dislocated, or the bill firmly fixed in the wood.” With such statements before him, one might think that his own vision had been defective, had he not been careful to note down at once the result of his observations. And as this is a matter of habit with me, I will offer you mine, good Reader, not caring one jot for what has been said to you before on the subject.

I have seen the Gannet plunge, and afterwards remain under the surface of the water for at least one minute at a time. On one occasion of this kind, I shot one just as it emerged, and which held a fish firmly in its bill, and had two others half-way down its throat. This has induced me to believe that it sometimes follows its prey in the water, and seizes several fishes in succession. At other times I have observed the Gannet plunge amidst a shoal of launces so as scarcely to enter the water, and afterwards follow them, swimming, or as it were running, on the water, with its wings extended upwards, and striking to the right and left until it was satiated. While on the Gulf of Mexico, I wounded a Gannet, which, on falling to the water, swam so fast before the boat, that we rowed about a quarter of a mile before we reached it, when it suddenly turned towards us, opened its bill, as if intent on defending itself, but was killed with the stroke of an oar by one of the sailors. When shot at without even being touched, these birds often disgorge their food in the manner of Vultures; and this they always do when wounded, if their stomach and gullet happen to be full. Sometimes, after being wounded in the wings, they will float and allow you to take them, without making any attempt to escape. Nay, my young friend, George C. Shattuck, M. D., of Boston, while with me at Labrador, caught one which he found walking amongst a great number of Guillemots, on a low and rocky island.

When they are on their favourite breeding rocks, and about to fly, they elevate their head, throw it backward, open the bill, and emit a loud prolonged cry, before launching themselves into the air, in doing which they waddle a few paces with their wings partially extended. After starting, their first motion is greatly inclined downwards, but they, presently recover, and seem to support themselves with ease. When they are twenty or thirty yards off, you observe them shaking the tail sideways, and then hiding their feet among the under coverts of the tail. At other times they suddenly open their feet, moving them as if for the purpose of grasping some object below, in the same manner as some hawks, but only for a few moments, when again the tail is shaken, and the feet hidden as before. They beat their wings and sail alternately, even when flying around their breeding places.

On the ground the movements of the Gannet are exceedingly awkward, and it marches with hampered steps, assisting itself with the wings, or keeping them partially open, to prevent its falling. Their walk, indeed, is merely a hobble. When the sun shines, they are fond of opening their wings and beating them in the manner of Cormorants, shaking the head meanwhile rather violently, and emitting their usual uncouth guttural notes of cara, karew, karow. You may well imagine the effect of a concert performed by all the Gannets congregated for the purpose of breeding on such a rock as that in the Gulf of St Lawrence, where, amidst the uproar produced by the repetition of these notes, you now and then distinguish the loud and continued wolfish howling-like sounds of those about to fly off.

The newly-finished nest of this bird is fully two feet high, and quite as broad externally. It is composed of seaweeds and maritime grasses, the former being at times brought from considerable distances. Thus, the Gannets breeding on the rocks in the Gulf of St Lawrence, carry weeds from the Magdalene Islands, which are about thirty miles distant. The grasses are pulled or dug up from the surface of the breeding place itself, often in great clods consisting of roots and earth, and leaving holes not unlike the entrances to the burrows of the Puffin. The nests, like those of Cormorants, are enlarged or repaired annually. The single egg, of a rather elongated oval form, averages three inches and one-twelfth in length, by two inches in its greatest breadth, and is covered with an irregular roughish coating of white calcareous matter, which on being scraped off, leaves exposed the pale greenish-blue tint of the under layer.

The birds usually reach the rock when already paired, in files often of hundreds, and are soon seen billing in the manner of Cormorants, and copulating on the rocks, but never, like the birds just mentioned, on the water, as some have supposed. The period of their arrival at their breeding grounds appears to depend much on the latitude of the place; for, on the Bass Rock, in the Firth of Forth, which I had the pleasure of visiting in the agreeable company of my learned friend William Macgillivray and his son, on the 19th of August 1835, the Gannets are first seen in February, whereas in the Gulf of St Lawrence they rarely reach the Great Rock until the middle of April or beginning of May; and at Chateau Beau in the Straits of Belle Isle, not until a fortnight or three weeks later. Like the members of most large communities, the Gannets, though so truly gregarious at this season, shew a considerable degree of animosity towards their more immediate neighbours as soon as incubation commences. A lazy bird perhaps, finding it easier to rob the nest of its friend of weeds and sods, than to convey them from some distant place, seizes some, on which the other resents the injury, and some well-directed thrusts of their strong bills are made, in open day and in full view of the assembled sitters, who rarely fail to look on with interest, and pass the news from one to another, until all are apprized of the quarrel. The time however passes on. The patient mother, to lend more warmth to her only egg, plucks a few of the feathers from some distance beneath her breast. In sunny weather, she expands those of her upper parts, and passing her bill along their roots, destroys the vile insects that lurk there. Should a boisterous gale or a thick cold fog mar the beauty of the day, she gathers her apparel around her, and shrinks deeper into her bed; and should it rain, she places her body so as to prevent the inundation of her household. How happy, Reader, must she be when now and then her keen eyes distinguish in the crowd her affectionate mate, as he returns from the chase, with loaded bill, and has already marked her among the thousand beauties all equally anxious for the arrival of their lords! Now by her side he alights as gently as is in his nature, presents her with a welcome repast, talks perhaps cheeringly to her, and again opening his broad wings departs in search of a shoal of herrings. At length, the oval chest opens, and out crawls the tender young; but lo! the little thing is black. What a strange contrast to the almost pure white of the parent! Yet the mother loves it, with all the tenderness of other mothers. She has anxiously expected its appearance, and at once she nurses it with care; but so tender is it that she prefers waiting a while before she feeds it. The time however soon comes, and with exceeding care she provides some well macerated morsels which she drops into its open mouth; so well prepared are they that there is no instance on record of a Gannet, even of that tender age, having suffered from dyspepsia or indigestion.

The male Gannet assists in incubating, though he sits less assiduously than the female; and, on such occasions, the free bird supplies the other with food. The sight of the young Gannet just after birth might not please the eye of many, for it is then quite naked, and of a deep bluish-black, much resembling a young Cormorant. Its abdomen is extremely large, its neck thin, its head large, its eyes as yet sightless, its wings but slightly developed. When you look at it three weeks afterwards, it has grown much, and almost entirely changed its colour, for, now, with the exception of certain parts of the neck, the short thighs, and the belly, it is covered with yellowish soft and thick down. In this state it looks perhaps as uncouth as at first, but it grows so rapidly that at the end of three weeks more, you find its downy coat patched with feathers in the most picturesque manner imaginable. Looking around you, you observe that all the young are not of the same growth; for all the Gannets do not lay on the same day, and probably all the young are not equally supplied with food. At this period, the great eyrie looks as if all its parts had become common property; the nests, which were once well fashioned are trampled down; the young birds stand everywhere or anywhere; lazy-looking creatures they are, and with an appearance of non-chalance which I have never observed in any other species of bird, and which would lead you to think that they care as little about the present as the future. Now the old birds are freed of part of their cares, they drop such fish as they have obtained by the side of their young, and, like Cormorants, Pelicans, or Herons, seldom bring a supply oftener than once a-day. Strange to say, the young birds at this period do not appear to pay the least attention to the old ones, which occasionally alight near them, and drop fish for them to feed upon.