were spread before a propitious breeze, and onward she might be seen
gaily wending her way toward the shores of Labrador. We had well
explored the Magdalene Islands, and were anxious to visit the Great
Gannet Rock, where, according to our pilot, the birds from which it
derives its name bred. For several days I had observed numerous files
proceeding northward, and marked their mode of flight while thus
travelling. As our bark dashed through the heaving billows, my anxiety
to reach the desired spot increased. At length, about ten o’clock, we
discerned at a distance a white speck, which our pilot assured us was
the celebrated rock of our wishes. After a while I could distinctly see
its top from the deck, and thought that it was still covered with snow
several feet deep. As we approached it, I imagined that the atmosphere
around was filled with flakes, but on my turning to the pilot, who
smiled at my simplicity, I was assured that nothing was in sight but
the Gannets and their island home. I rubbed my eyes, took up my glass,
and saw that the strange dimness of the air before us was caused by the
innumerable birds, whose white bodies and black-tipped pinions produced
a blended tint of light-grey. When we had advanced to within half a
mile, this magnificent veil of floating Gannets was easily seen, now
shooting upwards, as if intent on reaching the sky, then descending
as if to join the feathered masses below, and again diverging toward
either side and sweeping over the surface of the ocean. The Ripley now
partially furled her sails, and lay to, when all on board were eager
to scale the abrupt sides of the mountain isle, and satisfy their
curiosity.
Judge, Reader, of our disappointment. The weather, which hitherto had
been beautiful, suddenly changed, and we were assailed by a fearful
storm. However, the whale-boat was hoisted over, and manned by four
sturdy “down-easters,” along with THOMAS LINCOLN and my son. I remained
on board the Ripley, and commenced my distant observations, which I
shall relate in due time.
An hour has elapsed; the boat, which had been hid from our sight, is
now in view; the waves run high, and all around looks dismal. See what
exertions the rowers make; it blows a hurricane, and each successive
billow seems destined to overwhelm their fragile bark. My anxiety is
intense, as you may imagine; in the midst of my friends and the crew I
watch every movement of the boat, now balanced on the very crest of a
rolling and foaming wave, now sunk far into the deep trough. We see how
eagerly yet calmly they pull. My son stands erect, steering with a long
oar, and LINCOLN is bailing the water which is gaining on him, for the
spray ever and anon dashes over the bow. But they draw near, a rope is
thrown and caught, the whale-boat is hauled close under our lee-board;
in a moment more all are safe on deck, the helm round, the schooner to,
and away under bare poles she scuds toward Labrador.
THOMAS LINCOLN and my son were much exhausted, and the sailors required
a double allowance of grog. A quantity of eggs of various kinds, and
several birds, had been procured, for wherever sufficient room for
a gannet’s nest was not afforded on the rock, one or two Guillemots
occupied the spot, and on the ledges below the Kittiwakes lay thick
like snow-flakes. The discharging of their guns produced no other
effect than to cause the birds killed or severely wounded to fall into
the water, for the cries of the countless multitudes drowned every
other noise. The party had their clothes smeared with the nauseous
excrements of hundreds of gannets and other birds, which in shooting
off from their nests caused numerous eggs to fall, of which some were
procured entire. The confusion on and around the rock was represented
as baffling all description; and as we gazed on the mass now gradually
fading on our sight, we all judged it well worth the while to cross
the ocean to see such a sight. But yet it was in some measure a
painful sight to me, for I had not been able to land on this great
breeding-place, of which, however, I here present a description given
by our pilot Mr GODWIN.
“The top of the main rock is a quarter of a mile wide, from north to
south, but narrower in the other direction. Its elevation is estimated
at about four hundred feet. It stands in Lat. 47° 52´. The surf beats
its base with great violence, unless after a long calm, and it is
extremely difficult to land upon it, and still more so to ascend to
the top or platform. The only point on which a boat may be landed lies
on the south side, and the moment the boat strikes it must be hauled
dry on the rocks. The whole surface of the upper platform is closely
covered with nests, placed about two feet asunder, and in such regular
order that a person may see between the lines, which run north and
south, as if looking along the furrows of a deeply ploughed field. The
Labrador fishermen and others who annually visit this extraordinary
resort of the Gannets, for the purpose of procuring their flesh to bait
their cod-fish hooks, ascend armed with heavy short clubs, in parties
of eight, ten, or more, and at once begin their work of destruction. At
sight of these unwelcome intruders, the affrighted birds rise on wing
with a noise like thunder, and fly off in such a hurried and confused
manner as to impede each other’s progress, by which thousands are
forced downwards, and accumulate into a bank many feet high; the men
beating and killing them with their clubs until fatigued, or satisfied
with the number they have slain.” Here Mr GODWIN assured us that he
had visited the Gannet Rock ten seasons in succession, for the purpose
just mentioned, and added, that on one of these occasions, “six men had
destroyed five hundred and forty Gannets in about an hour, after which
the party rested a while, and until most of the living birds had left
their immediate neighbourhood, for all around them, beyond the distance
of about a hundred yards, thousands of Gannets were yet sitting on
their nests, and the air was filled with multitudes of others. The
dead birds are now roughly skinned, and the flesh of the breast cut
up in pieces of different sizes, which will keep good for bait about
a fortnight or three weeks. So great is the destruction of these birds
for the purpose mentioned, that the quantity of their flesh so procured
supplies with bait upwards of forty boats, which lie fishing close to
the Island of Brion each season. By the 20th of May the rock is covered
with birds on their nests and eggs, and about a month afterwards the
young are hatched. The earth is scratched by the birds for a few inches
deep, and the edges surrounded by sea-weeds and other rubbish, to the
height of eight or ten inches, tolerably well matted together. Each
female Gannet lays a single egg, which is pure white, but not larger
than a good-sized hen’s egg. When the young are hatched, they are
bluish-black, and for a fortnight or more their skin is not unlike that
of the common dog-fish. They gradually become downy and white, and when
five or six weeks old look like great lumps of carded wool.”
I was well pleased with this plain statement of our pilot, as I had
with my glass observed the regularity of the lines of nests, and seen
many of the birds digging the earth with their strong bills, while
hundreds of them were carrying quantities of that long sea-weed called
Eel-grass, which they seem to bring from towards the Magdalene Islands.
While the Ripley lay to near the rock, thousands of the Gannets
constantly flew over our heads; and although I shot at and brought
several to the water, neither the reports nor the sight of their dead
companions seemed to make any impression on them.
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.
Gannets do not feed, as some have supposed, and as many have believed,
on herring only; for I have found in their stomachs codlings eight
inches in length, as well as very large American mackerels, which, by
the way, are quite different from those so abundantly met with on the
coasts of Europe.
The young never leave the spot on which they have been reared until
they are well able to fly, when they separate from the old birds, and
do not rejoin them until at least a year after. Although I have in a
few instances found individuals yet patched with dark-grey spots, and
with most of their primary quills still black, I am confident that it
is not until the end of two years that they acquire their full plumage.
I have seen some with one wing almost pure black, and the tail of that
colour also; others with the tail only black; and several with pure
black feathers interspersed among the general white plumage.