Gulls VS Roofers
There are very few things wrong with Lucien Pissarro’s 1918 painting, ‘All Saints’ Church Hastings, Sun & Mist’. It bears his trademark Pointillist style and the muted hues of the neo-Impressionist movement. The view, drawn on a foggy day looking down from the East Hill on to the medieval graveyard, details the red-tiled roof to perfection, except for one obvious flaw. Where are the seagulls?
It’s possible that in the early part of the last century these winged muggers were still minor blots on the landscape, but should Pissarro decide to return today he might have to dab a few more white blobs on his canvas. In fact, from my experience, he may have to change the colour of the roof completely. As I look down from the opposing West Hill on to my (our) house, I can barely see the slates for their trademark deposits. I can, however, see the gaping hole in the gulley in desperate need of repair and the rainwater gutters disabled under the weight of decades of rotten nesting material.
‘Mend the roof while the sun shines’ the saying goes, but in Hastings this notable nugget of advice has one major drawback; the mating season of the herring gull starts in spring and lasts till August. Roofers are not known for their lack of pluck, but a small colony of beady eyed gulls represents something of a challenge. Territorial, noisy, unpleasant and capable of delivering a masterclass in menace, these cackling, huge (34-inch wingspan) sociopaths have the law on their side. They are a protected species, covered by the 1981 Wildlife and Countryside Act. (Why? Is surely the question.)
The penalties for disregarding the law can be severe. According to the ruling: No action may be taken against the gulls themselves and it is illegal to kill, harm them or interfere with their nesting sites. The maximum fine is £5,000 and/ or a six-month prison sentence. As it is, their damage to my roof, and undoubtedly several of my neighbours’, far exceeds the maximum fine but clearly there is no chance of counter suing. As the weather warms, it is a race against time. Will the roofers be able to get their scaffolding up and the work done before the end of March?
In essence, it should be possible. According to the defi nitive text, The Herring Gull’s World, written by Niko Tinbergen in 1953, the birds should have migrated off, only to return to their breeding ground (my roof) in time for the business of population-building. But even a cursory look around the town would suggest that most of them haven’t left the queue outside the Dolphin chip shop in years. So far it’s Gulls 1, Roofers 0.
Next week: Golf for pirates…
It’s possible that in the early part of the last century these winged muggers were still minor blots on the landscape, but should Pissarro decide to return today he might have to dab a few more white blobs on his canvas. In fact, from my experience, he may have to change the colour of the roof completely. As I look down from the opposing West Hill on to my (our) house, I can barely see the slates for their trademark deposits. I can, however, see the gaping hole in the gulley in desperate need of repair and the rainwater gutters disabled under the weight of decades of rotten nesting material.
‘Mend the roof while the sun shines’ the saying goes, but in Hastings this notable nugget of advice has one major drawback; the mating season of the herring gull starts in spring and lasts till August. Roofers are not known for their lack of pluck, but a small colony of beady eyed gulls represents something of a challenge. Territorial, noisy, unpleasant and capable of delivering a masterclass in menace, these cackling, huge (34-inch wingspan) sociopaths have the law on their side. They are a protected species, covered by the 1981 Wildlife and Countryside Act. (Why? Is surely the question.)
The penalties for disregarding the law can be severe. According to the ruling: No action may be taken against the gulls themselves and it is illegal to kill, harm them or interfere with their nesting sites. The maximum fine is £5,000 and/ or a six-month prison sentence. As it is, their damage to my roof, and undoubtedly several of my neighbours’, far exceeds the maximum fine but clearly there is no chance of counter suing. As the weather warms, it is a race against time. Will the roofers be able to get their scaffolding up and the work done before the end of March?
In essence, it should be possible. According to the defi nitive text, The Herring Gull’s World, written by Niko Tinbergen in 1953, the birds should have migrated off, only to return to their breeding ground (my roof) in time for the business of population-building. But even a cursory look around the town would suggest that most of them haven’t left the queue outside the Dolphin chip shop in years. So far it’s Gulls 1, Roofers 0.
Next week: Golf for pirates…