OCEANIC BIRD LIFE 229 



South of Melbourne lies the small and secluded Phillipp Island, linked 

 to the mainland by a causeway. It has a broad sandy beach, sand-dunes 

 overgrown with marram-grass, and pools. Breeding on the pools were 

 numerous black swans (Cyg7ius atrata), and there were also some small 

 flocks of the small sharp-tailed sandpiper (Calidris acuminata) ; but the 

 most interesting birds, the shearwaters, were among the dunes, which 

 were riddled with hundreds of their nesting tunnels. The entrances were 

 the size of large rat-holes and the strong smell, almost of sheep, betrayed 

 at once that the holes were inhabited by petrels. If you put your arm 

 into these holes )ou would often get a sharp nip, but on plucking up 

 courage could pull out an adult short-tailed shearwater (Pujjinus teniuro- 

 stris). This is a cousin of the sooty shearwater, and closely resembles it 

 in habits and appearance. 



Our excursion to Philipp Island was arranged so as to enable us to 

 spend the night among the dunes and witness the fascinating scene in a 

 penguin and petrel colony when the birds return to their breeding-grounds 

 after dark. 



The little penguin was found among the dunes in a colony of several 

 hundred pairs, along with the shearwaters. The nesting tunnels of the 

 penguins were larger in diameter than those of the shearwaters, and 

 were shorter. At that time (December) there were large young in the 

 nests. During the day they would be left to themselves while the parents 

 were out catching fish for them. Two hours after dark the penguins came 

 ashore. They came in riding the surf in small flocks of lo — 20 birds or 

 fewer, and walked the short distance to the dunes. Though it was pitch- 

 dark with an oxercast sky and showery rain, they made straight for their 

 nests, following well-worn tracks. 



The shearwaters arrived at about the same time. Their colony was as 

 alive with birds during the evening and night as it had been dead during 

 the day. If you were lucky, you would catch a glimpse in the light of a 

 pocket torch of countless birds in swift flight. Coming from the black 

 night sky was the continuous call of arriving birds. They were answered 

 by their mates in the nests, so that one heard duets between birds in flight 

 and others in the ground under one's feet. When the incoming bird found 

 its hole it vanished into it at once, and then the noise began in earnest. The 

 joy of reunion reached an astonishing pitch, as though they had really 

 missed each other. 



All the smaller tubinares (small petrels and shearwaters) with a few 

 exceptions are nocturnal birds on their breeding-grounds. It is as though 

 these birds, which outside the breeding season spend all their time on the 



