A Change Of Heart

Following on from his ‘My history of hawking’ feature in the December 13, 2017 issue, GRAHAM WELLSTEAD explains why an unfortunate series of events led him fly a Harris hawk – and how it turned everything he’d previously thought about the species on its head.

- Graham Wellstead

FALCONRY

UP UNTIL the introduction of the Wildlife & Countryside Act 1981, falconry was still a very low-number sport and it was expected to die out. The success of captive breeding led to an explosion in numbers, but we still knew how many keepers there were. When registration ceased for 90 per cent of people, we no longer had any idea. Hawks and hawk displays became commonplace. Almost everyone knew one or more people who kept, flew, or bred Harris hawks (Parabuteo unicinctus).

In the 1980s, I was happy with my red-tailed hawks (Buteo jamaicensis) and was now flying peregrine falcons, so my life was complete. My all-time favourite bird was a tiercel peregrine who, in my eyes, walked on water and flew like silk. Blind in one eye for 12 of his 17 years, Midnight – of whom I have written before in these pages – was my greatest joy and, although I have no peregrines now, I would like to finish my hawking life with one.