WE don’t know the full story. Did he have a hot toddy to hand? Was there a heap of damp labradors steaming in front of a gun-room fire? And were his friends ribbing him over a very obvious and witnessed miss? All that’s certain is Sir Hugh Eyre Campbell Beaver, managing director of the Guinness Brewery, was one of a party shooting the North Slob, by the River Slaney, Co Wexford, Ireland, on November 10, 1951, when the argument began: which was faster, the grouse or golden plover?
It was a good question—both are renowned for their pace, but how fast are they? Which is, indeed, quicker? No one knew. Nor could the answer be found in the house library. At that moment, Sir Hugh realised the world needed a handy guide to the fastest, biggest and tallest: The Guinness Book of Records — now Guinness World Records—was conceived.
Avian speeds have probably fascinated man since we trudged out of caves, feet firmly stuck on the mud, and continue to do so. The fastest, all agree, is the peregrine, at about 200mph; however, that’s achieved in its stoop—more a controlled plummet than true flight. The record holder for controlled, level flight could be the swift (69.7mph), the gyrfalcon (68mph) or the eider duck (47.2mph), all of which have had their speeds ‘clocked’.
These figures do not stand as firmly as, say, Olympic swimming finals or the tennis serve speeds that appear on the Wimbledon courts, because conditions vary, especially the wind. Yet however difficult it is to gauge a bird’s flight velocity, some of us continue to monitor it as carefully as our eyesight and experience permit. Our supper depends on it.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning