We had just been seated on the deck at Sam's Anchor Cafe in Tiburon when I remarked to my husband, "There used to be seagulls along the railing when we'd come here after volleyball games in the 70's". That's how long it had been since I'd been there. Now I could only see a few pigeons walking around under the tables. No seagulls. Seemed odd for a dining area outside over the water.
We decided to sit side-by-side to enjoy the view across the Bay. The San Francisco skyline was visible and it was a gorgeous day. We ordered clam chowder and fish and chips. When the waitress brought the food, I remembered to take a food-blog picture before diving in to what looked like two wonderful pieces of fish. I asked Joe to move over to the right so I could get a better shot. I took the picture (see above) and as I was checking the camera screen I felt this commotion (that's the only way to describe it) near my right shoulder and out the corner of my eye, I saw something white moving between us.
It took us a second or two to realize what had happened. It was that fast. When I looked at the plate and saw only one piece of fish, I knew we had been raided––from behind–– by one determined seagull! We were stunned. There had not been a seagull in sight but one was diving into our fish before we did!
The waitress casually walked over to our table and just looked at us. I asked her if she could replace our order since the bird had absconded with a piece of fish, knocked over the cup of tartar sauce and for all we knew, grabbed some fries. Then (as opposed to telling us earlier) she gave us the warning: "Yeah, those seagulls are very aggressive. You kind of have to hunch down and hover over your plate so they can't see your food." Seriously?
When I studied the "crime scene" I saw that one seagull perched on the roof above the deck dining area and watched for just the right moment. No longer did the seagulls hang out on the railing waiting for food to drop or be thrown their way––they just went for what they wanted. They'd certainly evolved over the past 30 some years. This one saw his opportunity when I asked Joe to "lean to the right so I could take the mandatory food-blog picture."
When our very low-key waitress brought the replacement fish, we "hovered over and covered"our plates (try it––you lean forward and hunch over your plate as you look furtively around to make sure the coast is clear!) and––fortunately, the fish was delicious. We just tried not to think of the Hitchcock movie about some other aggressive birds. So we ate and ran––just in case.
The lesson here is––if you do choose to dine on the outdoor deck of a restaurant that is over water and you don't see any seagulls––you might ask why or request a window seat, with a view, inside.
