Wedged in the middle of a pub packed full of people screeching like seagulls to the tune of happy birthday, I had one of those record-scratch moments. How did I get here?
I’m in a little town on Belgium’s coastline called De Panne, squeezed into The Lost Shrimp pub for the annual European gull screeching championships. Yes, really.
Over the course of two hours, more than 70 people get up on a small stage to have a go at mimicking the high-pitched cry of the common seagull.
Most of the contestants are in elaborate gull costumes. A quarter of the judges’ points are awarded for looking and acting like a seagull, with the rest of the marks going for the quality of the screech.
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There are handmade yellow bills on noses, knitted seagull masks, a lot of white face paint and diving fins for the webbed feet. Some of the screeches are uncanny.
Now in its sixth year, the competition was put together by Claude Willaert, as a lighthearted way to push back against the bad reputation gulls get. The inaugural contest was limited to Belgian entrants before quickly going international.
“People need to have more sympathy for these beautiful sea birds,” Willaert says. They are, he maintains, “acrobats in the air”. An environmental educator who gives talks in schools, he says “no one believed that this idea could work”.
Amalia van Vaerenbergh is in De Panne on her hen party. The itinerary had the group getting lunch at a nearby cafe followed by a train back to Aalst – or so she thought.


“They were like ‘surprise we’ve entered you, but we will be joining you, and it’s in one hour’,” she says.
Three of them took to the stage in the group or “colony” category.
“The wedding is in June, I’m totally prepared for anything now,” she told The Irish Times afterwards.
A group of eight friends have made the journey from Palamós, Catalonia. One of them, Alex Pages, climbs to the stage in a seagull onesie. The gang have been on the beer for the day and it is getting sweaty inside the small pub. White face paint streams down Alex’s cheeks as he screeches.
Carving a path to the stage through the crowd proves tricky (particularly so for one chap wearing yellow diving flippers as part of his costume). Fake white and black feathers are trampled into the floor of the pub.
Patricia Steenacker is here with a group of sea swimmers from nearby Ostend, who have crafted gull-themed headgear made from rubbish collected on the beach.
People need to have more sympathy for these beautiful sea birds
— Claude Willaert
“It is the fourth time for us and we’re competing this year with a message: seagulls are fantastic, don’t feed them plastic,” she says.
“We should keep the beaches clean, because all creatures need a clean environment.”
At one point the crowd sings Happy Birthday to a contestant on the stage – in “seagull”, naturally, rather than English or Flemish.
The contestants have come from 15 different European countries. There’s no Irish entry – but there’s always next year.
Cooper Wallace (11), dubbed “the seagull boy from Chesterfield”, won the juvenile category the previous two years and went viral in the process. He gives it another great shot, but finishes as a runner-up this time.
So, what’s the secret to screeching like a gull?
“Technically I can’t give it away, but I can give you a good tip, which is drinking warm honey and lemon before your screeching competition,” he tells me afterwards. His voice has started to mature since he first claimed the title. “I have to adapt,” he says.

His younger sister, Shelby (8), is also taking part and offers another tip: “If you want to keep your throat good to do the screech, you’ve got to drink a lot of water.”
There’s a respectful quiet before each entrant takes the microphone followed by wild cheers afterwards.
Olga Méndez is a comedian from the Spanish coastal city of Vigo, and includes a seagull routine in her stand-up. Friends repeatedly sent her links to the Belgian competition, encouraging her to enter.
“I said, why not? I’m here to defend the seagulls ... I think that it’s so crazy but so funny,” she says. Her screech earns her a silver medal in the adult category. Top spot goes to Carine Gronholz, from Oslo, Norway.
Apart from fame and glory, the adult medallists take home some complimentary booze, while there are hampers and games for the juvenile winners.
Willaert has some parting advice for anyone put out by gulls nesting on the roof of their house.
“You just have to go and march on to your rooftop, imitate a seagull and then they won’t be breeding on your rooftop,” he says, cheerfully.













