Linden Evans is wearing an apron that says "Dad, the man, the legend". He has oven mitts on and is pulling out trays of dripping mutton bird from his backyard smoker.
It has a deep seafood smell with a hint of chicken.
Hames, the dog, is quick to lick any that spills on the shed floor.
On Flinders Island in Tasmania, everyone can tell you their favourite mutton bird recipe.
Everyone has a couple of birds tucked away in their freezer for a special occasion.
"Or at least you know someone who does," says resident Hatch Newman.
"I measure it out in the freezer, so we have enough all year until next season."
You might know them as shearwaters.
The birds fly a whopping 13,000 kilometres from Alaska to shores around Bass Strait and back again every year.
On Flinders and Cape Barren Islands, they are known as mutton birds, and they are revered and devoured.
Elder Aunty Dy Summers says eating mutton bird is part of a long culture in the Furneaux Island group.
"I love 'em, I had them last night for dinner, actually," she says.
"My next-door neighbour said, 'I've got some salted mutton bird here. Do you want to come over for dinner?' and I said, 'My word'.
"I curry them, I braise them, I bake them, I fry them, I boil them, I barbecue them.
"The best you can eat is a stuck-up mutton bird, which is a mutton bird on a spit on the coals outside.
"And it's not just Aboriginal culture now. It's a shared culture. It's everybody's culture here."
Pakana man David Lowry says it's always been part of the culture.
"The Aboriginal and broader community on Flinders have always harvested birds and eaten them," he says.
Birding in a bassinet
Fifth-generation Flinders Island local Gwen Bailey says eating mutton bird has been an important part of survival on the remote islands, where supplies are still brought over by boat.
"It was a staple food on the islands, mutton bird and fish. And now, we just love them," she says.
"It's a link that connects us way back. It's been here through the ages as part of a staple diet."
She remembers going mutton birding in the 1940s and 50s, a process that starts with pulling fledgling birds out of their burrow.
"I was in a bassinet when I first went birding," she says.
"When I was about five, Mum would put these long woollen socks on my arms because the birds can bite really sharply.
"I'd go out with Dad and trot around the rookeries and catch a few.
"I was scared putting my arm down the hole. I remember the feeling of the birds pecking you through the socks.
"Dad's hands were absolutely covered in scratches every bird season."
Mutton bird oil revered
The mutton bird season runs for three weekends in April.
To go birding, you need a permit and only certain rookeries are open.
Aboriginal people can own commercial licences, with nine currently in place.
On Flinders Island, even the oil from the mutton bird is revered.
According to retired sailor Mick Barrett, it keeps him "young".
"You have a shot of mutton bird oil and your knees won't creak," he says.
David Lowry has one of the few commercial licences to harvest mutton birds.
He sells mutton bird meat in Tasmania.
"It's not a real big market but you can get them at supermarkets and butchers in Tasmania mainly in April and May," he says.
"The oil has good properties like fish oil, but it's even better."
Dietitian in ageing and brain health Ngaire Hobbins says mutton bird oil is high in marine omega-3 fats, meaning it can support brain function by protecting brain cells and assisting them to access the fuel they need to function at peak capacity.
Ms Hobbins is an accredited practising dietician who has written about properties relating to mutton bird oil in her book about brain food and reducing dementia risk.
"The meat provides good protein and the oil/fat great omega-3s, but also contains a variety of useful nutrients including vitamin A," Ms Hobbins says.
For bones, it may improve people's experience of joint pain, but Ms Hobbins says hunting for the bird is probably just as good.
"Any sort of physical activity is great and it's no doubt good muscle and bone work, scrambling up and down hills and sand dunes," she says.
A local currency
Bartering is alive and well on Flinders Island, and the mutton bird is a flowing currency.
As Linden Evans dishes up his smoked mutton bird, he says he doesn't buy meat anymore.
"I swap the mutton bird for other things, crayfish, fish. It's like that here," Mr Evans says.
"Eat up! [It's] a delicacy!"
Gwen Bailey's favourite recipe has been passed down through her family.
"I learned it from my mother and she learned it from her mother," she says.
"My favourite way is to have a breast and a leg, mix up the seasoning.
"In my seasoning, there are breadcrumbs, herbs, pepper and salt, an onion, a grated apple, and a little bit of butter to moisten it and rub it all together.
"I put the seasoning in the breast, put the leg on top and pop them in a dry baking dish in the oven.
"After about three-quarters of an hour, I turn them. Then another three-quarters of an hour, they're done. Then serve them with mashed potatoes and peas."
It's extremely difficult to find someone on Flinders Island that doesn't love eating mutton bird.
But there is young Deuka Hay, one of the few mutton bird critics.
"Everyone here loves mutton birds, except me. I don't like them. I don't know why," she says.
"Everyone at school, when I say, 'I don't like a mutton bird', they look at me, like, 'What?'"
An 'acquired taste'
So does eating the shearwater harm the bird population?
Sean Dooley from Birdlife Australia says shearwaters are not threatened or endangered.
"The shearwater is probably our most numerous seabird in Australia," Mr Dooley says.
"The population is still healthy but there are threats from plastic pollution and climate change."
He says harvesting is not a major threat to the bird's population.
"They are only harvested in Tasmania. So far it's been sustainable."
And even Mr Dooley has memories of eating mutton bird in Melbourne as a young boy, after his father acquired some at a Frankston pub.
"I remember my Dad, when I was kid, bringing some mutton bird home from the pub and we cooked them up," he says.
"From my memory it was like chicken someone had injected fish oil into, and I haven't eaten it since. I suspect it's an acquired taste."
