At first light, when most Tasmanians are still fast asleep, half a dozen Aboriginal men will comb the hummocks of Babel Island in search of mutton bird burrows.

The tiny island off the east coast of Flinders Island in Bass Strait is home to a rookery of more than a million mutton birds, also known as short-tailed shearwaters.

The young shearwaters are killed with a quick snap of the neck. ( Rose Grant )

Unfortunately for the mutton birders, it's also home to a lively population of tiger snakes.

"You put your hand down a burrow and if, when you get your arm down the end of it, it's cold, you pull your arm out quick, because it's clearly not a mutton bird," laughs Michael Mansell, who operates the commercial mutton bird shed on Babel Island.

If a mutton bird chick is in the burrow, the catcher quickly hauls it out and breaks its neck.

The harvested birds are carried back to the shed were a dozen Aboriginal men and women pluck, clean and cool them before packing them ready to send to market.

If the burrow is cold, there might be a tiger snake instead of a mutton bird, says Michael Mansell. ( Rose Grant )

As they work they swap stories about their families and reminisce about past mutton bird harvests.

"All of this stuff sort of floods back in memories as part of sitting down during the day plucking, cleaning and opening the birds," Mr Mansell said.

"Even though it's hard work, you've never heard so many laughs and so many hilarious jokes that are all connected with Aboriginal people."

Tasmanian Aboriginal people have hunted and eaten mutton birds for more than 10,000 years, although today's commercial harvest includes new practices to comply with commercial health and safety standards.

Map Mutton birding in the Furneaux Islands.

Operators lucky to break even

The chicks are valued for their flesh, oil and feathers. ( Rose Grant )

There are commercial sheds on Babel, Chappell and Big Dog Islands (all just off Flinders Island) and on Trefoil Island off the state's north-west coast.

Tasmanian playwright Nathan Maynard, who wrote a play based on his own annual trips to Big Dog Island, has said mutton birding was a cherished family and cultural tradition.

The mutton birders live on the islands for the duration of the commercial harvest and mostly eat what they catch.

"While the shed operators frown sometimes at all the mutton birds that we're eating, that's part of it," Mr Mansell said.

"We come out here to eat mutton birds, we love the taste of them."

Mr Mansell said most commercial harvesters were not involved just for the money.

"We're never going to be millionaires because of mutton birding," he said.

The harvesting takes place on a few of the Furneaux Islands and Trefoil Island off Cape Grim. ( Rose Grant )

"Most people are lucky if they can break even."

Mr Mansell has spent the past week ferrying food, water and equipment to Babel island and supervising repairs to the sheds in preparation for the commercial harvest.

Two of the huge plastic tanks that hold enough fresh water for the harvest have sprung leaks, guttering has fallen down and wayward mutton birds have smashed windows.

"There's a lot of romance attached to mutton birding with Aboriginal people but when it comes to the commercial harvesting, when you've only got a set period to harvest the birds and process them and get them off to market, the romance tends to go out of it and it's damn hard work," Mr Mansell said.

Harvesting for thousands of years to come

Scalding is key to effective plucking. ( Rose Grant )

This year the group includes four generations of one family, as well as several young men aged between 12 and 25.

"It does suggest there's a healthy future, so long as the next generations keep doing what we're doing," Mr Mansell said.

From the end of March, recreational mutton birders are allowed to harvest birds on the islands, a practice that has attracted criticism from some environmental and animal welfare groups.

Mr Mansell said "amateur" mutton birding was distinct from the commercial harvest that is almost exclusively carried out by Aboriginal people.

He said although there was no quota for the commercial harvest, Aboriginal mutton birders carefully assess how many birds to take and have called off harvests in years when mutton bird numbers are low.

"We monitor it and we keep an eye on it, and make sure that the mutton birding is sustainable for the next 10,000 years."