GBKA Registered 
Charity Number : 1014600
|
GBKA Registered
|
Double
check on food. This is a dangerous time for colonies. If it is cold and frosty
give candy. If it is warmer and they are flying give syrup in a contact feeder. Make
sure you have everything ready for the first spring inspection. This can be done
if it is warm enough to stand next to the hive in a shirt. (!!!!) Re Spring Inspection You should all be aware that there are now FIVE bee diseases that are
notifiable. These are: 1 & 2) The two brood diseases (AFB & EFB)
3) Varroa 4)Aethina tumida, the Small
Hive beetle or SHB 5)Tropilaelaps clareae a small
mite with a lifestyle similar to
varroa (4 & 5 have not yet been found in UK) MEMBERS
?? Some members have not yet paid their subscription for this year. If
you want to remain a member please could you fill in your membership form and
send it to Allison straight away. (You
know If you do not wish to rejoin I’m sorry to bother you but this will be the last piece of correspondence from us.
Dick
Sadler apologizes for the lack of any Ramblings this month. He has been rambling
through the interiors of some NHS establishments and has not been inspired to
think about bees nor to put pen to paper. I sincerely hope he will soon be back
at the writing board but meanwhile he reminded me about a story I was sent last
year when doing the swarm series. It is rather long so I will need to produce it
in installments.
Terror
in the Cockpit By
Geoffrey A.H.Watts As
the door of the air-conditioned company car opened, the searing heat of the
African sun flooded the interior. I said goodbye to the driver and, with my
companion, walked the short distance across the baking concrete of Mombasa
Airport to the 4-seater Cessna aircraft I had hired for the outward journey to
Dar-es-Salaam. As
Managing Director of a UK owned transport business in Africa, I was based in
Nairobi. Every other month I flew to Mombasa for the regional board meeting,
then on to Dar-es-Salaam for a similar one. I had been a keen pilot for some
years and in order to take colleagues as passengers I had recently obtained my
commercial licence. It gave me a great deal of personal satisfaction to pilot
myself around, not to mention freedom from the ties of airline schedules. Flying
in Africa was a joy. Skies largely free of air traffic, consistently good
weather and more often than not crystal clear visibility all added to the
sensual pleasure I experienced when flying. As
usual I had left Nairobi’s Wilson Field early in the morning and arrived at
Mombasa about 10.00 hrs. After the
invigorating sparkle of Kenya’s highland air, Mombasa’s coastal humidity
seemed unacceptably heavy. Our board meeting conducted in the cool comfort of a
well ventilated room, windows thrown open to the light breezes of
the Indian Ocean, was routine. John Dean and I left for the airport again
to fly on to Dar-es-Salaam for the afternoon Board Meeting. It
was a flight of about 90 min to Dar and as we performed the external flight
checks we both looked forward to getting aloft into a cooler temperature. I
lifted the port aileron of the Cessna 182 to check free movement and as I did so
absently noticed a small cluster of bees hovering around the end of the pitot
tube which protruded from the leading edge of the wing. Waving my arms to shoo
them away, I completed the checks and climbed into the aircraft. We
were soon airborne. I advised Mombasa tower of my destination, they
acknowledged, wished me a pleasant journey and handed me over to Nairobi control
with whom I exchanged normal courtesies. Although it was 400 miles away the
facilities at the capital’s airport were better in those days of HF
communication. It was a flight I had done many times before and I knew the route
well. The wonderful coastline fell away under my starboard wing as I swung out
of the take-off climb and on to my direct course for Dar-es-Salaam. Below I
could see the crystal blue ocean. A thin line of surf etching white coral-sand
beaches that were fringed on the landward side with the lush growth of palms,
oleanders and the remarkable baobab trees. I still got the same thrill of
pleasure from that view that I had the first time I had flown over it several
years earlier. I
was wearing regulation tropical kit. Crisply pressed white shorts, white
three-quarter length socks, a cool shirt; even so I welcomed the decrease in
temperature as we climbed to our cruising height of 6000 ft. After 20min or so I
tapped John on the arm and drew his attention to a couple of bees on the
instrument panel. They were small African bees. Rolling up one of my aviation
charts he delivered a couple of hefty swipes at the insects and killed them.
Then he leaned back to watch the unfolding idyllic scenery from the right hand
window. At
6000ft the air was as smooth as silk and I was relaxed, half thinking of the
coming board meeting, automatically checking the compass heading, artificial
horizon and turn and bank instruments in turn, glancing every now and then out
of my side window to see a familiar landmark slide away under us. At one point,
as I reached down between the two front seats to adjust the trim of the
aircraft, I noticed another bee and pointed it out to John who nodded absently.
The bee must have flown into the back of the aircraft for it soon disappeared. I
suppose it must have been half an hour later that I noticed out of the corner of
my eye a movement down by the trim wheel. I glanced down and was surprised to
see a thin dark stream of bees emanating from the gaps around the wheel. They
headed for the dashboard and started to settle there. John must have noticed
them at the same moment. We did not, immediately, experience any fear. Surprise
was the first reaction I think. Within 20sec however we became very alarmed as
more and more bees flew into the cockpit. Soon there was a never ending stream
oozing from between the seats and the first trickle had multiplied into several
dozen. About
40miles further back we had flown over Tanga’s small commercial airfield and
without further hesitation I swung into a 180° turn and headed back towards it:
willing the bees to stay off the throttle lever. For a wild moment I remembered
that you were supposed to talk to bees. Weren’t you? I had heard it somewhere.
But that was English bees. These were not placid English bees, nurtured on
cowslip in an English meadow. These were African bees. Killer bees some people
called them, and I was only too aware that if they became angry both John sand I
could be killed by multiple stings from these tiny creatures whose venom was
fatally strong. to be contd. Contd: Terror
in the Cockpit By
Geoffrey A.H.Watts ‘Kali’
the Africans said of them in Swahili. In Livingstone’s diaries he recorded
that he expected to lose about a dozen porters on each safari from the stings of
these unlovable little creatures. Even
as I reached for my microphone the black crawling mass on the dashboard had
started to spread across the bottom of the windscreen and was probably numbering
100’s rather than dozens. Fortunately I raised Nairobi immediately. In those
days one made radio contact only every half hour and I was relieved to hear the
slow calm answer: ‘Receiving
you Kilo Oscar Delta.’ I
cut in with my emergency message, not a Mayday as I was already in voice contact
but using the code that would alert them to the seriousness of my plight. ‘Pan-Pan-Pan.
I have a swarm of bees in my cockpit. I am approximately 40 miles beyond Tanga
airfield. I am returning immediately and request emergency landing facilities.
Repeat Pan-Pan-Pan…..’ From
his crisp affirmative response I could see that the dangerous situation in which
I found myself was not lost on the controller. We both knew I could not reach
Tanga in under 15 mins. Meanwhile
the bees continued to exit from the tiny gap between the passenger and pilot’s
seat and mass on the dashboard; there were now so many that they had lapped over
onto the windscreen. I saw the rising panic in John’s face as he sat
helplessly watching the ever-growing swarm in front of us. The single thought in
my mind was that we must at all costs try to avoid making the bees angry. At
present they were merely settling, and probably a dozen or so were flying lazily
around the cockpit. I said as much to John, forcing myself to speak calmly
despite my own fear. In that moment I thought we were dead men. Fifteen minutes
assumed the proportions of infinity as I gingerly leaned forward to open the
throttle, easing the nose of the plane down to achieve maximum speed. Before
long even the windscreen was covered in a crawling mass of small furry bodies
and my only forward vision was in the gaps left as they swirled and eddied in
concert. Now some had begun to settle on the throttle and one or two were around
the flap lever. If they covered either of these I would have difficulty landing
the aircraft safely. Two or three had now settled on my knees and arms and I
tried to ignore them. I envied John’s decision to wear slacks that day as one
insect began to explore the hem of my shorts. I thought that if I ignored them
they might fly off and join the others –0 treat them like exploratory wasps at
a picnic. But it was not easy, revulsion as well as fear engulfed me and I had
to work at concentrating on flying the aircraft. I
could hear Nairobi alerting nearby air traffic, advising them to keep clear to
allow me to land without entering the pattern. Unfortunately my approach
direction meant that I would have to land downwind but that seemed the least of
my problems. I was going straight in regardless. I
heard John stifle a gasp and turned towards him. There were three bees on his
forehead and one in his hair. ‘I’ve been stung’ he said quietly, ‘Hang
on’ I said more calmly than I felt, ‘Almost there now’. Even as I said it
I felt a sharp sting on my right hand. Somehow I resisted the impulse to shake
my hand. It
seemed an age before I spotted Tanga on the horizon. I tried blowing at the bees
hovering around the flaps lever in an attempt to move them without upsetting
them. I
aimed the plane straight at the centre of the runway as I began my powered
descent, gingerly releasing the throttlescrew and easing the lever to reduce
revs. I was sweating with relief but as I took my hand off the throttle lever a
small group of bees landed on the black plastic handle. Thereafter I could
hardly see the throttle. I had almost got the flaps down when another battalion
descended towards my hand and
as I hastily withdrew it settled instead on the lever. By now there were bees in
my hair, on my arms and legs. It was a horror movie come to life. At
100mph, not helped by a 20mph tail wind, the landing was far faster than I would
normally have found acceptable but I put the Cessna down reasonably smoothly,
holding the wheel forward to press the nose-wheel hard against the runway while
speed reduced to a controllable state. We were still taxying far too fast for
comfort when I slewed off the runway on to a taxi
track and applied the brakes hard. John and I already had our hands on
the door handles, seat belts off. The fire engine had been standing by further
back along the runway expecting a slower landing but was now rushing after us in
a wild career across the grass bordering the runway. Even
as we hastily abandoned the Cessna and ran to safetythe bees swarmed from the
pilot’s door and started to settle below the wing where they hung in a long
pendulous dark mass. With the engine switched off I could hear the threatening,
muttering buzz. Having
established our safety the firemen made it clear that they were reluctant to
tackle the problem. After a long discussion it was decided to turn the hoses on
the bees and to my immense relief the swarm suddenly took to the air and
departed towards the forest, a tight black ball with a comet-like tail. We
headed for the airport buildings. We had been extremely lucky and the only
damage was a couple of stings each. When we left Tanga about an hour later we
went over the inside of the plane very carefully until we were both satisfied
that no bees remained. Even so we were alert and over-hyped in the air, watchful
for the odd insect that might haXve been lurking somewhere. Bees for Development was set up on 1st April 1993 composed of just two
people. It is ‘housed’ in Nicola’s house and is basically an information
provider for beekeepers throughout the world who have no other means of getting
to know what is going on in beekeeping elsewhere nor what legislation there may
be. Apart from the quarterly magazine which they produce, they answer
1000’s of queries from all over the world, but particularly from third world
countries who need their guidance. They are maintained by charitable donations,
so this is all done on a shoestring budget—any donations would be gratefully
received. 01600 716167 for details Nicola
Bradbear at Goytre Nicola’s approach to bees and beekeeping is unlike any of the other speakers we have, and although we must by now be used to it I still feel thoroughly chastened after listening to her. Bees are precious creatures that need to be looked after with their interests in mind. Beekeepers, in the countries that Nicola visits, are all lovely people who are poor (in materialistic terms) and struggling to make a living We were told about three projects. One in the Hindu Kush was set up to try to gather some statistics about the numbers of native bee colonies. She is concerned about Apis cerana which is a local bee adapted to the local beekeeping traditions. Unfortunately it is being replaced by A.mellifera, but because the locals can’t afford the equipment to keep A.mellifera properly it is not thriving. In India 90% of honey sold comes from wild A. dorsata and laboriosa colonies. As they are wild they are in serious threat of being over hunted to the point of extinction. But no one knows how severe this threat is. In Macedonia there is a thriving beekeeping tradition producing very good honey which they sell to Slovenia. Unfortunately when Slovenia joins the EU they will no longer be able to sell to them because of all the regulations. Nicola is trying to enable them to get their honey ‘certified’ by a laboratory. And in Trinidad there is an interesting project going comparing Commercial frame hives and Top Bar hives. Wonderful bees, no varroa and no africanisation, unlike Tobago which has everything. Bridget I expect you have all
read and digested the last BBKA newsletter. It sems to me that it is much more
readable than it used to be, but maybe that is because I am taking a greater
interest in some of the boring things. Did you take in the proposed new
regulations for labelling honey for sale? We are going to have to ‘indicate’
the country of origin. I can’t think that is a problem as most beekeepers are
proud to have Gwent/Monmouth/Welsh honey; in fact does anyone not put
something to indicate from where their honey comes? But we also will need to put
a best before date. How tiresome. Do you think you can put ‘This will last
forever but it will be nicer if you eat it sooner rather than later’. And that
of course is a matter of opinion. My bees have been
very busy on the warm sunny days with the chaenomeles, winter flowering
honeysuckle and rosemary. I hope there is a bit of nectar for them in there,
most early flowers are generally regarded as good for pollen, but do we really
want to encourage brood rearing with snow around?
Bridget
|
Whilst the domains gbka.co.uk & gbka .org .uk are owned by G Cole. The web pages under these domains are published for the Gwent Beekeepers association and its members , in order to publicise our association's news, aims, activities, and the art of beekeeping.
|
