- Joined
- Jun 15, 2023
- Messages
- 122
- Reaction score
- 200
- Location
- South East Lincolnshire
- Hive Type
- National
- Number of Hives
- 1 occupied at present. Plenty unocupied and awaiting tenants.
Bees Living in My Garden. How it all started. (Part 1)
The year was around 1974/75. I had a busy Garage business. A new customer had arrived in a shiny Jaguar.
"I have a Landrover that needs some repairs." he had announced. That was not a problem. We regularly serviced and repaired a great many Landrovers, plus we had two of our own in the Recovery Fleet.
"I must have it back that evening!" our new customer had insisted. That could be a problem, I explained. New parts will probably be required and if they were not held at the local Main Dealer, even a Red Star Express rail delivery from London to our local station (do you remember that?) would mean they may not arrive until late afternoon - and possibly too late to complete the job that day.
"I MUST have the Landrover back at the end of the day!" our new customer insisted. "Could you partly dismantle to see what has to be replaced, get the parts and fit them another day?" I agreed that we could do that, but it would make the job more expensive since we would be carrying out some of the work twice.
Our customer quickly dismissed that obstacle with an "Of course! I can accept that".
I was beginning to wonder why it was so important for our customer to have his Landrover back at his home each evening.
On the due day the maroon, series II Landrover arrived at the Garage.
"You might find the odd bee wandering around inside it." our customer admitted. "Oh, and its a bit sticky!" he had added rather apologetically. "You see, I keep bees! That’s why I must have it back in the evening – so I can attend to them."
I was a somewhat surprised. "How do you see inside the hives at night?" I queried with interest. Our customer explained that he had to transport his hives at night to the fields and orchards of his clients for pollination. He would be out from dusk until the early hours of the following morning, moving hives of bees from one site to another and also taking the honey they had collected.
The repairs were satisfactorily completed. Our new customer was happy and the sticky maroon Landrover became a regular customer.
Some months later, after quick service on the sticky Landrover, I delivered it to our customer’s house.
"How are your bees?" I enquired, making friendly conversation.
"They are very well, thank you." Our customer replied with a grin.
"Are they a hobby?" I then asked.
"They used to be." he said a little ruefully. "I used to be a Bank Manager before I retired. Bee-keeping was just a very relaxing weekend hobby for me."
"So its no longer a hobby?" I queried, slightly puzzled.
My customer shook his head and led me over to a detached double garage adjacent to his house. He opened one of the large doors. The garage was completely full of boxes stacked almost to ceiling height.
"Honey!" commented my customer laconically. He could see that I was astonished.
"I now earn far more money from the bees than I ever earned as a Bank Manager". He said a little regretfully. I was even more astonished.
"My clients pay me to take my bees to their farms and orchards to pollinate their crops.” he explained. “While the bees do the pollinating there, they also collect nectar to make honey which I then then sell"
We chatted a little more about bees, and the snippets of information I learned there remained stored in my head.
Perhaps it was at that time that the seeds were sown!
It was some several years later, in the 1980’s and after I had sold the Garage business, the wife and I visited a popular 'Country Show' one weekend. As we wandered past the many exhibits there was a large marquee occupied by the county Bee-keeper's Association. I'd still not forgotten the 'sticky maroon Landrover' that we looked after for several years at the Garage. We gazed curiously at the various 'bee related' items on display and for sale. At one end of the marquee there was a sign stating "Observation Hive" and various posters giving a brief explanation of life inside a beehive.
I was intrigued and so was my Good Lady. As soon as there was room there, we moved over to look through the transparent hive walls at the activity going on inside. I was amazed. It was the first time I had seen inside a beehive and this one was also occupied. At first sight it seemed chaotic with bees seemingly milling about aimlessly..
An arm passed between us and pointed into the hive. "Now you look there, and them's the workers who've just come in with nectar and pollen" said a soft voice with a 'country' accent emanating from behind us. We turned to see a slightly built man, certainly the wrong side of seventy years old. He had a flat cap that was doing its best to cover some short untidy white hair (and not succeeding very well) and a moustache that seemed to have a mind of its own; probably because it had clearly been subjected to far more nicotine smoke that it deserved.
Our guide continued explaining what could be seen happening inside this hive. Very quickly, what had at first seemed random chaos began to make sense to me. I was intrigued and began asking more questions. Eventually I began asking what was involved with keeping bees and what were the necessary requirements and obligations.
"Are you local?" asked our guide.
I shook my head and told him the village we lived in some fifteen or so miles away. Our guide just nodded. "That’s where I live, too." he said nonchalantly. "Give it some thought. If you decide to start keeping bees, give me a call and I'll put you right." He took a short grubby stub of a pencil from his pocket, grabbed a flyer from a nearby Honey Stall and wrote "Albert Lewis", his address and telephone number. We chatted a little longer before leaving.
My Good Lady had picked up a 'Bee-keeping Equipment' mail order catalogue on our way out of the bee marquee. On the following Monday I ordered a "Bee-keeping Starter Kit". A veil, a smoker, a hive tool and some gloves arrived later in the week.
On the following Friday evening I perused the 'Small Ads' in the local weekly newspaper delivered earlier that day. Suddenly my attention was riveted. "4 WBC Beehives with bees, Good strong stock. Ill health forces sale." was the text. I showed the advertisement to The Lady of The House. She simply said "Phone now before someone else gets them."
I telephoned the number given. Three hives had already been sold and there was just one hive left. Suddenly I was making arrangements to drive some thirty miles that same evening, into the wilds of southern Suffolk to collect a hive full of bees "after nine thirty!" Luckily, the elderly vendor had enlisted a neighbour to help lift the securely roped hive into our vehicle, fortuitously a Safari Landrover with plenty of room. The outer lifts were stacked separately to make transport easier.
Later that night, illuminated by the Landrover reversing lights we carefully placed our new hive in its chosen location. There was one brood box and one shallow.
The next morning, following the instructions from the vendor, I was up very early to go and pull the foam sponge from the entrance of our 'new' WBC Hive and put the ‘outers’ on. We had left the hive overnight with just the roof balanced on top of the crown board. We both stood watching the bees begin to exit the hive and then start flying around, probably muttering "where the hell are we?" to each other. By the time we ventured out again after breakfast, the bees were already in full flight. Obviously by now they had worked out ‘where the hell they were' and were now busy and working hard.
I waited until mid morning before telephoning Albert Lewis. "'E's over the farm with a swarm." said a female voice that I guessed belonged to Albert's wife. "Goo and see 'im thar." she added. I drove up to the farm that was about a hundred yards from Albert's house (if you want that distance in centigrade, call it a hundred metres - but it will then be a little further away!). There was Albert with a swarm of bees that had landed on the side of a farm building. He had a large cardboard box and seemed to be putting handfuls of bees into the box. I remained watching from a very respectable distance.
After a short time Albert came over and recognised me from the previous weekend. "I take it you've decided to become a Bee-keeper?" he queried with a smile.
I nodded and said yes.
Albert nodded towards the myriads of bees milling around the cardboard box. "You can have that one." he said kindly. "We just need to quickly find you a hive."
I explained rather apologetically that I'd just bought a hive complete with bees the night before and told him exactly what I'd acquired so far. He listened intently and nodded. "Right! we'll just leave them alone to settle down. We can have a look inside next weekend."
That sounded sensible advice. Albert then asked if I still wanted the swarm he had just collected. I said I would love to have them but I only had one hive. "Give me your 'phone number" said Albert "I have a few contacts who may be able to help."
Malcolm B.
To be continued. (there is a limit to the number of characters in a posting.)
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