Paul Arden | Saturday, 11 February 2023
I can only assume that the Bee Dance, upon finding my socks, is the most captivating and exhilarating dance of all. “You won’t believe it fellas” – while wiggling its bum and shaking its 6 legs around in a frenzy - “I’ve struck GOLD!!!” – bee head banging – “Quick go to the boat that looks like a Battleship; just avoid the sleeping Yeti” – midair cartwheels. And before you know it, a hundred bees are in my boat going nuts.
Two mornings in a row now, ten kilometres apart.
The main attraction is the in-boat bike trainer. This is where it all happens. Bees love everything about indoor bike trainers; they love the handlebars; they love the bike gloves; they love the Ironman towel on the floor. But most of all they love the bike shoes. Bike shoes to a honey bee is like chocolate ice cream to a six year old. Belum Honey anyone?
“The honey this year has an interesting bouquet to it.”
“That will be Paul’s socks.”
A couple of years ago I met a lady who was studying bees in the Belum-Temenggor rainforest. I said I was an expert. She said she found them interesting. I agreed.
Some interesting facts about bees… A honey bee can fly for up to six miles for socks. A populous colony may contain 40,000 to 60,000 bees. Fermented honey – Mead – is the most ancient fermented beverage. The term “honeymoon” originated with the Norse practice of consuming large quantities of Mead during the first month of a marriage. And you can fairly give a bee a good whack with a frying pan.
That final fact I find the most useful. The bee will spin off and crash land onto the water, pause to make sure it is fine (which it always is of course, because bees are invincible), buzz around for a bit, take off and fly away to find reinforcements.
The first time I learned about jungle bees, was during the first few months of lockdown, while hiding out down the lake and before the police found me. I knew I had a problem because I was trapped in one secluded bay and the bees would visit every morning and every evening. When they did, I moved the boat and they would depart – phew – only to return again when they realised I hadn’t left the bay and had only moved the boat a little.
A Google search gave me a natural bee repellant: crushed garlic. Which was great because I had garlic. So I crushed it. And put it in little saucers strategically placed all around the boat. The Bees loved this. I swear it attracted more of them. That’s when I discovered the frying pan. I didn’t find that on Google; that’s one of my own.
Now, it’s a little bit like a backhand stopless cast. Lead with the back of the hand and swipe through the bee. When you get it right you will hear a small thudding sound. I call this “ringing the bell”.
If you have lot of bees in the boat, which is not at all uncommon, then you can use two frying pans. But in my experience anything over about 20 bees is already too late and you should move the boat. Because there are another 40-60,000 on their way.
Todays POD - emergency evacuation training.
I’m going fishing.
Cheers, Paul