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Later that afternoon I got a call from Keith. There was a large swarm in nearby
Mooroolbark, so we arranged to meet at 5.30pm, then be there until dusk waiting
for the last of the scout bees to return to the queen. I was to pack a little ladder
(the swarm was 7 foot up a tree), secateurs, smoker and fuel, a hive box (no
frames), a lid and a bottom board. Oh, and don’t forget your bee suit, says Keith
as an afterthought. Keith, that was the first thing on my list before I even started
to make it! Departure time was ASAP, so I ran around in a flap, rallying the troops
(the ones that wanted to come that is), packing my kit, and jumping into my bee
suit. The phone rang again just as we were leaving - the swarm, which had arrived
24 hours previously, had taken flight again. The scout bees had apparently been
successful in their search, had come back to inform the colony, and had then
headed off as a pack to wherever their new home was. Today’s swarm catch was
not going to happen, but Keith remains confident that within a week or two I
will be the proud owner and catcher of my own swarm.

Sure enough, Keith called me the
following Thursday morning, notifying me of a
swarm in North Ringwood, about 5km from my

house. The swarm had taken up residence in
the owner’s cubby house, so extraction of
the swarm would involve the dismantling of
some of the cubby. We agreed to meet at
6.00pm – just perfect, time for me to get

home from work, collect Grace from
school, drop her home, collect Jack from
volleyball practice, grab my gear and get
to the cubby. Sometimes, just
sometimes, the cards all fall into place! Jack
was keen to come along and take photos for me. He
positioned himself up the drive from the swarm, taking full

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