Much to my shame, about 20 years or so ago, I am afraid I was responsible for wiping out a colony.
My recollection is that I had come over from RAFG to fly a comp from, I think, Bicester. Didn't do particularly well in the comp and it duly became time to go home. I had towed my caravan there and my ground crew had towed the Discus. Went to hook up the car only to find the gas bottle and general junk box perched on the towing triangle had become a behive
Now I'm an animal lover and did understand the importance of bees. So, I called variously; the RSPCA ("They are protected. Offence to interfere with them"), police and other organizations. No one was prepared to come and do that smoke stuff and rescue the poor buggers and I had a ferry to catch that evening.
So, put on beanie hat, flying suit and flying gloves, improvised a mask with mosquito net fro the van and hooked up the car and drove down to Dover.
On the ferry, I checked and there were still about 50 of the poor buggers hanging on. They were still there when I got back.
Still feel guilty about it.
s just above the tush or something, I'm talking about those serious monstrosities reaching around the arms and legs. Couldn't care less about fat ugly slobs but to tattoo a big-boob cute-assed boner that way should be a bloody crime.
