Getting “Kosi”
[in memoriam Kyle Berrisford, mead-maker extraordinaire, 1987 – August 2015]
A trip to South Africa often entails a search for the Big Five – elephant, rhino, lion, leopard, and cape buffalo. It was not these noble beasts I stalked on a recent visit to the country, but a far smaller prey: Apis mellifera scutellata – the African honey bee – who was to be our partner in an exciting new venture in the world of mead.
I joined Dr. Garth Cambray, my friend from Makana Meadery and producer of our iQhilika meads, in Durban, South Africa for an epic trek through the wild ecosystems of that country to source honey – liquid gold that would fuel our Methode Accidental mead project. Our goal was (and is) to capture slices of various ecological biotopes through the honey harvested from a specific forest that, along with rainwater, will spontaneously ferment via the indigenous yeasts & bacteria present from the hives. Wooden barrels from regional wine makers further enhance this novel approach, incorporating an even greater biodiversity that infuses its very soul into the liquid.
The term “Methode Accidental” was coined with a nod toward the French tradition of naming the method by which a wine is made (e.g., Methode Ancienne by which yeast came from the wine makers stomping around on grapes); however, wine makers think we’re crazy. The honey we use is replete with wax comb, pollen, and even propolis – anathema to the vintners’ visions, limited by their microbe-monocultural philosophies; barrels, too, are considered ‘unfit’ having gradually built a bacterial collection over many years of usage. We, on the other hand, love this biodiversity and find such uniqueness stimulating! Each batch has its own story.
Dr. Cambray, discussing why South Africa in particular is so special, puts it this way, “well if you look at it numerically, these biomes have more than 22,000 known species of flowering plants. There are few, if any, other places on Earth where you can experience this sort of roller coaster of biodiversity, and it’s all going to be heading your way in a collection of special barrels – the most biodiversity ever assembled … and every one is a never-to-be-repeated, special celebration.”
Garth & I drove 250 miles up along the coast of Kwazulu Natal, home of the Zulu nation formed by King Shaka in the 1800s, and stopped just before the Mozambique border at Kosi Bay, near Manguzi in Maputaland. Here is a sub-tropical ecosystem dominated by coastal forests, palms, and wild cashew nuts. The bees in this area actually cross into Mozambique (so we truly have access to two-country honey) as well as tap into the magic of the St. Lucia Wetland Park.
Five species of mangrove trees can be found here, and the local Tsonga people (who have made their home in the region for 1000 years) are famous for the traditional fish traps they construct; hippo, too, can be spotted.
It is typical for beekeepers in these regions to form loose cooperatives to pool their resources and share their labors. Our first obligation was to meet with the leaders of several of these associations, along with government representatives supervising their investments in small business development of the area. The reception was warm, but honey was not to be found here.
Undaunted, we met with an independent keeper – one who could not afford the fees required to join a cooperative – who recognized the opportunity this visitor from America provided. Garth & I were delighted by this ambitious woman who seized the opportunity to capitalize on the work her bees have done for her. Driving through the relatively bustling Manguzi, we soon turned off the road (at an anonymous intersection) and meandered up the hills past wandering chickens and the ubiquitous humble soccer field.
Mamkhulu Mkhonto works her hives alone, and at perhaps 70-something years of age this is no small accomplishment! Opening the lid of the hive, we were treated to a panoply of different colored honeys – gold, mahogany, amber, and even green – all representing the different flora harvested by our friends the “killer bees”.
Progressing through her hives, Mamkhulu (literally: grandmother) delivered a full 20L bucket to us – enough for a small barrel of Methode Accidentale. Her labors entitled her to a payment perhaps equivalent to her monthly government pension – a fortune for her, and a payment we were happy to make for such a beautiful honey. |
Grandmother Mkhonto was sincerely overjoyed at the opportunity to work with us – she realized that, yes, the promises of working with bees could truly be rewarding! |
It was humbling for us, though, to realize the benefit our visit had on Mamkhulu, and on the community as a whole. Our Methode Accidentale project has a very real effect on the beekeepers involved – consider the payment Mamkhulu received for a small bit of honey, most likely doubling her monthly pension from the government. These precious funds might enable her to buy school uniforms for her grandchildren; these uniforms would allow the children to attend a better school. A better school means a better education, and the chance to break out of the poverty so prevalent in the region. She then becomes a shining example of initiative, and can demonstrate the tangible rewards that come from her labors.
For us? We will soon enjoy a mead unique to the world, a literal taste of the Kosi Bay ecosystem in a glass.
Next: a stinging reception in the Transkei.
You can see the area of Mamkhulu’s hives at 26°57’50”S, 32°43’24”E.