Year of the Millipedes

Throughout my years on Bequia I have noticed that each season has heralded SOME form of nuisance, and this past year has not been an exception! I have dealt with my share of pests, such as grackles dive-bombing my freshly baked bread, feral stray cats scratching Pizzeria customers for food and huge coconut rats chewing through wire to access my store-room. As a result, I tend to look back and say, “oh yes, THAT was the year of the cats”, or “THAT was the year of the grackles”. This past year will, without a doubt, be referred to as “the year of the millipedes!”

Millipedes are quite harmless to humans, but after I had been bitten  by a few centipedes I began to jump with fright at the sight of anything creeping about on a bunch of legs! Mac laughed at me each time he saw my reaction but I couldn’t help it, centipede bites had made me more than a titch leery. It didn’t take long before I was able to differentiate between the two, they really are quite different in appearance, and I learned to accept the millipedes as a benign part of life on Bequia.

Millipedes are slightly flattened invertebrates and therefore not insects, but rather more closely related to lobsters and crayfish. They actually evolved from water to land habitats and need moisture to live, which explains their preference for dark and damp places. They resemble brown worms with a lot of feet, which they use to push themselves slowly forward in a wave-like motion. The word “Millipede” means “one thousand feet”, and although this is quite an exaggeration they DO have a lot of feet!  The word “Centipede” means “one hundred feet” and this too is an exaggeration, but those feet move a hell of a   lot faster than those of the millipede, that’s for sure!

This past year, most likely due to the amount of rainfall we’ve been experiencing, the millipedes are EVERYWHERE. To me they seem different from those I am used to – smaller, and with a reddish tinge that I never noticed until after the volcanic eruption in 2021. I have no way of knowing if volcanic ash has played a role in the size and colouring of the millipedes, it may simply be a strange coincidence. While relatively harmless the creatures are not pretty, and watching them crawl in large numbers up the white walls in my courtyard on a rainy day is like seeing something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

If the millipede feels threatened it defends itself by curling up into a tight ball, and I often flick them with my foot whenever they’re in my path. They immediately curl themselves, making it easier to kick them out of the way. However, I don’t always see them and HATE the crunching noise they make when I step directly on their hard bodies, not to mention the mess left on the floor afterwards. This happens a  lot on those pre-dawn baking mornings when I’m moving about the kitchen half asleep – crunch-crunch-crunch go the millipedes and it grosses me out. I then have to clean the floor before tackling the bread dough, an added chore I really do NOT appreciate.

Yes, this past year will definitely go down in the annals of time as “The Year of the Millipede!”