Apparently Mother Nature is having some issues. The Washington D.C. region has gone from frigid nights to almost-spring back to frigid nights. Today it’s predicted to be in the 80s.
The flip-flopping of weather patterns is murder on people’s nerves and immune systems.
Unfortunately, our honeybees suffer the same maddening frustrations with the weather as we do. By this point, most clusters in the area have broken and foraging is happening in earnest. The sudden appearance of a cold snap causes not only confusion, but can be deadly to a hive. The bees, which had months to prepare for this past winter, are caught off guard and may not re-cluster in time to stave off the freezing temperatures.
Many keepers lose a hive during these periods and there is little we can do to prevent it. No amount of feeding or nurturing can prepare the bees for a cold snap and the best we can hope for is that they can figure things out in time.
But bees are hardy little insects and have survived worse catastrophes. They live in rough climates from the chilly woods of the arctic to hot and humid latitudes near the equator. There are no keepers in the wild, so they have to find for themselves when it comes to pollen, nectar, and dealing with funky weather patterns.
Ultimately, all we can do is our best to help the bees, but recognize that sometimes elements are outside our control. Maybe it's a wild cold snap or maybe it's a disease that we cannot prevent. No matter what, as long as we work hard to ensure the bees are healthy and happy, everything else is up to chance.
Showing posts with label honeybees. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honeybees. Show all posts
Monday, April 11, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Barren Weeks
The period between the end of winter and the beginning of spring is exceptionally hard on the bees. As temperatures warm during the day, the cluster breaks and the bees begin taking cleansing flights as well as the first foraging flights of the season. Unfortunately, these are The Barren Weeks where pollen and nectar are in short supply. Many keepers have to make emergency feedings to keep the bees alive and sometimes, no matter what you do, it doesn’t work.
Few things are as disheartening as the loss of a hive. Last year, the bees died from a suspected combination of mites and starvation. Despite battling the varrora and ensuring the bees had more than enough honey for the winter, the girls did not survive. It’s maddening to open a hive and see the cluster frozen on a frame, heads buried in empty cells, while frames of fresh honey sit neglected only one super above them. For whatever reason, they refused to access the food and died inside an empty larder.
Yesterday, the Fiancée and I discovered that the “new” bees were not only still alive, but ready to rock and roll. Hundreds of girls spilled from a gap in the inner cover caused by several large chunks of bee candy and many foragers were returning with overflowing pollen buckets. We added some pollen patties to the top (to give them a protein boost), removed the mouse-guard at the entrance, relocated the remaining candy to the bottom of the hive (to encourage the girls to use the landing strip), and sealed the top of the hive tight. For a while, the bees struggled with the change in entry points, but eventually they figured out where the entry point was located.
Watching them reassess the situation was an education in the intelligence of these insects. Most of the bees were either survivors from the last crop going into the winter or freshly hatched over the chilly months. The cluster broke maybe two weeks ago, so the majority of foragers only knew about the “gap” entrance up top. When it went away, they began inspecting the rest of the hive for access and, once a few discovered the landing strip, started re-orienting themselves. They’d take off, immediately turn to face the hive, and arc back and forth. Then they’d land and repeat the process again from a farther distance. Within minutes, a large number of bees had not only figured things out, but communicated the knowledge with their sisters.
We left them to their re-education with a feeling of optimism. Having opted to let these bees deal with the varrora on their own and only feed them in an emergency, it was exhilarating to know they survived. Better yet, they seemed healthy and eager to get back to work.
Losses are a part of life when keeping bees, but those that make it through the difficult months come out stronger on the other side. As spring approaches, it’s my hope that these battle-tested girls pass their knowledge on to the next generation. But it’s nice to know that, for now, they beat the odds.
Few things are as disheartening as the loss of a hive. Last year, the bees died from a suspected combination of mites and starvation. Despite battling the varrora and ensuring the bees had more than enough honey for the winter, the girls did not survive. It’s maddening to open a hive and see the cluster frozen on a frame, heads buried in empty cells, while frames of fresh honey sit neglected only one super above them. For whatever reason, they refused to access the food and died inside an empty larder.
Yesterday, the Fiancée and I discovered that the “new” bees were not only still alive, but ready to rock and roll. Hundreds of girls spilled from a gap in the inner cover caused by several large chunks of bee candy and many foragers were returning with overflowing pollen buckets. We added some pollen patties to the top (to give them a protein boost), removed the mouse-guard at the entrance, relocated the remaining candy to the bottom of the hive (to encourage the girls to use the landing strip), and sealed the top of the hive tight. For a while, the bees struggled with the change in entry points, but eventually they figured out where the entry point was located.
Watching them reassess the situation was an education in the intelligence of these insects. Most of the bees were either survivors from the last crop going into the winter or freshly hatched over the chilly months. The cluster broke maybe two weeks ago, so the majority of foragers only knew about the “gap” entrance up top. When it went away, they began inspecting the rest of the hive for access and, once a few discovered the landing strip, started re-orienting themselves. They’d take off, immediately turn to face the hive, and arc back and forth. Then they’d land and repeat the process again from a farther distance. Within minutes, a large number of bees had not only figured things out, but communicated the knowledge with their sisters.
We left them to their re-education with a feeling of optimism. Having opted to let these bees deal with the varrora on their own and only feed them in an emergency, it was exhilarating to know they survived. Better yet, they seemed healthy and eager to get back to work.
Losses are a part of life when keeping bees, but those that make it through the difficult months come out stronger on the other side. As spring approaches, it’s my hope that these battle-tested girls pass their knowledge on to the next generation. But it’s nice to know that, for now, they beat the odds.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The War Between Fear and Common Sense
Phobias, by their nature, are stupid. They are effectively emotion overriding common sense. Compared to the number of automobile accidents in a given year, airplanes have a much higher safety record, yet people are still terrified to fly. Others cannot stand heights, even if there are numerous precautions that prevent you from going over the side of the Empire State Building.
No matter how much you show yourself or others the numbers, be they statistics or simple facts, a phobia will almost always win the fight.
But sometimes you can learn to live with and eventually overcome them.
My first recollection of bees wasn't a positive one. According to my mother, a neighborhood pal convinced me that bee stings would kill me. Being 3 or 4 at the time, her words were the Gospel. Never mind the fact that I wasn't allergic to stings, the seed was planted.
Soon after my friend altered my perception I stepped on a bee in my front yard. My reaction was nothing short of horrified.
Thus began my fear of bees.
The terror of stings continued over the course of my life. There was the time when I was ten and a friend and I were walking in the woods of my family home. We disturbed a ground-bees nest and attacked immediately. We were stung several times and raced to the safety of the indoors. While standing in the kitchen, sobbing and shaking and being consoled by my mother, I noticed a ground bee (aka: yellow jacket) circling my feet. With a scream, I ran upstairs and barricaded myself in my room to include shoving a towel in the crack under to door to prevent the bee from following me. I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, stricken with fear.
There are other stories. Our Husky getting into a ground bees nest while walking the property that became the future family homestead. Disturbing a nest while inspecting a tree house at a home my parents were thinking of buying inAlaska
As I grew older, my outward reaction decreased, but the internal reaction remained the same: uncontrollable fear. A fear based on a childhood conversation long lost in the file-cabinets of my mind, but remembered on a sub-conscious, instinctive level. Common sense dictated that stings, while painful, were not fatal, yet there was no convincing my conscious mind of that fact.
Why then, was there any desire to get into beekeeping? I wish it was based on an initial desire to overcome my fear, but the reality is far less impressive: I was wooed by the science of honeybees. That fascination grew into education and the more I learned, less intimidating they became.
But educating myself did not completely cure my fear and even now, after years of keeping bees, I occasionally feel the rise of panic when things get busy in the hive. That being said, the fact that the hive and it's 60,000 some-odd inhabitants does not terrify me anymore is a personal milestone. Having spent time with honeybees up close, I now understand their nature more than I did when I was 4 and that, more than anything, is reason enough not to fear their sting.
One caveat: as of this posting, I've yet to be stung by my girls. I am still fearful of the day when, not if, it happens, but experience has helped me overcome the irrational fears and follow a road I would never have taken years ago.
Lessons learned from experience:
Honeybees, unlike hornets, wasps, and yellow jackets, are not aggressive. Unless you threaten the hive or attempt to squash one in your hand, they won't normally attack. There may be times when they get extra defensive (i.e. late summer as the nectar flow winds to a close, evening when more bees are in the hive, rainy days, etc), but by and large, the hive usually has more important things on its mind. Mine barely notices me when I work it.
Honeybees are curious. Pop the top on a hive and you'll have hundreds of girls come out to see what's going on. If it's chilly, they'll take a break on your suit to warm up. They like to investigate, will bump your veil to say "hello" and will wiggle into cuffs, under shirts, or up your sleeves if able. Slow movements and a keen eye for where they are keeps everyone happy.
Stings kill the bee, therefore it is a last-ditch option. Given a choice, their natural reaction in "the wild" (aka more than 20 or so feet from the hive) is to run. Foragers are usually more concerned with getting the nectar or pollen they've harvested back to the hive than they are trying to sting you.
In the end, it's hard to explain a fear to yourself. Rational thought and common sense usually take a back seat to inexplicable emotions. But with a little education and a willingness to take a risk, you may open the door to a fascinating new hobby.
No matter how much you show yourself or others the numbers, be they statistics or simple facts, a phobia will almost always win the fight.
But sometimes you can learn to live with and eventually overcome them.
My first recollection of bees wasn't a positive one. According to my mother, a neighborhood pal convinced me that bee stings would kill me. Being 3 or 4 at the time, her words were the Gospel. Never mind the fact that I wasn't allergic to stings, the seed was planted.
Soon after my friend altered my perception I stepped on a bee in my front yard. My reaction was nothing short of horrified.
Thus began my fear of bees.
The terror of stings continued over the course of my life. There was the time when I was ten and a friend and I were walking in the woods of my family home. We disturbed a ground-bees nest and attacked immediately. We were stung several times and raced to the safety of the indoors. While standing in the kitchen, sobbing and shaking and being consoled by my mother, I noticed a ground bee (aka: yellow jacket) circling my feet. With a scream, I ran upstairs and barricaded myself in my room to include shoving a towel in the crack under to door to prevent the bee from following me. I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, stricken with fear.
There are other stories. Our Husky getting into a ground bees nest while walking the property that became the future family homestead. Disturbing a nest while inspecting a tree house at a home my parents were thinking of buying in
As I grew older, my outward reaction decreased, but the internal reaction remained the same: uncontrollable fear. A fear based on a childhood conversation long lost in the file-cabinets of my mind, but remembered on a sub-conscious, instinctive level. Common sense dictated that stings, while painful, were not fatal, yet there was no convincing my conscious mind of that fact.
Why then, was there any desire to get into beekeeping? I wish it was based on an initial desire to overcome my fear, but the reality is far less impressive: I was wooed by the science of honeybees. That fascination grew into education and the more I learned, less intimidating they became.
But educating myself did not completely cure my fear and even now, after years of keeping bees, I occasionally feel the rise of panic when things get busy in the hive. That being said, the fact that the hive and it's 60,000 some-odd inhabitants does not terrify me anymore is a personal milestone. Having spent time with honeybees up close, I now understand their nature more than I did when I was 4 and that, more than anything, is reason enough not to fear their sting.
One caveat: as of this posting, I've yet to be stung by my girls. I am still fearful of the day when, not if, it happens, but experience has helped me overcome the irrational fears and follow a road I would never have taken years ago.
Lessons learned from experience:
Honeybees, unlike hornets, wasps, and yellow jackets, are not aggressive. Unless you threaten the hive or attempt to squash one in your hand, they won't normally attack. There may be times when they get extra defensive (i.e. late summer as the nectar flow winds to a close, evening when more bees are in the hive, rainy days, etc), but by and large, the hive usually has more important things on its mind. Mine barely notices me when I work it.
Honeybees are curious. Pop the top on a hive and you'll have hundreds of girls come out to see what's going on. If it's chilly, they'll take a break on your suit to warm up. They like to investigate, will bump your veil to say "hello" and will wiggle into cuffs, under shirts, or up your sleeves if able. Slow movements and a keen eye for where they are keeps everyone happy.
Stings kill the bee, therefore it is a last-ditch option. Given a choice, their natural reaction in "the wild" (aka more than 20 or so feet from the hive) is to run. Foragers are usually more concerned with getting the nectar or pollen they've harvested back to the hive than they are trying to sting you.
In the end, it's hard to explain a fear to yourself. Rational thought and common sense usually take a back seat to inexplicable emotions. But with a little education and a willingness to take a risk, you may open the door to a fascinating new hobby.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The Population Boom
Since Spring is just around the corner, now is the time to prepare for the inevitable population explosion that your hive will experience once temperatures remain above 50 degrees. Depending on your breed of bee, the speed of this boom will vary. Carniolans (which I keep), maintain a small cluster but explode in a short period of time while Italians, who have a larger winter cluster, are slower by comparison. No matter which ones you keep, your girls will run out of room unless you're ready. The key to providing them the space they need is your woodenware.
Several lessons learned from past seasons and the population boom are:
1) Have a lot of spare supers and frames. If you think you need 7 supers this year, you'll actually need 10. Between the sudden build-up of bees, wear and tear on supers/frames, and your annual swap of foundation, you'll run out of gear quickly.
2) New foundation. It is generally recommended to swap out comb every two to three years. If you started a hive of brand new foundation last year, you may want to swap 30% of the comb out this season. That way you are always changing only 1/3 of the comb which is easier for you and the bees. An easy way to keep track of foundation is to write the year you install it on the topbar of the frame.
3) Repair/Repaint: 99% of supers and frames are made out of pine these days. It's a fast-growing wood which means it's light as well, but also not very durable. If you painted or stained the exterior of the super, you'll have more life out of it, however pine will never be as durable as oak or hickory. That being said, make sure to check your supers and frames for wear and tear. Pay special attention to the bottom board since it takes the worst beating from the elements. Replace, repair, or repaint whatever needs fixin'.
4) Chow: Spring will bring lots of new pollen for the girls and they'll spend the first few weeks restocking the larder. You can help them with some pollen patties placed on the inner cover. I try not to use too much since I'd rather they learn to deal with what's available, but every now and then it's okay to give them a little boost.
5) Swarms: At this point, the queen is back to laying eggs which means in a few weeks, you'll have a lot more girls inside the hive than you do now. Given another couple of weeks and the population will rapidly be on the rise. That being said, the bees will be loading spare cells with pollen, nectar, etc, and will run out of room quickly. Lack of space will likely drive them to swarm, so keeping ahead of them with supers is key. Make sure they have plenty of room (without adding too much) and check the bottom of the frames for swarm cells (queen cells which look like peanut shells). It's very difficult to convince the hive it doesn't need to swarm once they've made up their mind to do so, therefore staying ahead of the ballgame is key.
Despite the cold and snow, now is the time to make sure your girls have everything they need for the population boom they'll experience in the next two months. Proper planning will help minimize issues and keep them happy. And happy bees will make you a happy keeper.
Several lessons learned from past seasons and the population boom are:
1) Have a lot of spare supers and frames. If you think you need 7 supers this year, you'll actually need 10. Between the sudden build-up of bees, wear and tear on supers/frames, and your annual swap of foundation, you'll run out of gear quickly.
2) New foundation. It is generally recommended to swap out comb every two to three years. If you started a hive of brand new foundation last year, you may want to swap 30% of the comb out this season. That way you are always changing only 1/3 of the comb which is easier for you and the bees. An easy way to keep track of foundation is to write the year you install it on the topbar of the frame.
3) Repair/Repaint: 99% of supers and frames are made out of pine these days. It's a fast-growing wood which means it's light as well, but also not very durable. If you painted or stained the exterior of the super, you'll have more life out of it, however pine will never be as durable as oak or hickory. That being said, make sure to check your supers and frames for wear and tear. Pay special attention to the bottom board since it takes the worst beating from the elements. Replace, repair, or repaint whatever needs fixin'.
4) Chow: Spring will bring lots of new pollen for the girls and they'll spend the first few weeks restocking the larder. You can help them with some pollen patties placed on the inner cover. I try not to use too much since I'd rather they learn to deal with what's available, but every now and then it's okay to give them a little boost.
5) Swarms: At this point, the queen is back to laying eggs which means in a few weeks, you'll have a lot more girls inside the hive than you do now. Given another couple of weeks and the population will rapidly be on the rise. That being said, the bees will be loading spare cells with pollen, nectar, etc, and will run out of room quickly. Lack of space will likely drive them to swarm, so keeping ahead of them with supers is key. Make sure they have plenty of room (without adding too much) and check the bottom of the frames for swarm cells (queen cells which look like peanut shells). It's very difficult to convince the hive it doesn't need to swarm once they've made up their mind to do so, therefore staying ahead of the ballgame is key.
Despite the cold and snow, now is the time to make sure your girls have everything they need for the population boom they'll experience in the next two months. Proper planning will help minimize issues and keep them happy. And happy bees will make you a happy keeper.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Winter Wonderland
Beekeepers all over the country have had it rough the past few winters. Between the infestation of varorra mites, the mysterious Colony Collapse Disorder, to the growth of the small hive beetle (SHB), the cold months between fall and the first days of Spring can be troubling. Winter is a difficult time for both keeper and bees in no part because there is a lot of waiting. Waiting for snow to melt, waiting for temperatures to rise, waiting to check and see if a colony is still alive.
But that does not mean that as keepers we cannot give our girls a fighting chance. Below are some lessons learned from last season and this one. Lessons that, having failed to execute one or two, may mean the difference between my girls living and dying this season.
1) Fall feeding: It’s hard to think about next Fall when there is snow on the ground, but better to have a game plan in mind for the coming season. Both last year and this year the honeybees went into winter with more than 50 pounds of honey reserves which I felt was adequate to feed them during the winter months. Last year the bees apparently starved to death despite 20 pounds of honey still available. Perhaps this was due to the extreme cold or perhaps the long, long months when I was unable to reposition frames of honey up against the brood. This season, the bees went into winter with similar stores, but when the Fiancee and I checked on them in October, they’d eaten everything. Based on this experience, I fully intend to begin feeding heavy syrup (2:1 sugar to water) the moment the nectar flow has ceased (between late July and mid August). With any luck, this will allow the girls ample food to store for the winter.
2) New Mouse Guards: Currently I employ 8-gauge mesh over the entrance with small openings on the ends, however each year the bees seem to have issues figuring out how to enter from the sides. Additionally, the mesh is annoying to deal with, so it may be time to employ a better system. Most beekeeping companies carry decent mouse guards with holes in the front that allows you to open and close as the bees require (based on activity), however I have found these difficult to install and operate. I’ll conduct some more research, but may just build one that better fits the entrance.
3) Winter Feed: As stated in a previous post, once the weather gets cold, keepers should feed bee candy rather than syrup. Syrup can freeze which creates the equivalent of a large block of ice at the top of the hive (for hive-top feeders). This can chill/kill brood and bees in general. Additionally, as the syrup freezes, it may crack the feeder. When it begins to melt, the liquid will drip into the hive. I repeat this because 9 times out of 10, the bees will no longer go into the "pantry" for liquid food.
Instead, winter feeding should consist of bee candy. Below is the recipe from Wikibooks I use and the girls have responded favorably to it. This can be found on Wikibooks, so I cannot claim credit for it. The link to it is: (http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Beekeeping/Recipes_for_the_Bees)I
Ingredients:
2:1.5 sugar to water (i.e. 2 cups sugar to 1.5 cups of water)
2 Tbs Corn Syrup (do not use dark corn syrup. It has molasses which is harmful to the bees. I use Karo Light)
1/8 tsp Cream of Tartar
Dissolve the sugar in water and stir until water is clear (or sugar is completely dissolved). Continue heating the sugar water checking it regularly with a candy thermometer until it reaches 236-240 degrees (note: this boils much of the water out of the mixture). Transfer the syrup to a large mixing bowl and allow to cool. I recommend a porcelain bowl instead of a metal one simply because the metal will be scalding to the touch. Once the mixture cools enough to touch, whip with a whisk or fork until it begins to thicken. Pour immediately into molds or onto wax paper and allow to cool. (Caution: as you whip the mixture, it will harden quickly until it becomes solid. Just be careful that you don't have it solidify inside the bowl because it is a pain to get out.) Once cooled, you can freeze/store for a while. Personally, I place it into a Ziploc bag and crush it into tiny pieces. This makes it easy to "pour" into the hole of the inner cover when it's cold outside. Others like to squash it and then place the entire patty on the top of the brood frames. Whatever your bees prefer.
There are a lot of ways to feed the candy and below is a photo of how I fed mine. It was a relatively warm day (50 degrees), but I kept the inner cover on while breaking up the candy and putting it around the hole. The girls came up and immediately started snacking. I kicked a few small pieces into the hole just for good measure.
4) Patience: It’s hard to wait. You want to check on the girls and make sure they are okay. If temperatures are below 50, cracking the hive open is a bad idea. Instead, read up in magazines, books, and blogs or build/repair equipment for the coming season. Additionally, get your woodenware and nuc/package orders in early since suppliers often run out in the Spring. If you’re really desperate to check on the girls, you can press your ear against the brood super and listen for activity. A healthy hive should have a low hum to it.
Winter can be long for both the bees and the keeper. Get them ready early and then make sure you have all the supplies necessary to help them when the weather permits. With lot of effort and a luck, the following Spring you’ll have a healthy, strong hive.
But that does not mean that as keepers we cannot give our girls a fighting chance. Below are some lessons learned from last season and this one. Lessons that, having failed to execute one or two, may mean the difference between my girls living and dying this season.
1) Fall feeding: It’s hard to think about next Fall when there is snow on the ground, but better to have a game plan in mind for the coming season. Both last year and this year the honeybees went into winter with more than 50 pounds of honey reserves which I felt was adequate to feed them during the winter months. Last year the bees apparently starved to death despite 20 pounds of honey still available. Perhaps this was due to the extreme cold or perhaps the long, long months when I was unable to reposition frames of honey up against the brood. This season, the bees went into winter with similar stores, but when the Fiancee and I checked on them in October, they’d eaten everything. Based on this experience, I fully intend to begin feeding heavy syrup (2:1 sugar to water) the moment the nectar flow has ceased (between late July and mid August). With any luck, this will allow the girls ample food to store for the winter.
2) New Mouse Guards: Currently I employ 8-gauge mesh over the entrance with small openings on the ends, however each year the bees seem to have issues figuring out how to enter from the sides. Additionally, the mesh is annoying to deal with, so it may be time to employ a better system. Most beekeeping companies carry decent mouse guards with holes in the front that allows you to open and close as the bees require (based on activity), however I have found these difficult to install and operate. I’ll conduct some more research, but may just build one that better fits the entrance.
3) Winter Feed: As stated in a previous post, once the weather gets cold, keepers should feed bee candy rather than syrup. Syrup can freeze which creates the equivalent of a large block of ice at the top of the hive (for hive-top feeders). This can chill/kill brood and bees in general. Additionally, as the syrup freezes, it may crack the feeder. When it begins to melt, the liquid will drip into the hive. I repeat this because 9 times out of 10, the bees will no longer go into the "pantry" for liquid food.
Instead, winter feeding should consist of bee candy. Below is the recipe from Wikibooks I use and the girls have responded favorably to it. This can be found on Wikibooks, so I cannot claim credit for it. The link to it is: (http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Beekeeping/Recipes_for_the_Bees)I
Ingredients:
2:1.5 sugar to water (i.e. 2 cups sugar to 1.5 cups of water)
2 Tbs Corn Syrup (do not use dark corn syrup. It has molasses which is harmful to the bees. I use Karo Light)
1/8 tsp Cream of Tartar
Dissolve the sugar in water and stir until water is clear (or sugar is completely dissolved). Continue heating the sugar water checking it regularly with a candy thermometer until it reaches 236-240 degrees (note: this boils much of the water out of the mixture). Transfer the syrup to a large mixing bowl and allow to cool. I recommend a porcelain bowl instead of a metal one simply because the metal will be scalding to the touch. Once the mixture cools enough to touch, whip with a whisk or fork until it begins to thicken. Pour immediately into molds or onto wax paper and allow to cool. (Caution: as you whip the mixture, it will harden quickly until it becomes solid. Just be careful that you don't have it solidify inside the bowl because it is a pain to get out.) Once cooled, you can freeze/store for a while. Personally, I place it into a Ziploc bag and crush it into tiny pieces. This makes it easy to "pour" into the hole of the inner cover when it's cold outside. Others like to squash it and then place the entire patty on the top of the brood frames. Whatever your bees prefer.
There are a lot of ways to feed the candy and below is a photo of how I fed mine. It was a relatively warm day (50 degrees), but I kept the inner cover on while breaking up the candy and putting it around the hole. The girls came up and immediately started snacking. I kicked a few small pieces into the hole just for good measure.
4) Patience: It’s hard to wait. You want to check on the girls and make sure they are okay. If temperatures are below 50, cracking the hive open is a bad idea. Instead, read up in magazines, books, and blogs or build/repair equipment for the coming season. Additionally, get your woodenware and nuc/package orders in early since suppliers often run out in the Spring. If you’re really desperate to check on the girls, you can press your ear against the brood super and listen for activity. A healthy hive should have a low hum to it.
Winter can be long for both the bees and the keeper. Get them ready early and then make sure you have all the supplies necessary to help them when the weather permits. With lot of effort and a luck, the following Spring you’ll have a healthy, strong hive.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Setting Up Shop for the Winter
Fall is an interesting time for the girls. Between the vanishing nectar flow, cold nights, and the ejection of the drones (males) from the hive, honeybees have a lot on their plate. As a good keeper, it's our duty to be mindful of these issues and do what we can to ease the transition from summer workers to winter hibernators.
There are several important steps that a keeper should/must take before freezing temperatures become the norm at night.
1) Mouse Guards: Mice won’t kill your hive like mites and disease will, but they are a pain to deal with. They’ll not only wreak havoc on your frames, but can cause the girls more stress than needed. A mouse will build a tiny nest in the corner of a hive and survive for months thanks to the ample comb and residual heat from the bee-cluster. The simple installation of a mouse guard can therefore prevent a whole lot of trouble. Many beekeeping companies sell metal guards, but if you’re a cheap-skate (like me), something as simple as 8-guage wire trimmed to fit over the entrance will do the trick. Just make sure to leave enough space at the ends for the girls. Granted, it may take the foragers a little while to figure out the new way inside, but bees are smart.
2) Food: By this point, most pollinating flowers are dying. Northern states may already see snow in the mountains while southern states may have a few more weeks before frigid temperatures keep the girls indoors permanently. But until day temps drop well into the 50’s, expect your girls to forage and forage hard. Yesterday, the GF and I made a trip to check on the hive and lo and behold, there were still bees arriving at the entrance with pollen. Late-blooming plants will help, but the fact remains that unless your hive is already packed with its winter store of honey (approx 30-60 lbs depending), you really should feed them. And since we want fat bees for the winter months, a good 2:1 ratio sugar syrup is key. The important thing to keep in mind when feeding, however, is to avoid leaving any liquid in the hive when temps drop to freezing. Not only will the freezing and unfreezing crack your feeder (thereby drenching the girls in liquid if you use a hive-top feeder), but a frozen block of liquid acts like a giant refrigerator on top of the brood. That can negate the heat from the cluster and chill/kill brood. When temps get close to freezing, switch from liquid to candy/patties.
3) Ventilation: Just like in your own home, ventilation keeps air clean and bees healthy. Some keepers worry that allowing cold air to cycle through a hive will have the same effect of chilling brood as frozen liquid. The bees are smart and talented enough to allow as much or as little draft as needed provided there is one. I like to shift the top super forward enough to allow a small crack between the woodenware. Additionally, I keep the screened bottom board on and the mite-counting board off. The bees will position themselves accordingly and seal-up the cracks with propolis as they see fit. More important, they will appreciate the circulation of fresh air.
Once the hive is prepped for the winter, it’s best to let the girls go about their business. The occasional warm day will allow them to escape the hive for “cleansing flights” (aka bathroom breaks), but for the most part, the bees will remain in their cluster until spring. The winter can be hard for keepers as well since our instinct is to check on the girls, but it’s best to postpone inspections until a day when it’s close to 60. But that doesn’t mean you should remain idle. Winter is a great time for preparation and the best time to get yourself ready for the coming nectar flow. A couple important preparation steps are:
1) Wooden Ware: Order your gear. I say again, order your gear! Spring is the worst time to think about ordering parts for your hive, so get your orders in now. For those who do not order pre-assembled parts, winter is the perfect time to build a couple supers or staple foundation into frames. Many keepers wait until February to place orders and find themselves on a wait-list. That’s fine if you have a garage of spare parts, but not so good if you’ve already used up your last frame. The moment things get cramped, honeybees will swarm. Make sure you have enough wooden ware to keep ahead of them. I prefer at least one full hive extra since you can make splits or, worst case, serve as a foster keeper until your procrastinating friend/student/mentor’s gear arrives.
2) Read: Winter is also the perfect time to brush up on the latest news/trends and periodicals like Bee Culture and the American Bee Journal (among others) are excellent sources. Our understanding of these amazing creatures continues to expand and keeping your finger on the latest pulse is a good way to ensure that you are up to date. Then again, for as much as we know about honeybees, they are still a mystery to us. What better way to kill a few cold, wintery nights than brushing up on the history and latest discovery about out little friends?
3) Meet: If you’re not already a member of a local bee club, join one. If you are a member, attend a few meetings. Like reading, club meetings are not only a great way to brush up on the latest news, but also a place to pick the brains of people who have a lot of hands-on experience with the hobby.
4) Listen: If you enjoy the backyard science of beekeeping, then you’ll find yourself tempted to check on your charges. While opening the hive can be dangerous to the girls at colder temps, you can certainly listen to them. Go ahead and trod on out to the hive, press your ear to the side of the brood chamber, and listen to what’s going on. A health hive will have a soft, quiet hum to it. That’s the sound of the bees vibrating for warmth.
Anyway, those are just a few tips. The next few months will be challenging for the bees, but if you can get them, and yourself, ready for winter, you’ll find that next spring they’ll be healthier, stronger, and happier.
There are several important steps that a keeper should/must take before freezing temperatures become the norm at night.
1) Mouse Guards: Mice won’t kill your hive like mites and disease will, but they are a pain to deal with. They’ll not only wreak havoc on your frames, but can cause the girls more stress than needed. A mouse will build a tiny nest in the corner of a hive and survive for months thanks to the ample comb and residual heat from the bee-cluster. The simple installation of a mouse guard can therefore prevent a whole lot of trouble. Many beekeeping companies sell metal guards, but if you’re a cheap-skate (like me), something as simple as 8-guage wire trimmed to fit over the entrance will do the trick. Just make sure to leave enough space at the ends for the girls. Granted, it may take the foragers a little while to figure out the new way inside, but bees are smart.
2) Food: By this point, most pollinating flowers are dying. Northern states may already see snow in the mountains while southern states may have a few more weeks before frigid temperatures keep the girls indoors permanently. But until day temps drop well into the 50’s, expect your girls to forage and forage hard. Yesterday, the GF and I made a trip to check on the hive and lo and behold, there were still bees arriving at the entrance with pollen. Late-blooming plants will help, but the fact remains that unless your hive is already packed with its winter store of honey (approx 30-60 lbs depending), you really should feed them. And since we want fat bees for the winter months, a good 2:1 ratio sugar syrup is key. The important thing to keep in mind when feeding, however, is to avoid leaving any liquid in the hive when temps drop to freezing. Not only will the freezing and unfreezing crack your feeder (thereby drenching the girls in liquid if you use a hive-top feeder), but a frozen block of liquid acts like a giant refrigerator on top of the brood. That can negate the heat from the cluster and chill/kill brood. When temps get close to freezing, switch from liquid to candy/patties.
3) Ventilation: Just like in your own home, ventilation keeps air clean and bees healthy. Some keepers worry that allowing cold air to cycle through a hive will have the same effect of chilling brood as frozen liquid. The bees are smart and talented enough to allow as much or as little draft as needed provided there is one. I like to shift the top super forward enough to allow a small crack between the woodenware. Additionally, I keep the screened bottom board on and the mite-counting board off. The bees will position themselves accordingly and seal-up the cracks with propolis as they see fit. More important, they will appreciate the circulation of fresh air.
Once the hive is prepped for the winter, it’s best to let the girls go about their business. The occasional warm day will allow them to escape the hive for “cleansing flights” (aka bathroom breaks), but for the most part, the bees will remain in their cluster until spring. The winter can be hard for keepers as well since our instinct is to check on the girls, but it’s best to postpone inspections until a day when it’s close to 60. But that doesn’t mean you should remain idle. Winter is a great time for preparation and the best time to get yourself ready for the coming nectar flow. A couple important preparation steps are:
1) Wooden Ware: Order your gear. I say again, order your gear! Spring is the worst time to think about ordering parts for your hive, so get your orders in now. For those who do not order pre-assembled parts, winter is the perfect time to build a couple supers or staple foundation into frames. Many keepers wait until February to place orders and find themselves on a wait-list. That’s fine if you have a garage of spare parts, but not so good if you’ve already used up your last frame. The moment things get cramped, honeybees will swarm. Make sure you have enough wooden ware to keep ahead of them. I prefer at least one full hive extra since you can make splits or, worst case, serve as a foster keeper until your procrastinating friend/student/mentor’s gear arrives.
2) Read: Winter is also the perfect time to brush up on the latest news/trends and periodicals like Bee Culture and the American Bee Journal (among others) are excellent sources. Our understanding of these amazing creatures continues to expand and keeping your finger on the latest pulse is a good way to ensure that you are up to date. Then again, for as much as we know about honeybees, they are still a mystery to us. What better way to kill a few cold, wintery nights than brushing up on the history and latest discovery about out little friends?
3) Meet: If you’re not already a member of a local bee club, join one. If you are a member, attend a few meetings. Like reading, club meetings are not only a great way to brush up on the latest news, but also a place to pick the brains of people who have a lot of hands-on experience with the hobby.
4) Listen: If you enjoy the backyard science of beekeeping, then you’ll find yourself tempted to check on your charges. While opening the hive can be dangerous to the girls at colder temps, you can certainly listen to them. Go ahead and trod on out to the hive, press your ear to the side of the brood chamber, and listen to what’s going on. A health hive will have a soft, quiet hum to it. That’s the sound of the bees vibrating for warmth.
Anyway, those are just a few tips. The next few months will be challenging for the bees, but if you can get them, and yourself, ready for winter, you’ll find that next spring they’ll be healthier, stronger, and happier.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Ghostly Bees
Without a doubt, one of the worst things to happen to honeybees of late is the varroa mite. There are pages and pages of written studies on these parasites and I highly encourage anyone interested in the sport of beekeeping to read as much as they can on the matter. Suffice to say, they are bad and beekeepers are struggling to keep them under control.
What are Varroa?
Varroa mites, also known as Evil Incarnate, are essentially minuscule bee-ticks. Oval shaped, reddish-brown, and about a millimeter in diameter, they are similar to normal ticks in that they physically latch on to bees in the wild and hitch a ride back to the hive. Once inside, the female mite finds an open cell with larvae and hides out until the bees cap the cell. Once capped, the female lays eggs and then the babies hatch and suck the blood of the developing larvae. By the time the bee emerges, it is deformed and weakened and usually has a much shorter life span. Emerging along with the mutated bee is a handful more adult mites who then find new cells to infect. From there, the process repeats itself. Left unchecked, an infestation of varroa will weaken a hive to the point of death.
I have no idea why Mother Nature would create such suicidal parasites, but they exist and can lead to hive collapse if you, Keeper Extraordinaire, don't treat for them. And you'll have to because as the saying goes, it's not if you're hive will get mites, but when.
So what can we do to deal with them? Enter IPM.
IPM:
As newly minted beekeepers, we were encouraged by the BANV experts to learn the ways of Integrated Pest Management (IPM). IPM is a layered offense against pests/mites/evil and keepers monitor and treat them in increasing levels of intensity as needed. You start with passive methods (like screened bottom boards), then move to "soft" methods for treatment (like powdered sugar, essential oils, etc) and eventually work up to hard chemicals (stuff that comes with bio warnings, hand grenades, etc).
When I'd first purchased my hive, I made sure to buy a screened bottom board. According to books and "sea stories" from other keepers, the screened bottom board was my first line of defense against the dreaded varroa. Even they cling to bees, a certain percentage get knocked off or cleaned off inside. The screened bottom board allows the mites to fall through and, since they can't fly and require direct contact to latch on, they die. Good riddance, too.
Screened bottom boards also allow for mite counts. Most beekeeping supply companies sell bottom boards with removable plastic boards that catch whatever detritus falls through. A typical mite count is conducted over three days and it is important for a keeper to have thresholds for when/if to treat. In the Spring mites will likely be fewer, but by Fall, with the winter population on the rise, most hives will see an explosion of mites. Conducting monthly counts will keep your finger on the pulse of mite levels in the hive and, if things are looking like they are getting out of hand, gives you the tools do decide what your next course of action will be.
Discovering the Mites:
The first month of owning my hive, I was blissfully happy because the bees were foraging like mad-women and the mite count was zero. Everything changed the second month when I conducted my count and discovered 15 of the little twits on the mite board. They were small and hard to pick out among the fallen pollen, bee parts, and other junk that fell through the screen, but once seen, it was clear what they were. My hive had mites and it felt as if someone had stabbed me in the gut with a icicle. The honeymoon was over.
I monitored the mites over the next couple of months and thankfully the numbers stayed low. Even so, there was the knowledge that as the population boomed, so would the mites, so I made sure to keep an eye on things. Good thing I did, too, because during a brass-tacks inspection in late-July, I discovered a total of 81 mites over a 3-4 day drop. That went over my 20-mite-per-day threshold, so I decided it was time to treat.
Sugaring the Bees:
The first "soft" layer of treatment I chose was the infamous Powdered Sugar method. The theory behind this is that the bees hate the feeling of powdered sugar and will clean themselves like mad to get it off. In doing so, they knock off mites that are clinging to them. Unfortunately, it does nothing to treat the mites inside the larvae cells, so you have to hit them three more times, each a week apart, to ensure you get a full generation of girls (there's a three week life cycle from egg to hatched bee). It's a fairly safe method that doesn't harm the bees and many keepers like this for the first layer of offense against the mites.
The GF, being the sport that she is, agreed to help me, so we made our trek to Costco, bought two HUGE bags of powdered sugar, and then headed to the apiary for treatment.
The process was relatively quick and easy. The GF and I smoked the girls to drive them inside, removed the honey super, and then spread the sugar all over the brood supers. We attempted to use a sifter and we'd also built a "spreader" from an empty can of oatmeal (complete with holes punched in the top), but in the end we found it was easier to just pull the top off and shake the sugar all over the bees. P recommends that we use about a cup of sugar per hive, but the GF and I hadn't talked with her at that point and we may have used a few cups more than necessary. Once coated, we buttoned everything up and beat feat back to the house.
I learned two very important lessons from the treatment. First, bees haaaaaaate powdered sugar. My hive, which is normally very quiet and gentle, went bonkers the second we shook the stuff all over them. White, ghostly looking bees rolled around on the ground cleaning themselves while others zigzagged in the air trailing powdered sugar. I think I even heard a few make some disparaging comments about my mother. The sugaring was for their own good, so I let the comments go.
The second lesson is that ghostly bees are hilarious. There were thousands of these powdery insects flying around trailing sugar. If they weren't so ticked, the GF and I may have hung around to watch. Instead, we beat feat and let the girls deal work out their issues alone.
And to think, we get to do the same thing again for three more weeks. . . .
What are Varroa?
Varroa mites, also known as Evil Incarnate, are essentially minuscule bee-ticks. Oval shaped, reddish-brown, and about a millimeter in diameter, they are similar to normal ticks in that they physically latch on to bees in the wild and hitch a ride back to the hive. Once inside, the female mite finds an open cell with larvae and hides out until the bees cap the cell. Once capped, the female lays eggs and then the babies hatch and suck the blood of the developing larvae. By the time the bee emerges, it is deformed and weakened and usually has a much shorter life span. Emerging along with the mutated bee is a handful more adult mites who then find new cells to infect. From there, the process repeats itself. Left unchecked, an infestation of varroa will weaken a hive to the point of death.
I have no idea why Mother Nature would create such suicidal parasites, but they exist and can lead to hive collapse if you, Keeper Extraordinaire, don't treat for them. And you'll have to because as the saying goes, it's not if you're hive will get mites, but when.
So what can we do to deal with them? Enter IPM.
IPM:
As newly minted beekeepers, we were encouraged by the BANV experts to learn the ways of Integrated Pest Management (IPM). IPM is a layered offense against pests/mites/evil and keepers monitor and treat them in increasing levels of intensity as needed. You start with passive methods (like screened bottom boards), then move to "soft" methods for treatment (like powdered sugar, essential oils, etc) and eventually work up to hard chemicals (stuff that comes with bio warnings, hand grenades, etc).
When I'd first purchased my hive, I made sure to buy a screened bottom board. According to books and "sea stories" from other keepers, the screened bottom board was my first line of defense against the dreaded varroa. Even they cling to bees, a certain percentage get knocked off or cleaned off inside. The screened bottom board allows the mites to fall through and, since they can't fly and require direct contact to latch on, they die. Good riddance, too.
Screened bottom boards also allow for mite counts. Most beekeeping supply companies sell bottom boards with removable plastic boards that catch whatever detritus falls through. A typical mite count is conducted over three days and it is important for a keeper to have thresholds for when/if to treat. In the Spring mites will likely be fewer, but by Fall, with the winter population on the rise, most hives will see an explosion of mites. Conducting monthly counts will keep your finger on the pulse of mite levels in the hive and, if things are looking like they are getting out of hand, gives you the tools do decide what your next course of action will be.
Discovering the Mites:
The first month of owning my hive, I was blissfully happy because the bees were foraging like mad-women and the mite count was zero. Everything changed the second month when I conducted my count and discovered 15 of the little twits on the mite board. They were small and hard to pick out among the fallen pollen, bee parts, and other junk that fell through the screen, but once seen, it was clear what they were. My hive had mites and it felt as if someone had stabbed me in the gut with a icicle. The honeymoon was over.
I monitored the mites over the next couple of months and thankfully the numbers stayed low. Even so, there was the knowledge that as the population boomed, so would the mites, so I made sure to keep an eye on things. Good thing I did, too, because during a brass-tacks inspection in late-July, I discovered a total of 81 mites over a 3-4 day drop. That went over my 20-mite-per-day threshold, so I decided it was time to treat.
Sugaring the Bees:
The first "soft" layer of treatment I chose was the infamous Powdered Sugar method. The theory behind this is that the bees hate the feeling of powdered sugar and will clean themselves like mad to get it off. In doing so, they knock off mites that are clinging to them. Unfortunately, it does nothing to treat the mites inside the larvae cells, so you have to hit them three more times, each a week apart, to ensure you get a full generation of girls (there's a three week life cycle from egg to hatched bee). It's a fairly safe method that doesn't harm the bees and many keepers like this for the first layer of offense against the mites.
The GF, being the sport that she is, agreed to help me, so we made our trek to Costco, bought two HUGE bags of powdered sugar, and then headed to the apiary for treatment.
The process was relatively quick and easy. The GF and I smoked the girls to drive them inside, removed the honey super, and then spread the sugar all over the brood supers. We attempted to use a sifter and we'd also built a "spreader" from an empty can of oatmeal (complete with holes punched in the top), but in the end we found it was easier to just pull the top off and shake the sugar all over the bees. P recommends that we use about a cup of sugar per hive, but the GF and I hadn't talked with her at that point and we may have used a few cups more than necessary. Once coated, we buttoned everything up and beat feat back to the house.
I learned two very important lessons from the treatment. First, bees haaaaaaate powdered sugar. My hive, which is normally very quiet and gentle, went bonkers the second we shook the stuff all over them. White, ghostly looking bees rolled around on the ground cleaning themselves while others zigzagged in the air trailing powdered sugar. I think I even heard a few make some disparaging comments about my mother. The sugaring was for their own good, so I let the comments go.
The second lesson is that ghostly bees are hilarious. There were thousands of these powdery insects flying around trailing sugar. If they weren't so ticked, the GF and I may have hung around to watch. Instead, we beat feat and let the girls deal work out their issues alone.
And to think, we get to do the same thing again for three more weeks. . . .
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Installation Day
I was an excited mess the two weeks before my bees were ready for pick-up. Having purchased a nucleus colony (aka nuc) from one of the BANV members, I was fairly certain they would be well maintained and cared for until handed over to me. Until that time, the GF and I busied ourselves with getting everything ready for their arrival. We built/painted the hive and assembling the frames (by the way, I recommend using a frame jig and nail gun. It speeds up construction). Then I cleared a space in the drain field at the family homestead, set the hive out, and planted several bee-friendly plants. After that, it was a long waiting period with a lot of reading and pacing.
About two weeks before they were ready to come home, the reality of what I'd done suddenly set in. No longer was my dabbling in beekeeping an interesting icebreaker at parties, but a no-kidding, actual event. There was more than one night where I stared at the ceiling wondering what in the world I'd gotten myself in to.
The call that the bees were ready for pick-up came on a warm Friday in mid-May. I was at work when our Education Guru phoned me, so I jumped in the truck and zipped out to her house. It was quite the eye-opener to arrive at her home and see several cardboard boxed sitting in her carport, all zooming with honeybees. Since I'd just come from the office, I was still in my business suit and realized that I had been so excited, I'd completely forgotten the keeper outfit at the house. The EG smiled as I stood frozen in her driveway and said not to worry; the bees were extremely gentle. Her words fell on deaf ears because it suddenly dawned on me that there was no going back. These bees were going home with me with or without a keeper suit.
The EG sealed the girls up and then handed over the cardboard box. It was about four times the size of a shoebox and you could hear all 15,000 some-odd girls buzzing inside. There was a ventilation screen on both ends and it was fascinating to watch their proboscis (tongues) sticking out, feeling around for food and water. We loaded them into the back of the truck and then Pat told me to drive straight home and put them in a cool place. It was warm outside and with the box sealed, there was the threat of them overheating. The best thing to do, she said, was to put them in a cool, dry place as soon as possible.
The drive home was slow for fear of disturbing the girls, but eventually all 15,001 of us made it without incident. I left them in the truck bed, but kept the truck in the garage (which was easily 15 degrees cooler than outside), and went in to change. P and the GF arrived shortly behind us and we collected all our gear/tools while the girls cooled down. P sprayed some water on the vents and then we loaded the ladies into the wheelbarrow suited up. Once set, we all headed to the apiary.
Funny anecdote: the tape on the bottom of the nuc came loose so when we started moving the wheelbarrow, the box got bent just enough to allow a couple bees to escape. We closed/taped the hole immediately, but had a few followers the whole way. What's interesting is that after a few laps of the three keepers, all of them landed on the nuc and held on for dear life. Must have been the queen pheromone. Or the raw terror of realizing who their new keeper was.
The Actual Installation was. . . . .
. . . . pretty easy. Having helped P install packaged bees, the nuc truly was a walk in the park. Once we got to the hive, we popped the top off and removed all the frames out of the bottom super. Then we removed the top of the nuc and slowly extracted each of the five frames, installing them one at a time in the empty super. I'll admit to being tentative and slow, more out of fear than anything, but between the three of us, we got all frames into the hive quickly. Then we added three more frames (8-frame gear) and buttoned everything up. Start to finish, it took us maybe 30 minutes which included some whimpering on my part.
Soon after the installation, the air in front of the hive was swarming with bees. P claims this was due to orientation flights and it was an impressive sight to see. By evening things had settled down, but for a while there, things were pretty active.
A good lesson learned from this experience is that for a new beekeeper, nucs are a very good way to go. Packages are fun to install and usually a little cheaper, but for the money I think a nuc is easier to install and a lot safer for someone ignorant of the sport. Packages can run the risk of not accepting a queen and there are debates about the speed it takes for them to build up foundation and populations, so starting off it can be a lot for a newbie. That's not to say it isn't worth it and those that choose packages can certainly be successful, but nucs are basically ready to go. That being said, below is a bulleted pro/con for each and you can decide which you prefer.
Summary: Packages vs Nucs for a new beekeeper
Packages Pros:
- Usually less expensive.
- Very fun to install. You get to spray and shake bees as well as see up close what the queen looks like (markings and all).
- Can be mailed through the postal office. I'm not sure how the workers feel about a shoebox full of buzzing bees sitting in their offices, but some companies will mail them.
- Very educational. Proof positive how gentle "installed" bees can be.
- Considered by some to be a "rights of passages" for a new beekeeper.
- Normally inspected for health. A reputable dealer will do this, but just make sure to ask.
Packages Cons:
- Bees sometimes do not accept the queen. This is often because the queen and bees are from different hives, so it takes a while for them to accept her as "mom".
- Can take a while for the bees to adjust to the new home. This includes drawing foundation and building brood which can slow production down initially. Queen is not laying yet.
- Packages tend to come from southern states because they get a jump on warm weather. This can be an issue for cold weather states since they are not adapted to the temperatures. Some experts encourage buying local bees and there are companies/individuals all over the place, but as mentioned above, make sure they are inspected by the state for health. (Disclaimer: warm-state bees can be just as successful as local ones. I only mention this as a con since there are debates about cold vs warm weather and honeybee adaptability).
Nuc Pros:
- Bees are ready to go. You usually get 5 frames of them with a laying queen they have accepted. It's basically a mini hive with drawn comb and bees ready to forage.
- Extremely easy to install.
- Inspected for health. The box should have a sticker from the state.
- Great for a new beekeeper (my opinion).
Nuc Cons:
- Usually have to buy and pick up locally. Beekeepers are all over the place, but finding one that sells nucs made be difficult depending on where you are.
- Run the risk of killing the queen if you're sloppy (i.e. slamming a frame, etc). This can happen with packages, but I note it since it is a con.
- Risk of unhealthy/infected bees. Again, ensure your wrangler is inspected by the state.
- Tend to be more expensive.
- Tend to be in high demand and limited supply. If you want to go this route, let your seller know early.
In the end, the choice is personal and both can be very effective/successful. The best thing you can do is educate yourself and decide which fits you best. But no matter what, either one is very enjoyable.
About two weeks before they were ready to come home, the reality of what I'd done suddenly set in. No longer was my dabbling in beekeeping an interesting icebreaker at parties, but a no-kidding, actual event. There was more than one night where I stared at the ceiling wondering what in the world I'd gotten myself in to.
The call that the bees were ready for pick-up came on a warm Friday in mid-May. I was at work when our Education Guru phoned me, so I jumped in the truck and zipped out to her house. It was quite the eye-opener to arrive at her home and see several cardboard boxed sitting in her carport, all zooming with honeybees. Since I'd just come from the office, I was still in my business suit and realized that I had been so excited, I'd completely forgotten the keeper outfit at the house. The EG smiled as I stood frozen in her driveway and said not to worry; the bees were extremely gentle. Her words fell on deaf ears because it suddenly dawned on me that there was no going back. These bees were going home with me with or without a keeper suit.
The EG sealed the girls up and then handed over the cardboard box. It was about four times the size of a shoebox and you could hear all 15,000 some-odd girls buzzing inside. There was a ventilation screen on both ends and it was fascinating to watch their proboscis (tongues) sticking out, feeling around for food and water. We loaded them into the back of the truck and then Pat told me to drive straight home and put them in a cool place. It was warm outside and with the box sealed, there was the threat of them overheating. The best thing to do, she said, was to put them in a cool, dry place as soon as possible.
The drive home was slow for fear of disturbing the girls, but eventually all 15,001 of us made it without incident. I left them in the truck bed, but kept the truck in the garage (which was easily 15 degrees cooler than outside), and went in to change. P and the GF arrived shortly behind us and we collected all our gear/tools while the girls cooled down. P sprayed some water on the vents and then we loaded the ladies into the wheelbarrow suited up. Once set, we all headed to the apiary.
Funny anecdote: the tape on the bottom of the nuc came loose so when we started moving the wheelbarrow, the box got bent just enough to allow a couple bees to escape. We closed/taped the hole immediately, but had a few followers the whole way. What's interesting is that after a few laps of the three keepers, all of them landed on the nuc and held on for dear life. Must have been the queen pheromone. Or the raw terror of realizing who their new keeper was.
The Actual Installation was. . . . .
. . . . pretty easy. Having helped P install packaged bees, the nuc truly was a walk in the park. Once we got to the hive, we popped the top off and removed all the frames out of the bottom super. Then we removed the top of the nuc and slowly extracted each of the five frames, installing them one at a time in the empty super. I'll admit to being tentative and slow, more out of fear than anything, but between the three of us, we got all frames into the hive quickly. Then we added three more frames (8-frame gear) and buttoned everything up. Start to finish, it took us maybe 30 minutes which included some whimpering on my part.
Soon after the installation, the air in front of the hive was swarming with bees. P claims this was due to orientation flights and it was an impressive sight to see. By evening things had settled down, but for a while there, things were pretty active.
A good lesson learned from this experience is that for a new beekeeper, nucs are a very good way to go. Packages are fun to install and usually a little cheaper, but for the money I think a nuc is easier to install and a lot safer for someone ignorant of the sport. Packages can run the risk of not accepting a queen and there are debates about the speed it takes for them to build up foundation and populations, so starting off it can be a lot for a newbie. That's not to say it isn't worth it and those that choose packages can certainly be successful, but nucs are basically ready to go. That being said, below is a bulleted pro/con for each and you can decide which you prefer.
Summary: Packages vs Nucs for a new beekeeper
Packages Pros:
- Usually less expensive.
- Very fun to install. You get to spray and shake bees as well as see up close what the queen looks like (markings and all).
- Can be mailed through the postal office. I'm not sure how the workers feel about a shoebox full of buzzing bees sitting in their offices, but some companies will mail them.
- Very educational. Proof positive how gentle "installed" bees can be.
- Considered by some to be a "rights of passages" for a new beekeeper.
- Normally inspected for health. A reputable dealer will do this, but just make sure to ask.
Packages Cons:
- Bees sometimes do not accept the queen. This is often because the queen and bees are from different hives, so it takes a while for them to accept her as "mom".
- Can take a while for the bees to adjust to the new home. This includes drawing foundation and building brood which can slow production down initially. Queen is not laying yet.
- Packages tend to come from southern states because they get a jump on warm weather. This can be an issue for cold weather states since they are not adapted to the temperatures. Some experts encourage buying local bees and there are companies/individuals all over the place, but as mentioned above, make sure they are inspected by the state for health. (Disclaimer: warm-state bees can be just as successful as local ones. I only mention this as a con since there are debates about cold vs warm weather and honeybee adaptability).
Nuc Pros:
- Bees are ready to go. You usually get 5 frames of them with a laying queen they have accepted. It's basically a mini hive with drawn comb and bees ready to forage.
- Extremely easy to install.
- Inspected for health. The box should have a sticker from the state.
- Great for a new beekeeper (my opinion).
Nuc Cons:
- Usually have to buy and pick up locally. Beekeepers are all over the place, but finding one that sells nucs made be difficult depending on where you are.
- Run the risk of killing the queen if you're sloppy (i.e. slamming a frame, etc). This can happen with packages, but I note it since it is a con.
- Risk of unhealthy/infected bees. Again, ensure your wrangler is inspected by the state.
- Tend to be more expensive.
- Tend to be in high demand and limited supply. If you want to go this route, let your seller know early.
In the end, the choice is personal and both can be very effective/successful. The best thing you can do is educate yourself and decide which fits you best. But no matter what, either one is very enjoyable.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Diving into the Deep End
For anyone that has ever thought of facing their worst nightmare, may I suggest two things:
1) Have a mentor of some sort.
2) Make sure you actually want to go through with it.
I was lucky to have half of that going for me. Thanks to the wonderful folks at BANV, I was assigned a fantastic mentor who is about the best you can ask for. P, for short, has been keeping bees for over 30 years and lives about 10 minutes from my apiary (aka bee yard). She's smart, funny, and can zip through a "brass tacks" inspection in record time. (Brass Tacks, by the way, refers to going all the way to the bottom of something, in this case the hive, where the "brass tacks" would be located. Don't worry, we'll scrabble a glossary together at some point).
The main reason why P is such a great mentor, however, is her willingness to allow me to baby-step along the way. Soon after being assigned to her, she asked if I wanted to help her inspect the three dead-out hives which, as we discovered, had died due to a combination of varroa mites (evil incarnate) and starvation. Apparently a lot of keepers lost hives this past winter to starvation because during the sudden cold snaps, the bees refused to move off the comb where the brood (babies) were to get more food. It's like a catch-22 where if they'd moved, the brood would have died, yet not going into the upper stories of the hive where the honey was meant death. It was quite a site to see thousands of dead bees on the bottom of a hive and hundreds of corpses more head-first in a honey cell especially since it meant they had chosen to starve rather than leave the larvae to freeze.
By the time we got to her live hive, I was feeling a little better about things. We did a brass tacks inspection, weighed it (it was on an industrial sized scale), and boogied out. I may have smoked them a few dozen times too many, but I was pretty proud of myself for not screaming. P then asked if I wanted to help her install the new bees whenever they arrived. Without thinking, I said yes.
A few weeks later, she invited me over to help her install two new packages of Italians. At that point, I was enjoying the beginner beekeeping course, but still unsure about whether or not I was going to pull the trigger on becoming a keeper myself. Since I was waffling, it made sense to assist her. If there was ever a test to see if it was something doable, this was it. Better to jump into the deep end and sink or swim than never jump at all.
I'll say this now, The Girlfriend surprised the heck out of me when I told her what my plans were for that Saturday. Not only did she encourage such a hair-brained idea, but begged to come along and watch. It took several times of me asking, "Are you suuuuure?" before I realized she really was. And so it was on a bright, chilly March morning (my birthday, in fact) that The Girlfriend and I headed to P's to play with her B's.
(see previous post regarding puns)
When we arrived, P had a bunch of her spare hive parts around her garage which we were able to inspect and tinker with. Then P pulled out her spare gear and The Girlfriend asked to suit up as well. What's great is that even though she only had a veil, she was fine with it. So there we were, P in her bee-Kevlar, me in a half-jacket, and the GF with only her "going out" outfit and a veil. Without missing a step we sauntered out into P's apiary.
3) Bees are the most gentle when you're installing them. Since they don't know the hive is home yet, they are less interested in defending it. That's not to say they still won't sting you if you crush one (like P did), but they are very passive and easy to handle. And, if you spray them with sugar syrup before shaking them, there will be less bees flying around you. Just don't over do it.
4) Packaged bees tend to take "cleansing flights". This is because they have been "holding it" for several days and really need to "go". If it's chilly, they will land, and subsequently defecate, on your nice, clean, bee suit.
In then end, I had a lot of fun, learned a ton about bees, and felt a lot better about tackling the backyard science of beekeeping.
It was one of the best birthday presents ever.
(Author left, GF right)
1) Have a mentor of some sort.
2) Make sure you actually want to go through with it.
I was lucky to have half of that going for me. Thanks to the wonderful folks at BANV, I was assigned a fantastic mentor who is about the best you can ask for. P, for short, has been keeping bees for over 30 years and lives about 10 minutes from my apiary (aka bee yard). She's smart, funny, and can zip through a "brass tacks" inspection in record time. (Brass Tacks, by the way, refers to going all the way to the bottom of something, in this case the hive, where the "brass tacks" would be located. Don't worry, we'll scrabble a glossary together at some point).
The main reason why P is such a great mentor, however, is her willingness to allow me to baby-step along the way. Soon after being assigned to her, she asked if I wanted to help her inspect the three dead-out hives which, as we discovered, had died due to a combination of varroa mites (evil incarnate) and starvation. Apparently a lot of keepers lost hives this past winter to starvation because during the sudden cold snaps, the bees refused to move off the comb where the brood (babies) were to get more food. It's like a catch-22 where if they'd moved, the brood would have died, yet not going into the upper stories of the hive where the honey was meant death. It was quite a site to see thousands of dead bees on the bottom of a hive and hundreds of corpses more head-first in a honey cell especially since it meant they had chosen to starve rather than leave the larvae to freeze.
As morose as inspecting a dead-out hive may sound, it's actually a perfect first step for a near-phobia-wanna-be-beekeeper. After the initial uneasiness of approaching and opening the hive, I became fascinated with how it was put together and all the inner workings that made it tick. Since the inhabitants were dead, there was little threat and, sick as it sounds, that put me at ease. P let me practice pulling out frames (individual wooden slats with beeswax foundations that the bees use for babies, honey, pollen storage, etc) and practice cleaning beeswax and propolis (the bee's version of caulk) off the wooden ware.
By the time we got to her live hive, I was feeling a little better about things. We did a brass tacks inspection, weighed it (it was on an industrial sized scale), and boogied out. I may have smoked them a few dozen times too many, but I was pretty proud of myself for not screaming. P then asked if I wanted to help her install the new bees whenever they arrived. Without thinking, I said yes.
A few weeks later, she invited me over to help her install two new packages of Italians. At that point, I was enjoying the beginner beekeeping course, but still unsure about whether or not I was going to pull the trigger on becoming a keeper myself. Since I was waffling, it made sense to assist her. If there was ever a test to see if it was something doable, this was it. Better to jump into the deep end and sink or swim than never jump at all.
I'll say this now, The Girlfriend surprised the heck out of me when I told her what my plans were for that Saturday. Not only did she encourage such a hair-brained idea, but begged to come along and watch. It took several times of me asking, "Are you suuuuure?" before I realized she really was. And so it was on a bright, chilly March morning (my birthday, in fact) that The Girlfriend and I headed to P's to play with her B's.
(see previous post regarding puns)
When we arrived, P had a bunch of her spare hive parts around her garage which we were able to inspect and tinker with. Then P pulled out her spare gear and The Girlfriend asked to suit up as well. What's great is that even though she only had a veil, she was fine with it. So there we were, P in her bee-Kevlar, me in a half-jacket, and the GF with only her "going out" outfit and a veil. Without missing a step we sauntered out into P's apiary.
Packages of bees tend to come in wooden boxes nearly double the size of a shoebox. There are screens on either side, a large can of food (generally a sugar syrup mix), and a small, separate box with the queen and her attendants. In the middle of all this is approximately 11,000 buzzing, hungry bees.
Some people have packages mailed to their local post office, which I'm sure is a lot of fun for the postal clerks, but the majority pick them up from bee wranglers. These ladies and gents drive down to places like Georgia with large trailers and pick up hundreds of packages to bring back to beekeepers in their area. The sight, and sound, of a truck full of bees is pretty amazing.
There's plenty of literature out there for how to install a package of bees, so I won't bore you with the details. I do, however, highly encourage anyone interested to either help or, at the least, watch. You'd be surprised how easy it is and how gentle the bees really are.
You'll also be surprised at how quickly your heart can beat, especially when your mentor tells you to bang the corner of the package of bees on the ground in order to "knock all the girls to one end."
Me: "I'm sorry. What?"
P: "Bang the corner. It'll knock them all to one end so you can shake them into the hive."
Me: "You want me to slam a box of 11,000 bees, with stingers, on the ground and then shake them into the hive like I'm sifting sand?"
P: "Yup."
Long story short, I did as directed. It was not only a whole lot of fun, but also a gigantic eye-opener to the personality of bees. One thing I learned is that once you spray them with sugar syrup, it's a whole lot easier to shake them into the hive. And yes, shaking 11,000 bees into a hive was probably the best part.
What's interesting is that it took us a lot less time than I thought and before we knew it, we were done and headed back to P's garage. The GF had participated in a lot of the evolution, had taken some photos, and generally enjoyed an afternoon of laughing at me while I whimpered and cursed trying to get bees into the hive. P, for her part, had been great with her advice and guidance, always offering help but allowing me to slowly complete a task.
Below are a number of important lessons I learned which are worth noting:1) Packages of bees are easy to install, but take longer to "grow" than a nucleus colony. Beginners may want to think about a nuc for their first hive(s) since it is essentially a mini-hive worth of bees and queen already hard at work. I wound up choosing a nuc and have had zero hiccups. And it was even easier than a package.
2) Packages tend to consist of a queen and 10,000-12,000 bees, many times from different hives. Bees are shaken into the box from hives and a queen box with attendants added. Because of that, sometimes the bees refuse to accept the queen since she doesn't smell like "mom". They may kill or roll her (kick her out), in which case you have to get a new one in asap. There's absolutely nothing wrong with package bees, though, because most times they accept her, but the chance exists that they may not. Just keep it in mind.
3) Bees are the most gentle when you're installing them. Since they don't know the hive is home yet, they are less interested in defending it. That's not to say they still won't sting you if you crush one (like P did), but they are very passive and easy to handle. And, if you spray them with sugar syrup before shaking them, there will be less bees flying around you. Just don't over do it.
4) Packaged bees tend to take "cleansing flights". This is because they have been "holding it" for several days and really need to "go". If it's chilly, they will land, and subsequently defecate, on your nice, clean, bee suit.
5) Bee poop stains.
6) Bees are not aggressive nor do they want to sting anyone. Although they can sting another insect multiple times with no adverse affect, stinging a mammal is fatal. Because of this, honeybees will run from you in the wild and will normally only sting while defending the hive (i.e. during a major honey flow) or if you crush them. Be careful and watch where your hands are while handling them to avoid this.
7) Bees willingly die trying to protect their young. Ask almost anyone who lost hives this last winter and they'll tell you about it. There is something awe-inspiring about an insect that is willing to starve to death in order to keep the babies warm.
8) Beekeepers are odd. They fall in love with bugs that carry weapons, swoon over and care for them like babies, and cry when they leave or die. They talk incessantly about their passion to anyone who will listen and worry constantly about their "girls". Given the short period of time I've had with a hive of my own, I completely understand.
9) Girlfriends that support you even though you are one of those odd beekeeper types are worth their weight in gold.
10) Childhood phobias are both debilitating and 100% worth getting over.
In then end, I had a lot of fun, learned a ton about bees, and felt a lot better about tackling the backyard science of beekeeping.
It was one of the best birthday presents ever.
(Author left, GF right)
(Author about to pull the food can out of the package)
(The GF and Author with the package fully installed. Victory!)
Friday, July 10, 2009
The Beginning and Goals
The Background:
First things first, I am terrified of bees. Not to the point of having a phobia, but enough raw fear that every memory I have of them involves flinching or running. My earliest memory of them was when I was stung after stepping on one on my front yard. Add in a childhood friend convincing me that bee stings would kill you and the foundation was set for a lifelong fear of an insect no bigger than a half dollar.
Trust me, it's not something I'm proud of.
So it must have come as a shock when I mentioned to my friends and family a sudden interest in beekeeping.
How it all got started:
There's been a lot of attention paid to bees in recent years. The sudden impact of Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD) skyrocketed society's interest in them. Many new beekeepers became interested as a result. I, however, knew nothing about CCD or the sudden decline of commercial beekeeping until I was already involved.
Makes me think I need to read the paper more often.
My entrance into the science of keeping bees was completely lackluster.
About two years ago, my father and I flew to Fort Meyer, FL to play golf with my uncle and his ex-brother-in-law. During breakfast one morning, the ex-brother-in-law broke out a jar of honey for our toast and I was blown away by the taste. When I asked him about it, he said it was from the beekeepers to whom he leased some of his Michigan farmland. Apparently the bees worked the Russian Thistle (a flower he had planted) and he got some of their product as a bonus. This stuff was good, better than anything store-bought for sure.
We talked about it for a moment and then he went into the science of the hive. He told me about the queen and her pheromones, how forager bees take orientation flights, and how shocking it is to watch a hive swarm. The more he went on about it, the more fascinated I became.
The Class:
Fast forward eighteen months. I spent my time reading everything I could get my hands on regarding backyard beekeeping. (On a side note, a couple great books I'd recommend are Beekeeping for Dummies by Howland Blackistone, The Backyard Beekeeper by Kim Flottum, and anything by Roger Morse. They are fantastic starting points for anyone interested in this sport. Believe me, checking on a hive can be a workout for us newbies.)
Anyway, after a year and a half of research, I decided to take a beekeeping course through the local club. In my case, this was with the Beekeeper's Association of Northern Virginia (BANV). They are a great crew of knowledgeable individuals and they teach one heck of a introductory course. Anyone in the Northern Virginia area who's interested, I recommend visiting their website at http://www.beekeepersnova.org.
After the class, I built the hive and bought the bees. Surprisingly, corralling 20,000 females into a box was easier than I thought. More on that experience later.
The Goal:
This blog is more or less designed to be a venting place for some of the interesting experiences, stupid antics, and fun facts I've learned in my short career as an amature beekeeper. More importantly, however, it's a place for anyone that is interested in this sport (and yes, I consider it one since you play defense against 60,000 ladies) to congregate, discuss, and share their experiences as well.
That bee-ing said, let's get the ball rolling.
(Yeah, I can guarantee there will bee more bad puns in the future. It's genetic).
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