Fear the Beard!

Beard of Honeybees (A Swarm)

Sometimes -- even vegetable garden bloggers can hit mental subject roadblocks. It happens to the best of us. And, in my case, it happens to the worst of us. I knew I wanted to write about bees. But you just can't put pen to paper without having some sort of interesting subject matter in mind.

As it turns out -- the bees did all the work for me -- clearing that mental roadblock with one swift buzz.

While I had intended to write about the return of the bright pink Hello Kitty themed hive box -- I needed more than that. I wrote about Hello Kitty years ago. It's old news. Yeah -- I keep bees in a box painted bright pink with a Hello Kitty character stenciled on the side. What's so weird about that? Doesn't everybody do that?

The Return of the Hello Kitty Hive Box

As it turns out -- the honeybees I keep in two brightly painted hive boxes (pink and yellow) did all the hard work for me. They did what bees naturally do. The queen inside one of those colonies did such a fantastic job at laying eggs that the colony grew far too large for the multiple boxes I had assembled. And when a colony grows too large for the space it occupies: it swarms. That swarm is pictured above, right. And, yes, that's a closeup on my part. Bees that swarm rarely sting, and the swarm came from one of the most gentle colonies I've ever had the pleasure of keeping.

This is how new colonies are born or created in the wild. Normally, bees swarm in the spring or early summer. While it's not uncommon for colonies to swarm in the summer, it is rare. In most cases the queen stopped laying eggs weeks ago. I just hope she gets started up again to rebuild colony strength. Because, the unfortunate thing about swarms is this: about half the colony vanishes in the space of a day or two.

Second Hive Box with Bees "Bearding" in Front

That equals into a dramatic loss in honey production -- if you're keeping honeybees for such a thing.

I literally had to start over this year. The colony I'd nursed for the better part of two years, gifted to me by another beekeeper who got out of the business, up and vanished on me last winter. I didn't see much activity out of that hive in December after freezing weather set in. That got me worried. When spring finally rolled around and the weather warmed, a hive check revealed the worst of news. The colony was long gone.

I'll be honest, I missed them. A yard without an active box of pollinators around is an empty yard. It's a quiet yard. Once you've kept bees for a year or two, you're hooked. It's tough to live without them. One would think a beekeeper would get tired of excited bees whizzing to and fro and thonking into the back of one's head. Not so. They are like children. And when children leave, it gets quiet. Too quiet.

Hive Boxes-Face to Face-Shaded by Wisteria

I would come to discover that last year was a particularly nasty year for beekeepers -- and not just hobbyists like myself. When I discovered that one of the most experienced members of the Sacramento Area Beekeepers Association (SABA) reported the loss of 100 colonies, I suddenly didn't feel so bad about losing my single, solitary hive. Honeybee loss hits everyone equally -- from the very experienced to the novice bonehead like myself.

I could have taken several actions to acquire new colonies. I could have purchased a package of bees plus a queen -- but I'm not a fan of that approach. There's no guarantee that the queen you're purchasing is a strong one, and the process of introducing a new queen to a colony is tricky. If you don't know what you're doing (SEE: BILL BIRD), the queen can get killed during the introduction process.

Swarm in a Nearby Pluot Tree

The second approach, which is the cheapest one I might add, is waiting for an established, wild colony to swarm. Colonies that swarm in the spring often come from strong hives that feature strong queens, which means there's a good chance that the swarm will contain a nice young, strong queen as well. The problem with this approach is waiting for the phone to ring. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it doesn't. You've also got to be prepared for a swarm call 24/7. Since I work full-time, bee hunting availability is at a premium.

The third option, which I chose this spring after getting a very nice offer from a very nice SABA member, is called a "Nuc Transfer." This involves the transfer of a queen, several frames of bees and several frames of honey to an existing hive box. The attractive offer came from SABA Treasurer Kate Morton, after I'd moaned about the loss of my colony the previous winter.

Honeybees "Bearding" in Front of Hive Box

"You want bees," she asked? "I have bees." When she quoted me a price so ridiculously low, I couldn't shout "SOLD" fast enough. I probably shouldn't be telling her this. She'll probably try to sell me another colony or three.

Sure enough -- her assurances of strong hives and strong queens were not empty promises. The swarm pictures included in this blog posting are proof of that. What initially started as three frames of bees in a small box -- something we call a "honey super" -- turned into three boxes stacked on top of one another overnight. Both queens were laying eggs at record rates. While I thought there was a chance one or both colonies might swarm, I also believed the addition of a true hive box at the bottom would prevent it.

Hah! Fat chance! Another boneheaded beekeeping move on my part. Add another one to a very long list.

Honeybee Collecting Siam Queen Basil Pollen

While I'd like to tell you that I kept and hived that swarm for myself, I'm not the best liar in the country. First and foremost, I've already tested the patience of nearby neighbors more than enough. Two colonies are fine. A third would be a little much. And while the City of Sacramento does encourage hobbyist beekeeping efforts, they also want beekeepers to limit the number of hives to just two. Two is exactly what I have. Adding a third, no matter how badly I wanted them, wouldn't have been the best of ideas.

Besides -- there's a popular poem regarding swarms that take place during the month of July. I didn't invent this. I'm not sure who did. But to beekeepers across the country -- and the world for that matter -- it's almost like a passage from the bible:

“A Swarm in May is worth a load of hay

A Swarm in June is worth a silver spoon

A Swarm in July ain’t worth a fly.”

Fear The Beard!

Why are swarms that take place in May or June more desirable than those in July? It has to do with pollen production, and the ability of a colony to gather enough pollen to produce enough honey stores for the winter months. In many areas of the country, pollen production begins to dry up in July. The harder pollen is to find -- the harder it is for the bees to make honey. And if a colony can't produce honey -- it's doomed. It will not survive the winter.

But that didn't stop a beekeeper from Loomis from making the trip down to our North Natomas farm to take a chance on this swarm. Like many beekeepers, this particular gentleman had retired from the rat race that is full-time work to take on the full-time hobby of beekeeping. My swarm, which sprang from Kate's bees, are now his colony.

Best of luck to the little buggers. I will miss them.

POSTSCRIPT:

If you're thinking the hobbyist beekeeper route might be the life for you -- I cannot stress the importance of belonging to a member organization like the Sacramento Area Beekeepers Association. Here you will find the meetings and helpful people who are essential to getting started. And they will more than welcome you to the club as there's always room for more. Please feel free to drop by the SABA booth at the upcoming State Fair! You just might run into the wife that is Venus and her kook of a husband. Sample free honey! See honeybees in a glass enclosed demonstration hive! The SABA booth is always a top draw for kids and parents alike.

Our Winter of Discontent

They're dead.

Gone.

Where? I don't know. All I can report at this point in time is that our Hello Kitty Beehive was empty when we checked it this morning. Other than four or five dead bees at the bottom of the hive -- there was nothing. Nada. Zip.

Where did they go? That's the $64 question boys and girls -- because I don't know. I can tell you that this hive was so full of bees this past September -- that the show they put on at night was enough to make anyone nervous. It wasn't unusual to encounter a mass of bees like this.

Venus and I had a strong -- crowded and somewhat aggressive beehive just two short months ago. But in the space of that time -- all of the bees that you see to your left vanished.

They didn't die (as far as I know). They just aren't there anymore.

The first hint that something might not be right in the hive came earlier this week when the new President of the Sacramento Area Beekeepers Association (SABA) came across a post on this blog titled "Forget About it Fishback!"

Let's just say the new President of SABA -- Brian Fishback -- wasn't all that pleased. And he let me know in the form of the following comment:

"Thank you for you kind words. It is warm and welcoming to know that this is how you treat people that you call upon for support. The fact of the matter is I obtain a lot of older, worn-out bee boxes, frames and tools from folks not finding the time or interest in beekeeping. Many of the colonies I obtain are infested, run-down and deprived by the time I get a call. So, what I providing is a service to the bees as well as to those who call upon me. I'm sorry that you feel this way. Maybe you can make a difference by holding an honorable position in the association as I do....Sincerely, Brian Fishback."

Oops.

It appears I touched a nerve. I didn't mean to do that. But sometimes -- well -- Bill Bird just sort of rubs people the wrong way. And -- what is largely "tongue in cheek" blog writing -- is taken quite seriously. I knew what had to be done.

I immediately called Brian at the number he left behind to profusely apologize. I told him that I didn't mean any offense -- and that my posting was merely a way to poke fun at people. But -- yes -- sometimes my "fun" can go a bit too far. I also told him the truth -- that I very much enjoyed and appreciated the support I had received from fellow beekeepers this summer. Without SABA -- the Hello Kitty Hive would have perished in June. That's the honest truth.

I think Brian appreciated the gesture -- and the apology. At that point -- the talk switched to bees and I told him about my reluctance to break into the hive to check on the bees due to some recent cold and nasty weather. During the last SABA meeting -- I had received this block of what's called "Pollen Patty," which I knew the hive would enjoy.

Brian advised me that I should have noticed bees flying in and out of the hive -- which I haven't seen since that blast of cold weather that the Sacramento area received in October. I knew the honey stores inside the hive were quite strong from my last check inside the hive in August -- and I knew the hive wasn't starving.

But the lack of activity? That concerned me. It concerned Brian as well -- who informed me that "his bees were flying today." He also related a somewhat scary story: He'd lost five of his hives in just the past month alone due to a condition called "Sudden Colony Collapse Disorder." This is the biggest problem facing hobbyist beekeepers and commercial Apiaries today. Normal, healthy, productive hives suddenly vanish without a trace.

Why is this happening? Nobody is quite sure -- but a great body of recent evidence points to a destructive little creature called the Varroa Mite. Beekeepers also refer to this pest as the Varroa Destructor -- because it can destroy entire colonies in a short matter of time. Invisible to the naked eye -- experienced beekeepers can spot evidence of the mite at work. But hobbyists such as Venus and I? The world clueless comes to mind.

Following Mr. Fishback's instructions to the letter -- my first move was to try to lift a corner of the hive. If it moved or lifted easily -- or weighed less than 20 lbs. (estimate) -- I was "in trouble" according to the SABA President. My hive, however? It wouldn't budge. I needed a shovel to lift a corner of it -- and by the time I finally got my fingers underneath the bottom board of the hive -- I knew it was more than 20 lbs. in weight.

Good news -- right?

Not so fast. The next move was to take my hive tool and pry off the top of the hive that the bees had long ago sealed with a sticky substance they secrete called "propolis." They had done an excellent job of sealing the top and bottom boards -- which was another good sign.

But when I finally cracked the top open -- well -- I instantly spotted "trouble" with a capital T. I should have seen a small mass of bees rising to the top to face the "human intruder." Instead -- Venus and I got nothing. And -- as I peered between the slats inside the hive looking for a mass of bees -- I found nothing.

No signs of life. A dead bee here or there. No spiders. No hive beetles. No mites. Nothing. The hive was devoid of life. What I found instead were combs that were rich with honey. I have a hive loaded with pollen and honey stores that would easily sustain a hive through the winter.

But the colony is gone. The queen is gone. There was no evidence whatsoever to support a scenario where the queen could have perished -- and worker bees attempted to create another. Instead I found empty comb in some places and many combs loaded with honey and pollen.

So -- what went wrong? You've got me. I don't think it was from lack of attention or lack of feeding. The bees had an ample supply of food inside the hive -- that much is evident. They had a healthy -- productive queen last summer -- as evidenced by masses of bees that would hang outside the hive entrance during those warm summer nights.

Does this spell the end of our beekeeping efforts? Honestly -- I can't tell you that right now. It's just too soon to say. It is somewhat depressing -- however -- to lose not one but two hives in the course of just one summer. It's time -- perhaps -- to take a break and think things over.

Perhaps I should have listened to Brian Fishback's generous offer after all.