Charles and I are beekeepers and spring is a very busy time for us. Coming out of winter, everything is on high alert to reduce the chance the colonies don’t swarm, to check for parasites and signs of weakness, to make sure the queens are present and ramping up their egg production. Then, there are the citizen calls for help with colonies in fallen trees and swarms. We like to help the community. If we are responsive to these requests for help, bees are saved, citizens are educated, and the world is a better place.
The past couple of weeks were particularly – I refuse to use the word stressful post retirement so lets just say – challenging. In addition to spring time bee things and trying to get the garden planted in the middle of record breaking rainfall, Charles had a two week work trip to Africa looming. We had to get all the “heavy lifting” chores completed before he left. Plus, my cardiologist scheduled a hole repair procedure for first week in June.
During our spring hive inspection, we discovered unhappily that one of our hives had turned severely aggressive – they tried to kill Charles multiple times. Just being in its general area resulted in many stings for him. There are myriad reasons for this – post winter crankiness, lack of resources, over crowding, bad weather – but usually the blame goes to the queen. Happy wife, happy life, isn’t just for humans, I guess.
With all the potential causes, there are as many solutions. After weighing the options, we chose to split the single large colony into four smaller colonies. I have done splits before, it is a normal thing we do to prevent swarming and allow growth, but this was my first time dealing with an aggressive colony. Frankly, that my sweet bees would actually turn on me hurt my feelings, and not just a little. The thought of intentionally killing one of my bees wasn’t sitting well with me, either. I had to tell myself it was a lot like my 30 years in dog rescue. An aggressive dog cannot and should not be placed in a home and the kindest thing to do for it and society is to … well. This is the sad part of animal care and yes, bees are animals.
Prior to the split, we waited a few days and did one more inspection of the aggressive hive to make sure the aggression was a fact and not a fluke. It was a fact. But we didn’t actually see the queen. She could be hiding well and she could be dead. Being queen-less can also cause the colony to turn aggressive.
So, we got to work on the plan to split the colony from one hive to four. Charles and I differ on hive work prep. I like to have a plan in place, I want to make sure I have every possible tool at the ready, even if I don’t end up using it. I would rather load my bee cart with the entire arsenal (toolbox, multiple hive boxes, extra frames, smoker, sugar spray, etc.), once and drag it all back once, than have to run back and forth because we needed the things we didn’t bring. Charles likes to travel light. The only time I regret bringing everything is when I have to drag it all back and unpack it. I am smugly satisfied when, during an intense situation, Charles says “I need to run up and get…” and I am able to say, “It’s in the cart.” We get our satisfaction where we can, right?
While working on the plan, I was feeling a bit …. challenged. Do we look again for the queen before proceeding or just proceed? Do we buy new queens from a local beekeeper known for his quality sweet queens? Do we provide brood frames to the splits and give them a chance to make their own? It was overwhelming for me. As much as I know about bees – exponentially more than I knew a few years ago – there is still so much to learn. While I have resources at my disposal and other more experienced beekeepers willing to help me along the way, even the experts differ on how to deal with any problem that may arise. The saying goes “ask 10 beekeepers for advice, get 10 completely different answers.”
Charles and I can be involved in the same conversation with a mentor, attend the same classes and meetings, read the same articles, consult the same books, but still interpret it all differently. Then we are locked into a debate on whose interpretation is correct. Add insult to injury, his memory is always different than my memory and neither of our memories are that great, lately. Writing down everything is key, and he can’t read my handwriting.
In a moment of weakness, I said to Charles, “I feel like a moron. I feel like I have all the information but none of the knowledge. I feel like an idiot.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because, we can’t be 100% sure this will work. Are we doing more harm than good?”
He looked at me for moment, shrugged, and said, “There is always going to be a cluster f**k.”
Of course, Charles being Charles, he has no idea how profound his fairly profane statement is. But, this t-shirt worthy quote says all there is to say about beekeeping, gardening, driving in traffic, holiday dinners, and just life in general. There is always going to be a cluster. Is expecting the clusters taking the negative view or just good planning?
We successfully split the hive and after a few days noticed a significant decline in the aggressive behavior. We made a judgment call and decided to get brand new mated queens from our local guy, instead of counting on the girls making their own. He could accommodate us, but only after I had put Charles on the plane to Africa. This meant that I would be installing these new queens on my own.
Yesterday, I drove across town to get my queens and some best practice advice for success. I reviewed my plan when I got home, had another cup of coffee and mentally prepared. I packed up the bee cart, started the smoker, retrieved the emergency EpiPen from the drawer and reviewed the “how to” on the package. Then I pulled on my suit, squared my shoulders and dragged the bee cart to the first hive stand.
It was a bright morning, no wind, a good day for working hives. Opening the first hive, I noticed the bees were not aggressive. I made a quick check for the possibility the queen may have ended up in this split – she didn’t – and installed the cage with the new queen and her attendants. Bees immediately went over to investigate and seemed to be very excited, but not aggressive, about her presence. If they didn’t like her, they would try to kill her through the cage. They seemed to like her. I repeated this with the other hives. In a few days, the bees will have chewed through the candy plug on the cages and release these queens into their hives. If all things go well, these ladies will start laying immediately and get to work building these splits into big beautiful productive colonies. Success feels good. I did it all by myself and didn’t die.
In bee circles we talk about clusters. A hanging bee cluster on the outside of a hive, for example, indicates the hive is hot inside and the bees are cooling themselves out on the porch. Bee clusters on the outside of a hive could also indicate they are preparing to swarm, but they behave differently. A cluster in a tree or any other place than a hive is a swarm. Some clusters are good, some are bad, some are neutral; all are temporary. Bee swarms move on to whatever hive location the scouts have determined for them. The hive will cool down and the bees will go back inside.
So, while Charles’ assertion that there is always going to be a cluster, the best and most certain thing about clusters is they never last long.
My challenge is to keep that in mind and try not to sweat the clusters.
