Tag Archives: summer

That’s all folks

That's all Folks

That’s all Folks

It’s late August and the end of my least successful beekeeping year ever. That sounds very negative, so perhaps it should be qualified. It’s the end of my least successful beekeeping year in terms of honey production.

However, in terms of the satisfaction I’ve got from my beekeeping, it’s been a pretty good year. Let’s examine these two things separately, dealing with the bad news first.

Tell ’em about the honey, mummy†

My production colonies only generated about 25lb each of Spring honey. Some of this was clearly oil seed rape (OSR) as there were fields just about in range, but much of it was essentially mixed hedgerow and tree nectar, and none the worse for that. This was all extracted in late May or early June and is now stored, set, in buckets. Later in the year, once the temperature drops, I’ll prepare soft set honey for sale or distribution to friends and family.

25lb is firmly at the bottom end of the averages over the last few years though – in fairness – It’s only my second Fife Spring, so I don’t have much recently to compare it with. Colonies were doing well when I first inspected them, but in some cases that wasn’t until early May. The active beekeeping season is only 4-5 months long here (latitude 56.3° N).

June started well, with clear weather and high temperatures.

And then it started to rain. And continued for almost the entire month.

Lime can yield well in July

Lime can yield well in July …

None of my full-size colonies needed feeding, but most reduced their brood rearing. July nectar flows were poor. The lime yielded a small amount of very high quality honey, but for whatever reason – poor weather, colonies not strong enough, patchy flows – pretty-much nothing else. The summer honey was extracted in mid-August and is already disappearing fast.

I didn’t take any colonies to the heather as I was abroad for a chunk of July when I’d need to be preparing and shifting them to the moors. And, in all likelihood, they probably weren’t strong enough anyway.

And that was it … like last year, all over much sooner than expected.

There’s some balsam in central Fife along the River Eden that might give some late-season nectar and there’s ivy (but that is some way off flowering yet) but I usually let the bees keep anything they collect once the summer honey is extracted.

Flowering ivy

Flowering ivy

And the good news is

Beekeeping isn’t all about honey. There’s also tremendous satisfaction to be gained from working with the colonies, improving your stock and feeling that – although perhaps not in complete control – you’ve got a pretty good grasp of what’s happening and how things are going.

In this regard, 2017 was a success.

I know I lost one swarm (actually a cast from the queenless half of a split). I got a call to say that the apiary was thick with bees but they’d long gone by the time I extricated myself from meetings and got home. In itself this wasn’t a success. However, I learned my lesson and managed to hive a second cast that issued from the same colony a day or two later. I also had success with my bait hives.

With a couple of exceptions my vertical splits went well, with the resultant queens both laying well and heading well-behaved colonies. The couple that didn’t work developed into (drone) laying workers and were dealt with successfully by uniting.

In retrospect, considering the weather in early/mid-June I’m astounded any queens managed to get out and mate. By late July colonies headed by these newly mated queens were developing well, with frame after frame of brood exhibiting a pretty respectable laying pattern.

That'll do nicely

That’ll do nicely …

Throughout the season I had a pretty good idea what was happening in most of my colonies. There were no big surprises … “Oops, a virgin queen, where did she come from?”, or “Grrrr … no queen, no eggs and no swarm cells, I’m stumped”.

Colonies behaved in a thoroughly predictable manner. Strong ones were caught before they swarmed, split and were merged back to a double brood box. Nucs developed pretty well, though they needed close attention and some emergency feeding through June. No drama, no panic.

The end of the summer season, other than the truly woeful honey yield, has left me with a good number of nicely behaved and generally very strong colonies. As always there’s one exception, but I’ll unite that weakling late this week if things haven’t picked up.

All the gear, no some idea

Split board ...

Split board …

Gradually equipment standardisation is starting to pay dividends. I ran out of almost nothing (I certainly didn’t run out of supers 🙁 ) and managed to mix’n’match as needed to leave colonies secure, watertight and with the proper bee space when needed. Homemade split boards ended up being pressed into service as floors and it’s clear I’ll have to make some additional kewl floors this winter.

Bamboo-strengthened foundationless frames were a great success. Furthermore, I prepared a second batch mid-season and never got round to using them, so have plenty to start the season next year. Result! However, it’s sobering to realise that one of the reasons they weren’t used was that the nectar flow simply wasn’t strong enough to get them drawn properly.

Finally, whilst we’re on the subject of equipment, I’ve used about half a dozen Abelo poly hives this year in addition to the usual Swienty boxes with homemade floors and roofs. First impressions of the Abelo boxes are pretty positive and I’ll write something up later in the year on them.

Season’s end … or the start of the new season?

Late summer and autumn is an important time in the beekeeping year. Some even consider it the start of the next season, as success in the subsequent year is very dependent upon the preparation in the preceding autumn.

Feed'n'treat ...

Feed’n’treat …

All my colonies are scarfing‡ down large quantities of fondant at the moment. They’ll all get another few kilograms as the autumn progresses. Unless there’s good reason to, it’s unlikely any colonies will be inspected again until Spring.

Varroa treatment is ongoing and the mite drop from most colonies is reassuringly low. I count the mites from each colony over a two week period. Over the first 5 days, some dropped just single figures …

All colonies are coordinately treated to maximise decimation of the mite population at a time when bees have a tendency to drift more and/or rob adjacent colonies – both being well-documented routes by which Varroa can be transmitted between hives. I’ve also helped a neighbouring beekeeper (with colonies within range of my own apiary) by loaning out my Sublimox so that, together, the mite population at a landscape-scale is reduced.

This is simple common sense. I don’t want my (nearly) mite-free colonies infested from neighbouring apiaries and I also don’t want the colonies I do have with appreciable mite levels (~50+ after 5 days treatment) to infest others.

2018

It’s far too soon for much serious thought about 2018. However, I already know there are going to be some major changes to my beekeeping. The local Council have just announced that they will shortly (Spring next year) build a new road literally through the middle of my bee shed and apiary … finding a new location and getting things rebuilt is my major focus at the moment.

And finally … it’s harvest time and raining again …

Mainly dry ...

Mainly dry …

† Tell ’em about the honey, mummy was a catchphrase from a TV advert for Sugar Puffs breakfast cereal. The advert aired from 1976 to ’85 and featured the Honey Monster and Henry McGee (from the Benny Hill show).

Henry is the one on the right.

They don’t make advertising like that any longer. For obvious reasons.

‡ Scarf is American slang meaning to ‘eat voraciously’. It’s probably a bastardisation of the word scoff. Scarf has other meanings and I strongly suggest you don’t look these up.

Colophon

That's All Folks

That’s All Folks

The phrase That’s all folks dates back to 1930 when it was used on the closing screen of a Warner Bros. Looney Tune cartoon.

Over the years many different characters used this line on both Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons. Mel Blanc (1908-’89), the actor who voiced (stuttered) the most famous version … Th-th-th-that’s all folks! has the engraving That’s All Folks on his gravestone.

There’s a 1949 Merrie Melodies cartoon called The Bee-Deviled Bruin with the Three Bears, a colony of bees and a shortage of honey for breakfast. Typical slapstick ensues. It ends with “That’s all folks”.

Peaceful easy feeling

The 6-8 week period between late June and harvesting the summer honey is a quiet period in the beekeeping calendar. At least, it is in mine. My colonies aren’t going to the heather, so there’s nothing to prepare for that. Swarm control is complete and many colonies are now headed by new queens, so the chance of swarming is minimal. The spring honey – what little there was of it on account of the incessant rain – was extracted in late June. It’s now easy going until the summer honey is taken off and the colonies are prepared for winter.

Inspect, or just observe?

The 7 day cycle of inspections that are so important as the season builds up become much less critical. If there’s a new mated, laying queen in a box with ample space, sufficient supers and enough stores (for adverse periods of weather) there’s actually little to be achieved by rummaging through the box on a weekly basis.

Instead, I generally just observe things from the outside. If pollen is being taken in by foragers, if there are good numbers of bees on orientation flights during warm mornings and if the hive is reassuringly heavy, then there’s probably no need to inspect weekly. A peek through a perspex crownboard can give a pretty good idea of how much space the colony has and whether they’re fully utilising the super. With experience, hefting the hive (gently lifting the back an inch or two and judging the weight) is a good indication of whether they might need an additional super. And that’s it … I generally leave these strong, healthy colonies to simply get on with things during July and into August.

But inspect when appropriate

Of course, some hives will need checking. For example, any hives that are clearly below-strength for an unknown reason should be carefully checked for signs of disease. Varroa levels can be readily, albeit pretty inaccurately, determined by putting a Correx Varroa tray below the open mesh floor and the colony should be inspected for obvious signs of deformed wing virus (DWV) symptoms.

High levels of DWV

High levels of DWV …

If there’s any doubt about the health of the colony consult a good book on the subject (Ted Hooper’s Bees and Honey is a reasonable start though some of the more comprehensively illustrated newer books might be better), ask your mentor or an experienced local association beekeeper and contact the local bee inspector if necessary.

Chronic Bee Paralysis Virus (CBPV) is a high-season problem for big, strong colonies. Sick bees exhibit characteristic shaking or shivering symptoms, look oily or greasy and accumulate in a large smelly pile below the hive entrance. A very distressing sight. I’ll be discussing CBPV in more detail over the next few months as it appears to be an increasing problem.

Queen problems

The other colonies I keep a close eye on are those with known or potential queen problems. These include colonies where the queen may not have mated, or those in which the queen appears to have got mated but the colony shows signs of early supercedure, suggesting that all is not right.

Hopalong Cassidy ...

Hopalong Cassidy …

The queen in the (rather poor) photograph above has a paralysed left rear leg. She’s a 2017 queen and emerged in early/mid June during a period of very poor weather. I found her as a skittish virgin very soon after emergence (quite possibly the day of emergence) then left the colony to get on with things. She was mated by the first week in July. Eggs were present but I didn’t see her in the colony. However, she wasn’t laying particularly well, either in terms of number or pattern.

Since I was disappearing to Malaysia on business for 10 days in late July I thoroughly inspected the colony before leaving. I discovered her hobbling around the frame, clearly with very severely impaired abilities. There was very little open or sealed brood in the colony. In the several minutes I watched her she didn’t lay any eggs despite checking lots of cells that looked polished and ready to me (but I accept she’s probably a better judge of a suitable cell than I am). She clearly could lay, and you can see an egg at the tip of her abdomen. I suspect that, although her walking wasn’t grossly impaired, she was unable to properly ‘reverse’ into the cell.

Not a bee ...

Not a bee …

Don’t delay, act today

Mid-July, a strongish colony with almost no brood, a crippled queen and no means of checking things for a fortnight meant that prompt action was needed. I removed the queen and united the colony over the top of another strong colony. The alternative was to wait and see if the colony disposed of her, or tried to supercede her. Either would have imposed a delay of about a month after my return, there were limited numbers of larvae for the colony to start from, a rapidly ageing worker population and little chance of the colony building up strongly through the autumn to overwinter successfully. This was a case of using them or potentially losing them.

I’ve no idea how the queen came to have a gammy† leg. I’d not seen her since she’d been mated. One possibility is that two queens emerged at or near the same time, duelled in the hive leaving one dead and the other partially crippled. Although damaged, the queen still managed to leave the hive to mate successfully, but then struggled to lay properly.

We’ll never know.

Late evening

Finally, if you’ve not visited your apiary late on a warm, calm summer evening then you really should. Strong colonies can be heard from some distance away, a sort of low humming sound. There’s the heady smell of warm honey in the air as they evaporate off water from stored nectar in preparation for capping stores off for the winter ahead. Highly recommended.

† Gammy meaning (especially of a leg) unable to function normally because of injury or chronic pain … in contrast to the fictional cowboy Hopalong Cassidy used to label the image. Hopalong Cassidy had a wooden leg.

Colophon

Peaceful easy feeling was the title of a song by the Eagles released in 1972 on their debut album (Eagles). The band, or what’s left of them after the recent death of Glenn Frey, continue to play live with four concerts last month.

Don Henley has just turned 70 and should really Take it Easy 😉

Beekeepers’ holidays

It can be tricky balancing the annual cycle of beekeeping activities with maintaining family responsibilities and domestic bliss. At least, I’m told I find it tricky 😉  Holidays, in particular, are problematic. I’m talking here about beekeepers’ holidays not beekeeping holidays, which are an entirely different thing. Many of the standard “family holiday” periods overlap with key events in the beekeeping calendar … and because the latter is influenced by the weather, it’s difficult to predict a few days ahead, let alone the 6-9 months that appear to be required to arrange a fortnight’s yacht charter in the Bahamas§.

Mallorcan market honey and (sort of) observation hive

Mallorcan market honey and (sort of) observation hive

With good weather, colony build-up is going to be full-on in April, and in a really good year you can be starting queen rearing at Easter if it is late in the month. May is when the swarming season starts … and ends in June, just in time for the “June gap” to start which (in a bad year) might require colonies to be fed. The summer months of July and August are busy with the main flow, preparing colonies for the heather or harvesting (and possibly more queen rearing). September means Varroa treatments should be applied and colonies should be fed syrup or fondant for the winter. And then midwinter is interrupted by oxalic acid treatment (or Api-Bioxal if you’re the type of beekeeper who can afford Bahamian cruises), checking stores etc. And almost all of the timings above can be plus or minus at least a fortnight to take account of the vagaries of the weather.

February and November might be provisionally free … which creates another weather-related problem. Firstly – if honey sales have gone well during the year (and they’ll need to have been good as the 90m Athena is an eye-watering $350,000/week) – you’ll not want to be going island-hopping in the Bahamas in November as it’s still the hurricane season. Secondly, if your knees are as bad as many beekeepers’ backs, skiing in February might be a non-starter even if snow is available.

Less is more …

… likely to avoid you losing a swarm. The duration of the family holiday is also an issue. Inspections really need to be conducted at 7 day intervals during the main part of the season – say late-April to late-July. A fortnight away can mean missing the development of queen cells which are capped on the ninth day, at which point the prime swarm with your queen and foraging workforce disappear over the apiary fence. Not only do you return to a rather emptier hive, but your chance of a good honey crop has just been significantly reduced. You can increase the inspection interval to 10 days if you clip your queens, but that’s still four days short of the fortnight.

Queen rearing, from colony preparation, through grafting, cell raising and getting the virgin queens mated, takes about a month and – although not hugely time-consuming – is very-much time-critical. Getting to your cell raiser a day late might mean you have a box with one virgin running about and a pile of virgin queen corpses.

Apiary in Andalucia

Apiary in Andalucia

Nevertheless, with a little preparation, an appreciation of colony development and your fingers firmly crossed it is possible to get away during the beekeeping season without too many problems.

Holiday solutions

It seems to me that there are three obvious solutions …

  1. Go between late autumn and early spring, to the southern hemisphere if you’re after some warm sunshine. Or to Aspen or Whistler for the skiing if your knees are up to it.
  2. Get a friend to look after your colonies and go whenever you want. Depending how well behaved your colonies are, or the state you find them in on your return, this might only work once per friend 😉
  3. Accept that some beekeeping activities will be interrupted, prepare well and go for a week.

My knees are a bit dodgy and I get more than enough long-haul with work commitments so option 1 doesn’t work for me. I’ve avoided option 2 as I either have too many colonies to think it’s reasonable to foist upon a beekeeping friend, or they’re so badly behaved I’m too embarrassed to ask∇. So option 3 is the only choice … which is why I didn’t post anything last week as I was enjoying the walking in the Serra de Tramuntana in Mallorca.

Benjamin Franklin was right

Bait hives ...

Bait hives …

By failing to prepare you are preparing to fail. Sneaking off for a week just as swarming period was kicking off, with the best weather of the season predicted to arrive and the OSR in full flower, might have been asking for trouble. However, a little time spent on preparation helped avert disaster. Bait hives were put out near the apiaries. Remaining overwintered nucs were unceremoniously dumped into a full hive. Any colonies looking even vaguely crowded were given lots of additional space and almost all were on double broods by the time I left. Every full colony was given one additional empty super. Where necessary, one or two frames stuffed with stores were removed and replaced with foundation or drawn comb. Finally, all colonies were checked for queen cells and other obvious signs of swarm preparation the day before I left.

Nine days later I returned … none of the bait hives had been occupied, none of the colonies had swarmed, almost all of the colonies were doing precisely what they should have been doing which was building up strongly and filling the supers. Two in the bee shed were doing particularly well, having almost filled several supers. Pretty much everything was under control with the exception of one queenless colony that, the day before my departure, had been given a frame of eggs and young larvae but had failed to make any decent queen cells.

During my absence the weather in Fife was excellent … in contrast, I walked into this lot in the Tramuntana …

Thunderstorm overlooking the Bay of Pollenca

Thunderstorm overlooking the Bay of Pollenca, Mallorca …

Despite not going on a beekeeping holiday, it’s still possible to see – and sample – some of the local beekeeping activities, as shown in the photos at the top of the page from Mallorca and Andalucia† taken in previous trips.

§ I wish

∇ Just in case you’re thinking of buying bees from me please note that this is a rather poor joke 😉

† As an aside … I’ve never seen an area with more hornets that this region of Southern Spain

Queen clipping – why?

I sometimes have colonies in my (very) small suburban garden … it’s great to be able to watch the bees before leaving for the lab or to observe them early in the season bringing in pollen from the crocuses. It’s also a convenient staging post between my out apiaries and a whole lot easier than carrying heavy boxes around through waist-high field margins. However, I’m aware that my neighbours may not share my enthusiasm for bees. I therefore do my utmost to only keep well-behaved colonies in the garden by selecting for docility as a priority when queen rearing. In addition, I make sure any queens heading colonies in the garden are clipped. Queen clipping is the trimming of one wing, preventing the queen from flying any distance should the colony swarm. In the absence of a queen, a prime swarm leaving the hive will either return to the hive or will cluster with the queen a very short distance from the hive.

Clipped queen ...

Clipped queen …

A colony in the garden swarmed on open queen cells (QC) last Sunday afternoon. The colony had chosen to ignore the super, so filled the brood box with nectar (I suspect I’d added the super too late and the colony had already started to think about swarming). Consequently the colony ran out of space. The QC’s were about 3-4 days old and unsealed. There’d been none present at the previous inspection (remember that colonies usually swarm once the first QC’s are sealed). The colony was half-way through a vertical split (to be described in the future) with the original queen in the top box and the newly emerged virgin in the bottom box. I’d been away and arrived home to find the top box swarming and the air filled with bees. With an unclipped queen they would usually settle in a nearby tree or bush and then send out scouts to find more desirable accommodation.

I might have been fortunate enough to catch this, but they might have settled somewhere inconvenient like the chimney or on the kids trampoline in the garden next door. However, because the queen was clipped, she couldn’t fly and the bees just milled about for 15 minutes … a fantastic sight and sound. Eventually they returned to the hive … but to the bottom box. Shortly after they’d settled I found the queen and a small retinue of workers on the ground about a metre from the hive entrance (see photo above). I quickly went through the top box, shaking bees off the frames and knocked off all the QC’s. I also swapped out a couple of nectar-filled frames for drawn comb. I then ran the queen back into the entrance. With luck the reduced density of bees and increased space to lay will discourage them from swarming again*.

A queen with a clipped wing generally swarms later than an unclipped queen, potentially giving you a few extra days between inspections. However, as the example above shows, you can’t rely on this so seven day intervals between inspections are still recommended. Had I not found the queen she would have probably crawled back to the hive stand, climbed up the leg and ended up under the open mesh floor. Although this is not ideal, it provides another opportunity to recapture her and it’s far preferable to losing the bees altogether or bothering your neighbours with swarms.

Summer storm ...

Summer storm …

Although the weather was wonderful when the colony swarmed, it rapidly changed later in the afternoon when we were treated to downpour of biblical proportions … any swarm caught out in the torrential rain and hail would have probably fared very badly.

Time to close the hive up ...

Time to close the hive up …

The image above (the densest cloud formed a wide band from the North East to the South West, almost directly above three of my apiaries) is a composite of three images stitched together in Photoshop. I was desperately trying to get through the last few hive inspections but had to abandon things and seek shelter in the car. The rain and hail didn’t last long, but what it lacked in duration it more than compensated for in volume (both sound and fluid ounces).

Perhaps surprisingly, in the 30 minutes or so before the heavens opened the bees were remarkably well behaved.

* Update on checking six days later (today) the blue marked and clipped queen is back and laying again in the top box. It looks like she’s been getting a lot of attention as the blue paint has almost disappeared. There are no signs of any more queen cells but they’re still not taking much notice of the super. Unfortunately, they are showing signs of robbing another colony in the garden, so I’ll shortly be moving them to another apiary.

In the meantime, I prepared a stack of boxes in preparation of moving house and – within 24 hours – another swarm moved in. I’d missed a finger-wide gap in the stack and the bees occupied a chest-high pile of broods and supers. These look like another generous donation from a neighbour … thank you.

Moving colonies #1

There’s something magical about being in the apiary late on a calm summer evening. I’ve been busy moving nucs from mating sites to local apiaries prior to moving them North. It’s been so warm that the bees have been flying late into the evening – until at least 9.30pm – so it’s not possible to close up the colonies until the majority of the stragglers return from the fields. By then the sun is down and a full moon is rising over the woods. The honey production colonies are busy humming away with the bees frantically fanning to evaporate excess water off the nectar prior to capping the cells. Near the hives the air is thick with the smell of blackberry or clover, and the syrupy smell of honeysuckle wafts from the hedgerows. Without a breath of wind it’s possible to hear every rustle in the undergrowth … if you wait long enough to stop breathing heavily from the physical exertion of hefting boxes around.

Late evening in the apiary

Late evening in the apiary

These moves are short distances so require no preparation of the colony other than a foam plug in the entrance and a secure strap. Long distance moves, where there’s a possibility of the colonies overheating, requires more preparation – with travel screens, good ventilation and, if the weather is particularly hot, making the trip overnight.