Save the Bees, Save the World

How to Start
Greg Carey

Forewarned is forearmed.

When I first started thinking of keeping bees, I did not know that “all the bees are dying.” I only remembered that several of my uncles had kept bees when I was a child and reminisced on those good old days, needing something to keep me busy in my retirement. My initial research yielded little until I happened upon the beekeeping magazines. From these I quickly learned that my new calling would result in my becoming a national hero since one out of every three bites Americans take is a direct result of the honey bee pollination and all of mankind would soon perish with the honey bees without my intervention. Nevertheless, I used the ads in those periodicals to order books for my library: The Beekeeper’s Handbook, The Hive and The Honey Bee, ABC&XYZ of Bee Culture, Keeping Bees, Honey Plants of North America, Beekeeping for Dummies, etc., etc. and read them all cover to cover. It seemed there was more to this hero stuff than just being bitten by a radioactive insect.

After three years of self-study, I knew I would need help. I found and contacted my local beekeepers’ association, the Association of Southern Maryland Beekeepers (ASMB) and signed up for their late Winter short course on beekeeping. Some of these national heroes had been in the battle for a lifetime. They knew beekeeping.

That Spring I purchased my first package of honey bees and installed them into a Langstroth style ten frame hive. I was told not to expect any honey that first year as the bees would use most of the nectar flow to draw out comb in the brood nest. I bought a shallow super anyway, and when they had mostly completed the comb for the brood, I installed the super with thin foundation and ended up harvesting about 20 pounds of cut comb. That’s how I saved the world.

Well, you know that is not true, but wouldn’t that be a short story with a happy ending. I had not saved the world any more than those grizzled old beekeepers who gave me a leg up. I have managed to keep fighting. My purpose here is to give you a leg up or keep you from becoming a casualty. If after you do some self-evaluation and determine that you have flat feet, do not enlist!

The truth is that first season those bees lit me up and kept the heat on relentlessly. I went out to visit them looking like an armored personnel carrier, coveralls with zippered veil, gloves above the elbows, duct tape around the cuffs and ankles with a lit smoker that would make the little train that thought it could envious. That night I would lie in the bed swollen and itching, whining to my wife that I had made the worst mistake of my life. I could hear my dear Ol’ Granny, “Honey, you got the hardest head of any young’un I ever seen.” She had 13 of her own, and I wasn’t about to make a liar out of her. I kept at it, never quit, never gave up. Besides, I was making progress. I had learned that in addition to genetics what makes bees defensive are movement, vibration and odor. My movements became slow and fluid and avoided being directly over the frame tops as much as possible. I started covering the frame tops with old bath towels, setting the top hive body to one side, inspecting the bottom first and then the top before placing it back on top. This reduced vibration, and the bees set to one side covered with the towel seemed to just keep on with their lives as though nothing was going on. I got rid of those gloves when I noticed that they would get stuck in the propolis under the frame ends causing me to be clumsy and accumulate stingers and alarm pheromone. Yes, the bees could sting me through those gloves. Removing that source of vibration and odor greatly reduced my need for smoke; a few gentle puffs at the entrance became sufficient.

The second year I got a wonderful surprise. When I got stung, it hurt the same as ever, but the surprise was that my body had adapted to the venom. I no longer swelled or itched to high heaven. Best of all I was seldom stung compared to what I had become accustomed.

I was also saddened that second year when I noticed that some of my classmates and others from the previous year were offering used equipment for sale. They had experienced what I had experienced, defensive bees intolerant of clumsy, smelly, nervous neophytes, sweating under the veil in 95-degree high humidity heat in mid-Summer. An officer in the association told me that the casualty rate was about 60 to 70 percent. Saving the world is not easy if you have flat feet.

While I mourned their loss, I searched the carnage for items that I could use to continue the fight. Most had stayed in the middle of the road using Langstroth style equipment as I had. These would heal and move on to fight in a different campaign. Others had succumbed to the hype and purchased equipment out of the mainstream that few had a need for and would linger in the recovery room for quite some time. You know the hype. Beekeeping is like being a fisherman and walking into the bait shop. There are more kinds of lures than can be counted, the majority designed to hook the fisher instead of the fish. Since I started small with equipment recommended and used by the old timers in the area, I was able to assist some of my fallen shipmates by giving them their asking price for the used equipment and grew my apiary from one colony to 17 colonies in two yards.

The growth didn’t happen overnight. I even transitioned from ten frame equipment to eight frame equipment with several five frame nucs as back up. That first queen’s progeny kept going for 12 years with plus ups from caught swarms. That’s how I saved the world.

Well, you know that is not true. I think it was about my fifth year that one of the colonies in the out yard became defensive. I am talking “killer bee movie” defensive. I looked for evidence of animal or human molestation and found none. The other colonies in the yard were kittens, patting me with their paws but never baring the claws. After several inspections with them boiling out the top as soon as the inner cover was removed and following me the 100+ yards back to the truck where I sat on the tailgate for 20+ minutes with them bouncing off my veil and stinging my ankles, slow learner that I am, I decided action was necessary. Changing the queen was the predominant recommendation, but that process takes about 60 days to deplete the old queen’s offspring from the yard. Those drones would be active during that time spreading their hatred for mankind to other colonies. A hard decision was made. I went home and came back with large, black, plastic bags. I placed each hive body into a bag and sealed it. I then placed the bags in the full afternoon sun of my backyard. Now, while you’re gasping and crying, “MURDERER,” I assure you that when I removed the bags the next day those bees were as calm as any I have ever saw. Strategic goals take priority. We can ill afford to alienate our allies (neighbors) in this battle to save the world. Think HOA’s and zoning.

I mentioned the twelfth year earlier. That was the Fall that every colony that I had perished. I had closed the out yard and had 13 colonies in my backyard in an effort to reduce my workload. This looks like a good spot to warn you that colonies are like chickens. No one keeps just one. Most recommend starting with two, and then they tell you that you should keep nucs as cushion. My original plan was to have three hives between some fruit trees. The fruit yield exploded, by the way. That grew to an out yard and “shrank” to 13 colonies which all died in one season. I am now back up to nine colonies in eight frame, five frame, one Long Lang and an observation hive in the family room.

Will my efforts ever save the world? To be honest, that’s just hype. There were no honey bees in America before the Pilgrims brought them. The Native Americans were getting on just fine. Of course, there weren’t many vegans, and they could not go to the market 24/7 and get fresh fruit and vegetables on a whim. Most species managed by us seem to thrive under that management. The bald eagle and white tail deer are good examples. Managed honey bee populations are increasing.

So back to the title. How to start? Some overlap is tolerated. Start by studying the subject. Sample the beekeeping magazines and subscribe to the ones which provide you with the most useful information, like Bee Culture. Join your nearest beekeepers’ association. It’s the best money you will spend. Listen to them. Take their course or one at the local university if they do not offer one. Check your home owners’ agreement and zoning regulations. You may need to think outyard here. Do not fall for the gadgets. Look to those commercial guys who feed their families and meet a payroll with their practices. Imitate them to start and then move on to your beekeeping dream after you are comfortable with the conventional methods. Practice good beekeeping habits. Understand that anyone who purchases 15,000 bugs that sting and places them in their yard will be stung. You will be stung! Beekeeping is more than just bugs in a box. Beekeeping is a passion, a fascinating hobby that can pay for itself or grow into a career, OR it can be the worst mistake you ever make. The question: Do you want to SAVE THE WORLD?