A good friend of mine called me the other day from the parking structure of her place of work. She was very excited about this massive swarm of bees that was gathering on the back of a Ford Explorer, and she wanted to know if I could come out and pick them up.

     I was surprised to hear about a swarm occurring this late in the year, since, even though it isn’t unheard of, it is rather late for colonies to be throwing any more swarms. There really isn’t enough time for a new swarm to collect enough nectar to last thru the approaching winter, and there is even a classic beekeeping poem that illustrates this quite well.

A swarm in May
Is worth a horse and some hay
A swarm in June
Is worth a silver spoon
A swarm in July
Isn’t worth a fly

      
I wondered what the next line to the poem should be.  I took a try as I listened to my friend talk about this swarm.

A swarm in August?

I haven’t the foggiest…

     Still, I have nursed late startup colonies thru the winter by providing syrup for them, and I told my friend I was going to gather my equipment while she spoke to the building manager to arrange a proper call out to me. I also informed her that there must be a colony relatively close to this swarm gathering on the vehicle, and to keep a lookout. Ten minutes later, my friend called me back and informed me that there was, indeed, a rather large colony that had set up shop inside a wall on the property.

     I also learned that this hive was sprayed with pesticide on Saturday.

     My heart sank. This wasn’t a proper swarm after all, but a desperate escape attempt from a large colony that had been poisoned and knew that their home was now toxic. I had seen this behavior before, and have hived these swarms only to watch them succumb over the course of two to three days, as the poison slowly knocks them down. I was also furious, because such a thing isn’t necessary and can easily be prevented. While I am solely dedicated to removing bees alive, I am also a realist and understand that sometimes, bees can get themselves in places that simply cannot be broken apart in order to facilitate a live removal. Extermination, sadly, can be the only responsible action, but what had occurred was a travesty similar in nature and scope to a hunter who doesn’t practice his shot before going out for a hunt and ends up wounding the animal in the leg as opposed to hitting in the proper kill area.  Prolonged suffering is immoral and unethical in my view, and the more I learned about the situation, the more frustrated I became.

      Apparently, the company had called out exterminators to knock down colonies in this same location repeatedly. In fact, they had been out three times in the past two weeks. Something is very wrong with this picture. There are compounds that knock down the bees very, very quickly, and placement of this chemical is key to success. She also informed me that the same thing happened in the same place last year. The exterminator obviously didn’t inform the business owner as to how to properly seal the point of entrance to prevent the bees from coming back, nor was there any attempt made to remove the comb which provided a fully furnished apartment for any exploring swarms. It takes roughly seven pounds of honey to produce one pound of comb, so swarms are all too happy to move in to an old home already made and ready.

    It was a classic case of error upon error, and I asked my friend to give the company all my contact info, and I will be awaiting their call. I would appreciate the chance to at least give them a consultation to prevent such a thing from ever happening again. Let me be clear: if you do hire an exterminator to kill bees in your home or business, and they are back in the same location, you have been ripped off. This should never, ever happen. Steps were not taken to properly remove the comb that will attract another swarm, and/or the point of entrance was not sealed. Remember, all it takes is an opening 3/8th of an inch in a wall or a roof for a swarm to set up their new home. Even if it is impossible to remove the comb due to its location in a structure, everything should be done to ensure that nothing is able to gain access to it from the outside.

     It is my opinion that live bee removal should always be considered for any honeybee infestation, but I understand that there are a myriad of situations that may make this option impossible. I won’t deal with pesticides, but a reputable exterminator will utilize them like a skilled marksman and put the bees down quickly and mercifully, while doing what needs to be done to ensure the bees never come back to that same area. If at all possible, the comb should be removed as well. Untended honey comb has been known to create nightmares of its own as it drips or falls off the comb and soaks thru walls or ceilings, attracting rats, mice, ants and all other kinds of undesirables. 

    Hopefully, my friend’s employer will do what needs to be done to ensure that their bee issues are a thing of the past.

London isn’t the only place that has been subjected to looting and pillaging lately.  It’s going on right here in California as well, and a form of scarcity is to blame.  

     In any apiary in Southern California, leaving exposed honey comb available to the outside world at this time of year comes with a price; hundreds, possibly thousands of hungry foragers zooming in on your location, desperate for anything they can get.  After breaking open the lid to a hive and scraping some comb off one of the frames, some nectar got on my hive tool. I set it down on the hive next to the one I was working on, and in the 10 seconds it took for me to look back to it, I found it literally covered with bees.

    I thought that maybe the bees had finally wizened up and knew that I couldn’t open their hives without my hive tool. Perhaps they were all going to flap their wings at the same time and take off with it, dropping it into a big tree somewhere a mile down the road.

     But no, they were just acutely aware that there was nothing in blossom for a five mile radius, and desperate times call for desperate measures. If they can’t find nectar in flowers, they have no problem taking honey from their neighbors if they get the chance. Beekeepers call this “robbing”, and it is exactly like it sounds. The colonies shift their general isolationist policies into opportunistic looting and pillaging, and will suddenly bully weaker hives if they sense they are able to get past their defenses and get at the honey.

   This accumulates into a chain reaction, which multiplies in intensity with relation to how many hives are in a given apiary. In my case, I had ten in this particular apiary, and even though I worked quickly and kept a wet rag to wipe away any honey that came exposed, it wasn’t long until all the hives were engaged in battle. Foragers from each hive were busy trying to rob another, and each hive was desperately trying to protect their hard earned bounty from intruders.

    As one can imagine, this dampens the mood of even the most well behaved hive, and I found myself squarely in the crossfire. The bees seemed to say “HEY! Get him too!  Yeah, the really big white bee with the stupid hat. He’s most DEFINITELY a robber!”  Smoke only went so far, and I just did what was absolutely necessary with the bees and got myself out of there.

    Robber bees are not delicate in their approach either. They subscribe to the method of “smash and grab”, completely ripping away the cappings on honeycomb, leaving behind a scraggly mess in their wake as they take off with a stomach full of honey. Normally, each cell is opened with utmost care to its craftsmanship, but the robbers couldn’t care less. It’s not their home, after all. So beekeepers always know what is going on if they come to a colony with bits of wax cappings on the porch of the hive, and, perhaps, several dozen dead bees on the ground from bee to bee combat.

    So, it isn’t just humans that have the capability of being savages when times are tough. Bees are just as capable.  

      What can be exciting and thrilling is often times the same thing that is unpredictable and infinitely variable. In essence, that is beekeeping.  The joy of working with these insects is often rooted in a sense of surprise and wonderment.  Very little can be taken for granted, and they don’t read the books. They don’t know how they are supposed to behave at any given time or truly understand the rate of productivity they are expected to achieve by renowned scientists.  Quick case in point; I was told not to expect any honey harvest the first year of hiving a colony, since it takes so much energy for the colony to draw out the foundation into comb that will store honey.  My first hive never got the memo:  it produced more than 80 pounds of honey in a season, despite being told by everyone it couldn’t. I was scrambling to make enough boxes for that one colony.

      But there is also the dark side to this, especially when it comes to removing feral colonies from inside structures or high above in trees.  I have determined it is impossible to ascertain the extent of any colony until the material blocking its view is removed and the entire hive is exposed.  After analyzing data gathered from ambient heat readings, entrance activity, probes inserted to determine presence of comb, and, as always, an acute knowledge of how the books say the bees should build comb in a given situation, I have proceeded with a job only to discover just how much the bees refuse to comply with human logic.

  And then there is a chance this could happen:  http://www.ktla.com/news/landing/ktxl-bees-swarm-fair-oaks-neighborhood-tv-reporter-attacked-20110729,0,4290267.story

   Admittedly, the above is a constant nightmare I have, and I lose a lot of sleep from anticipating its possibility.  One of the first things I do when I assess a bee removal job is to determine the colony’s demeanor and temperament. I ask the customer questions concerning if anyone has been stung, and if so, how many times and how far away was the person from the hive.   Then, after I take the time to determine that there isn’t anyone within eyesight of the colony, I tap around the entrance in order to see if there is any reaction.  Still, tapping on a wall is decidedly different than taking a damn air chisel to it in order to break way the stucco and one never knows just how they may respond.  And no one is a bee charmer. Once an Africanized colony has decided to wage an all-out war, nothing can be done to calm them down.  What then transpires belongs in a Stephen King novel:  my colleagues have described horses next door to their job site getting stung to death, the bees cloaking their veils in such numbers and ferocity that they struggled to breathe. I have seen bees chase birds out of the sky, send dogs and cats sprinting and yelping away, attack my gloved hand with such timed precision and accuracy that there wasn’t a square centimeter in the leather that didn’t have a stinger protruding from it; all in a matter of seconds.

    No amount of smoke will make a difference at this point. The only thing that can be done is to walk away, just as the beekeeper in the news story did, and make sure everyone in the vicinity knows to keep their distance as well. Only time, sometimes as long as two days, will calm them down.

      Colonies like this are unmanageable, and extremely dangerous. It pains me to see any colony exterminated, but extremely defensive colonies must be put down in order to maintain public safety. I anticipate that is what the beekeeper in the story will do.  Since I do not deal with pesticides, I would turn the job over to a licensed exterminator.   The whole process of this is extremely stressful, dangerous, and horrifying, and I would not wish the experience on anybody.

     All of this is why I take my time in assessing a colony, and I sometimes have to stress patience from the customer who wants the hive out yesterday despite its continued presence for months or even years. Maintaining safety is absolutely paramount and is my number one priority, and no one, besides yours truly, has yet to be stung from a job of mine. I am humble enough, however, to understand it could happen at any time.

    Variables upon variables: this is beekeeping and why it is so fun, interesting, and addicting. But not all those variables are good ones, and it is always advisable to never take a colony’s demeanor for granted. Honeybees, regardless of how docile they may be, are still wild animals.  Disrespect them at your own risk.