BoroughBees

Million Flower Honey Company

2012-12-14T16:45:00.001-05:00

If you need some high quality raw honey, head out to Fountain Studios at 604 Grand St in Brooklyn on Saturday and Sunday.

I might not be there, but I'll have some honey from my little honey-sale side project, Million Flower Honey Company, available.

All the honeys I sell are from treatment-free hives, harvested ethically, and completely raw.

Also, they're delicious.

I'm sold out of my batches from Ethiopia and Fort Greene, but I still have quite a bit of honey from my friend Sam Comfort, proprietor of AnarchyApiaries.org. He makes some damn fine honey that you should definitely add to your collection!

Sam Comfort making some queens.

Fountain Holiday Craft Sale

A Holiday Market. Filled with goods. For gifts & more.
Sat & Sun December 15 & 16
12-6pm

Vendors:

Ben Duchac
www.benduchac.com
Caitlin Gleason
Hand Knit accessories
Campbell Raw Press
www.brooklynbookbinder.com
Carda Burke
www.cardaburke.com
Claire Boockmeier
wolfechild.blogspot.com
Farai Simoyi
www.faraisimoyi.com
Handsome Miss Mock
www.missmock.com
Hibiscus
www.hibiscusflowershop.com
Ian Hall
www.dontnotlook.com
Kaelyn Garcia
www.kaelyngarcia.com
Kellyn Leveton
www.sweetpotatopepper.com
Matt Shaw
compoundshaw.tumblr.com
Mer
www.mercollection.com
Rocket Dove
www.etsy.com/shop/rocketdove
Roots in Rust
www.rootsinrust.com
South Fifth
www.etsy.com/shop/SFifth?ref=pr_shop_mor
Troy Hagenbart
www.fountainstudiosny.com/section/117556

National Museum of Ethiopia, May 20th

2012-11-02T23:56:00.000-04:00

After the late night at Fendika drinking honey wine (tej) and listing to Ethiopian beatniks, I crashed hard at the hotel after enjoying (yet another) hot shower. Drinking is hard work, you know, and it was hot in the club, surrounded by drinking, dancing, and flowing creativity.

The next morning, I woke up and, after taking another shower, called up my friends Addis and Azeb, whom who I had met the night before after being e-introduced by Bob Holman of Bowery Poetry Club fame. He had been in Addis a few months prior and made some good friends at Fendika, so when he heard I was in town he connected us immediately.

Morning tea, my favourite tradition of the stay.

I had a serious day of museuming planned, so a little bit of morning tea was in order. After a light breakfast of porridge, cream, and jam, the spiced shai hit the spot and completed my Ethiopian morning routine. We walked to the museum to be greeted by a large cannon, and a larger mosaic.

Cannons, the anthesis of preservation! Better put one in front of the museum!

Museums in Ethiopia are different than those in America or Europe. Unlike our massive museums which tend to offer wide surveys of a subject, many of the museums in Addis are smaller, subject specific, and somewhat shady. I suspect that most tourists who come here don't do it for the museums. Many of the display lights were misdirected, broken, or dirty. It was a shame, considering the quality of some of the pieces.

The National Museum contains artifacts from the many cultures of Ethiopia's past, both ancient and modern. As might be expected, fertility and virility symbols played a large part. Seems to be a common theme, huh?

Venus, rising.

She seemed unusually similar to the Venus of Willendorf in both aesthetics and execution. The similarities between the traditional art of cultures is a constant source of amazement for me.

This throne is even funnier when you consider that Haile Selassies head barely cleared the cushions.
Dude was the size of a child.

The layout of the museum was a bit odd; Haile Selassie's throne is in the room next to the ancient Abyssinian sculptures and is divided from the rest of the museum by a case of European rifles on one hand and imperial hats and crowns on the other.

Ancient bronze oil lamp...

...which featured a hunting dog catching an ibex.

Menelik II's hat.

And his crown.

Haile Selassie's crown. Clearly made with an eye towards subtlety.

As soon as you go downstairs, you run into a bunch of signs for Lucy. This is the one part of the museum that seems to have any thought put into it. The signage is clear, the specimens are well lit, and there were even interactive touchscreen kiosks. It was almost like being in a museum back home, except it was only a single room.

Hello there.

Cousin! It's been so long!

Upstairs is a gallery of modern and contemporary Ethiopian Art. Their sensibilities are a little different, but some of the craftsmanship was beautiful.

Lion of Judah, the national symbol of sovereignty.

Cat eyes.

On my way out, I ran into some ancient stone and clay sculptures that I had missed on my way through the first time. They were poorly lit and hidden in a dusty corner, but I am glad I found them as they turned out to be some of my favourite specimens in the entire collection. I wish I could have taken them home with me, but alas, there was no gift-shop. Apparently the Disney model has not reached Addis Ababa yet.

"Eeeeeyyyyy..."

"Aaaaaaaahhhhh..."

"Oooooohhhhhh..."

On my way back to the car, I passed by an outdoors archaeology exhibit. Unfortunately, it was trashed. Quite literally.

Pride of a nation.

It troubled me that a nation and people so connected and proud of their history could treat their own museums with such disrespect. When I asked my driver why there was litter in the museum, he told me that everyone did it.

On his way back from the museum, he threw his empty coffee cup out the window.

Welp....

2012-11-01T01:04:00.000-04:00

I hate to start the blog back up with bad news, but I guess that is just the way things are going to work.

As many of you have heard, 17 hives from the Brooklyn Grange Beekeeping Apprenticeship, which I co-founded with Chase Emmons and the financial/logistical backing of the Brooklyn Grange, were destroyed Monday night/Tuesday morning by Sandy's 14 foot storm surge.

While the hives survived the first high tide, they were not so lucky the second time, and most, if not all, were swept away by the rising water. While some of the woodenware was recovered and may be salvageable, essentially all the comb was contaminated/ruined and the bees were drowned.

Drowned brood. The bees probably drowned trying to protect it, but were swept away when the hive broke apart.

scha·den·freu·de - noun, \ˈshä-dən-ˌfrȯi-də\:
enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others
see: yellow-jackets

Drowned bees just don't have the same charm as the living ones.

A survivor.

Trying to keep warm and protect the hive to the very end.

All my favourite hives were swept away. If anyone finds a very nicely built top-bar hive, or a piece of wood with a Shaolin-style Winnie-the-Pooh, please drop me a line.

On a higher note, the hives my girlfriend and I maintain in Fort Greene seem to have survived with nary a scratch. The survivor I found at the Navy Yard came with me into the car where I warmed her up and fed her some fresh honey that hadn't been contaminated with polluted salt water. When I was checking on the hives that survived, I popped her right in. With a full belly of honey, she'll be welcomed into the hive, and maybe even be of some use.

Zom-bee?

Verizon product placement. Ignore the last one. That's Sprint.

So where do we go from here?

I don't know, or at least I'm not sure yet.

A lot of time, a lot of work, and a lot of love went into maintaing those hives over the last several months, both on my part and those of my amazing beekeeping apprentices. They grew in experience and knowledge just as the hives grew in population and production; watching them do so was a humbling experience for me. Seeing their hard work washed away overnight is incredibly sad and incredibly frustrating.

There were as many bees in those hives as there are people in Staten Island; almost half a million (down from an estimated 1 million in the summer, when hive populations are larger.) Obviously bees as individuals have nowhere near the intrinsic value of even the meanest human (debatable?), but the loss of so much life (and potential for life) so senselessly is a horridly heavy burden and I cannot help but wonder if it might have been avoided.

P.S. I posted the video to the Apprenticeship page on Facebook already, but it still makes me laugh.

Apropos, no?

Brooklyn Grange Beekeeping Apprenticeship: Weeks 4,5,6

2012-06-03T10:45:00.000-04:00

The arrival of May saw a return to the Brooklyn Navy Yards and our fledgling hives. Our sojourn in Queens has proved to be good experience, though. The Brooklyn Grange’s overwintered hives were incredibly healthy, allowing us to observe proper laying patterns and to learn how to distinguish between brood and honey cells. At the Navy Yards, the package hives are still quite small and on a whole weaker than what we’ve become used to dealing with. However, now that we know how to look and what to look for, the process is much easier.

c2012, Slavalava Wisey

That said, the bees are still quite mysterious to me. We installed four nearly identical packages our first day (and two more have been added since), but what has made some hives strong and others not seems completely random. We’ve tried a variety of measures to improve our weaker hives, including adding queens and combining colonies where a queen was missing in order to bolster the number of workers.

Coming back to the hives this weekend, it appears that these measures have led to some improvements. Population numbers seem to be up. Several hives have already been given a second super to fill with brood and honey. While there are still some struggling queens, it appears that the hives can at least take care of themselves, producing queen cups in order to raise their very own queen.

As for us apprentices, we’re learning to take care of ourselves too. For hive checks this week we split into teams of two and three to take apart the hives independently. That’s not to say we don’t still have room for improvement. There’s definitely a finesse to the hive check that only time and practice can bring, but that’s the point of this apprenticeship, no? Till then, we’ll have to remember to pull the frames out a bit slower, making sure the queen isn’t dislodged and discarded in the process (don’t think this actually happened, but it is a situation our current technique could create).

c2012, Slavalava Wisey

Finally, we paid a brief visit out to the hives still living on the pier. They seem to have calmed down after a few weeks in a stable location. We opened up one super and found them overflowing out of their frames, filling all extra space with comb. After going through a handful of frames, we carefully packed them away. These bees are much more protective of their hive and therefore aggressive. Changing out the wooden ware and moving them over to the roofs is an adventure we have to look forward to.

c2012, Slavalava Wisey

Return to Addis, May 19th

2012-05-22T18:07:00.000-04:00

Morning in Nekemte, the sound of morning prayers from the local Ethiopian Orthodox Church filling the air.

200 km of dirt, 100 km of road.

We stopped for roasted maize from the same family as before.

I took pictures this time.

There were also goats.

And the corn was tasty.

Morning shai.

And good morning to you too.

Mangoes, 3 cents each.

Into the valley.

Fresh eggs, 11 cents each.

Buying the eggs.

Basalt.

Rain.

Greenhouses for the flowers that give Addis Ababa (New Flower) its name.

Hills and pastures.

Cows and horses.

Leaving Desalegn at his home.

With an awesome view of Addis.

Dinner. Brain Delight, Lamb brain sauteed in a spicy tomato sauce with beans on a bed of couscous.

+ Italian style cheesecake.

+ Saffron ice cream. + Roast veal (for my driver) + Middle Eastern mezze platter = $28.
Quite literally one of the most expensive restaurants in Addis.

A recommendation from Bob Holman of the Bowery Poetry Club. The Ethiopian equivalent of a poetry and music house. Not a black beret in sight, but an abundance of good music, improvised songs, and tej, or honey wine.
A late night.

Graduation Day, May 18th

2012-05-22T18:03:00.002-04:00

We began the final morning of training with a lecture on common bee diseases, parasites, and how to treat them. The most common issues are easily remedied. Nosema is the greatest threat and can easily be treated by the introduction of screened bottom boards and top vents to facilitate the removal of the warm moist air which encourages the development of this disease. In the US, where these screened bottom boards are in common use, Nosema is a weakening disease, one which hurts our honey harvest and the mood of our bees. In Ethiopia, where many beekeepers have never heard of a screened bottom board, the disease can very often be fatal to the commonly found small traditional hives.

These screened bottom boards are also useful for ameliorating the symptoms of chalkbrood, which is caused by a fungus which thrives in overly damp hives, and varroa mite infestation.

Oh, varroa, what a can of worms you are! There are many opinions regarding the impact of the varroa mite in Africa, where it was first introduced in 1997 (South Africa). Research, such as this note produced by the Penn State Department of Entomology, indicates that the varroa mite can be found throughout Africa, and was specifically found to infest approximately %87 of the hives tested. The bloodsuckers (well, haemolymph-suckers, but who wants to be THAT technical) are here to stay, and everyone wants to know what is going to happen next.

And the answer is:

We are not sure.

Most studies have shown that African bees, regardless of breed or race, tend to be highly resistant to varroa destructor. Why this is so is the subject of most debate. Some people feel that it is because with their quick swarming behavior and small hive size breaks the brood cycle so often that varroa cannot get a decent foothold. Others believe that their resistance is due to their highly aggressive hygienic behavior; quickly ripping out and destroying any brood with a mother mite under the capping. A final theory holds that because the African worker bee matures as many as 2 days earlier than its American or European counterpart due to the minuscule cell size, the mites do not have time (or room) to reproduce efficiently in the worker comb. This forces most of the population onto the developing drones, as in their original host, Apis cerana, the Asiatic or Eastern honey bee.

Most likely, it is a combination of all three, but regardless of the reason, the result is the same. In Africa, the varroa mite has been reduced to an incidental parasite. This has huge implications for beekeeping back in the States, and in the rest of the world. How can we bring this resistance to our bees?

Obviously, we do not want to breed our bees to swarm quickly and keep small colonies. That would destroy our wonderfully large honey crops. We don't want to make them too aggressive either, although the development and distribution of hygienic lines such as the VSH carniolans and the Minnesota Hygienic italians have made huge strides in natural varroa tolerance/resistance. Still, these lines cannot compare to the natural hygienic tendencies commonly found in African hives, where up to 95% of dead or diseased brood is removed within 24 hours. These bees have developed hygienic behavior without complicated breeding programs or investment by individual beekeepers or large organizations. They have also developed highly defensive characteristics, and have been known to sting animals to death. Many believe that aggressive hygienic behavior and defensiveness are closely linked in these bees. It seems to be hard to have one without the other in Africa. Obviously crossing African and European/American bees is not the answer; the bees commonly known as "Africanized" may be hygienic, but they send the media into apoplexy.

This leaves us with the final (and most controversial!) theory: small cell regression. Many American beekeepers (including myself) have found that by forcing (or encouraging) our bees to build smaller and smaller worker comb, producing smaller and smaller workers. The research regarding the effectiveness of this practice has been mixed. Some research has concluded that it might help, while other papers have stated that the mite population is not reduced at all. That said, there is only a small (but bitter) minority of beekeepers who believe that the practice does any harm. Many beekeepers (including myself!) who give it a try, find that they can forgo any varroa treatment whatsoever, relying on the naturally hygienic behavior of the bees and the quicker maturation time of the worker brood to control the mite population. This practice does not seem to eliminate mites from the hive, even though it has reduced the varroa population to manageable levels. If you do a mite count of my hives in the summer you will find mites, but you will find very few (if any) sick, dwarfed, or k-winged workers. If you do a mite count in the late fall, you will find almost no mites.

Why could this be? I believe it is because the combination of quicker maturation time of the small cell workers encourages the mites to focus on developing drone brood, which takes much longer to develop in much roomier cells. When the drones are kicked out in the fall dearth, most of the breeding mite population is culled as well. I left my varroa card in under the screened bottom board of two of my small cell hives for a couple months starting in early February when the bees were first starting to stir. In a month and a half, I collected maybe 30-40 mites. For the record, that's over the entire card. Not so bad, considering I've never treated them for varroa. It seems to work in America, as well as in Africa, and I struggle to see the downside of giving it a try.

*ahem*

Back to Africa.

After my lecture, Desalegn started giving away some of the equipment and books donated by the Walter T. Kelley Company and Maxant Industries. In Nekemte, we shared a set of protective gear from Kelley, several beekeeping books and hive tools (also from Kelley), and a couple of Maxant-style hive tools from (duh) Maxant! I also shared a bunch of paint filters I had purchased before I left. They're great for filtering both honey and wax, and can be reused indefinitely. Local beekeepers can use them to process high quality honey without having to invest in expensive equipment. The people here seem to love a game of chance, and there were no hard feelings from the people who did not win the best prizes, and cheering for those who did.

Lottery in progress, hive tools in hand.

The luckiest winner. Beekeeping Principles, leather gloves, and a new veil, all from Kelley.

Hive tool from Kelley, and filters from me.

Hive tool from Maxant, and filter from me.

Hive tool and copy of 'How to Keep Bees and Sell Honey' from Kelley, filter from me.

Maxant hive tool and a fresh new filter!

'How to Keep Bees & Sell Honey' from Kelley and another filter! Glad I brought a lot!

Once we had distributed the goodies, we presented each of the 42 trainees with a certificate indicating their new education and deeming them "Trainers of Trainers". The goal of this program is to spread the knowledge of modern apiculture techniques throughout the country, and it is my hope that the information I shared will be of use both immediately and in the future.

The first graduate!

This dude asked a lot of good questions through the translator. I liked him.

Graduation was followed by the reading of a poem written by one of the government Ministry of Agriculture employees who attended the training. It was about the art, love, and tradition of beekeeping in Ethiopia and was well received by the audience. After some closing remarks and thanks from myself and Desalegn, we parted ways.

Bees, the poem. I really wish I had a translation.

On the way out of the conference hall, I discovered a feral hive in the eaves of the hotel. When I got closer to investigate, one of the workers immediately came out and stung me on the forehead. ZAP! My first direct hit in Africa! Awesome!

Free bees!

They did not appreciate my intrusion.

I kept the dying worker in my hand, and over a lunch of tibs, berbere and injera, I measured it against a dime that I had in my bag. As you can see, the bees here are significantly smaller than the ones we keep Stateside, even most of the small cell ones. They're fast too! I dream of bees like these, but not of them stinging me.

Tibs, berbere, and injera. Nom, nom nom.

Itty bitty bee! She is average sized for the local population, from what I have seen.

After lunch, I departed for the market to buy some honey, coffee beans (buna) and etan, or frankincense, all produced locally. I found many interesting products in the stores, but I found what I was looking for soon enough.

O Captain! my Captain! our oatmeal now is done;
The pot has weathered every stove, the food we sought is won;
The bowl is near, the spoons I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the bowl of cream, the sugar brown and sharing:

I love the smell of Ostrich in the morning!

Authentic Wazeline! Only the finest hair tonic for me!

Yes, YES, YES!

Of all the things to put in my hair, garlic and placenta are at the top of the list.

The face of a trustworthy man.

In the back of one small shop was a large plastic trash can full of crystallized white spring honey. I purchased a small water jug to transport it in and the proprietor measured out 3.5 kilos in the back room while I took pictures. I also bought a kilogram of fresh unroasted local coffee beans for approximately $4. Hmmm....

Measuring out the honey, trying to leave the bee heads behind.

Next door, I got a kilogram of the local frankincense for another 4 dollars. We tried some of it in the shop and it is fine stuff.

Fresh local frankincense. There are over 30 different kinds!

She wanted some too, so I shared.

A frankincense in the hand is worth two in the tree?

Following my orgy of shopping, we headed to Ebisa's house one last time for a late lunch or early dinner of roast potatoes in berbere, homemade yogurt, and injera. We had a dessert of roasted and spiced barley seeds and some of the fresh honey we had harvested together earlier in the week. I pulled out a small, white piece of comb full of honey that tasted remarkably like fresh maple syrup. I've never tasted honey like it. Coffee was served at the same time, and I treated myself to a small cup of the REALLY good stuff.

Food!

Barley!

Buna!

Small children! And Desalegn!

Maple syrup honey? Or a stroke.

Bellies full and taste buds happy, we departed for the last time to spend a final night in the hotel before we headed back to Addis Ababa.

Goodbye, for now.

Nekemte Training (w/o Power), May 17th

2012-05-22T11:20:00.001-04:00

The thunderstorms woke me in the night and knocked out the power for much of the town, including the hotels where I have been staying and running the training sessions. It is hard to share a presentation when there is no power for the projector, so I got creative.

I split the group of 40 something rural farmers, beekeepers and Ministry of Agriculture experts into four groups with a mandate to discuss and determine the four greatest impediments to implementing modern beekeeping techniques and equipment in Ethiopia. I also asked them to brainstorm solutions to the problems, even if they were not entirely practical, and to think of at least one question regarding honeybee biology or modern beekeeping techniques. After an hour, they were to present their findings to the entire group.

The hall was quiet as the groups labored until morning tea.

Tea time is an orderly time.

Afterwards, we got down to business and all four groups presented their findings. Many of the problems were shared by all the groups. The availability and high cost of modern, moveable frame hives was always at the top of the list. Without the infrastructure of manufacturers, roads, truckers, and resellers that we are fortunate enough to have in America, it is difficult or impossible to obtain the woodenware without governmental assistance. It is estimated that well under 2% of Ethiopian hives are kept in these modern style hives.

Group 1: In English!

The solution is top-bar hives, commonly referred to as ‘transitional’ hives. With their moveable combs and resource friendly design, they are growing in popularity in both Ethiopia and abroad. They can be manufactured using local materials with very little cut lumber, which is the common limiting factor in rural areas. Many of the groups hit on this solution and we talked some more about how these hives can perform many of the same functions as ‘modern’ framed hives which cost many times more.

Group 2: Half in English!

There were also many questions about what do to about deforestation and loss of forage for the bees. Ethiopia is rapidly growing in population and the population demands more and more food. With this growth, comes the growth of agriculture and the loss of the trees that many hives need to survive. There is no simple solution to this problem, other than more efficient use of land, but we came to the conclusion that planting nectar producing plants in areas that were poor for agriculture would help improve the situation.

Group 3: A quarter in English!

The questions about deforestation and the rise of commercial agriculture also brought up issues with the increasing use of pesticides. Many beekeepers have lost their hives due to the overzealous application of these chemicals by local farmers, and as of yet, there is absolutely no regulation regarding their use (or misuse.) I suggested that if local farmers and beekeepers formed cooperatives, they could share information about when pesticides were going to be sprayed so that the beekeepers could seal or move their hives. It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement; the bees live, and the farmers get the pollination they need to get good yields.

Group 4: Only a little English

The final most common question was how to get bees that are as gentle as the ones in the US. This I answered as honestly as possible. The bees here have been bred for thousands of years to grow, swarm, and produce small hives quickly. These small hives would be harvested from and killed regularly by traditional beekeepers. This has made the bees small, fast, and highly defensive of the resources they have. Our bees, on the other hand, have been bred to swarm rarely, produce huge populations, and to make honey far in excess of their own needs. This has resulted in bees that are calm, gentle, and not overly aggressive.

Taking notes on queen breeding.

Breeding bees like these in Africa will take many years, and the switch to larger transitional and modern hives to increase populations and honey yields. By constantly breeding and splitting from their most gentle hives and by harvesting honey without tearing apart the hive, eventually bees which are less defensive will be produced. There aren’t any shortcuts; we’ve seen what the European/African hybrid commonly known as ‘Africanized’ bees can do. It will take a long time and care will have to be taken not to lose the vitality and strength of these awesome bees.

This brought us to a discussion of queen breeding techniques. In the afternoon, I gave a talk on breeding small numbers of queens by making walk-away splits. I also spoke about harvesting and processing ripe, high quality honey from a moveable frame hive, and leaving the unripe honey and brood for the bees to finish. By doing this, the hive is always left with some stores and the harvested honey is less likely to ferment.

The day was finished by a representative from the Ministry of Agriculture giving a talk on large scale queen breeding using grafting techniques.

Nekemte Honey Harvest, May 16

2012-05-18T13:56:00.000-04:00

While I was looking at Ebisa’s hives, I asked him if it would be possible to see them during the day so that I could take good pictures to share. He said that opening them in the day would make them very mad, and that they should be left alone. When I told him that I had gloves and veils for him to borrow, he relented and said that we could check the bees during the day, but only in the very early morning, when it was still cold and the sun was very low.

The next morning, I woke up at 6 and we drove to Ebisa’s house carrying my suit, smoker, gloves, and a donated veil and pair of gloves for him to use.

We began by lighting a smoker with coals and dry cow dung to make a heavy white smoke and suiting up. I helped Ebisa into his veil, as he had not used one like it before. Over it, he put his coat, zipping and buttoning it up as far as possible to seal it tight against the veil. He tied the cuffs of his pants and the bottom of his coat with strips of cloth, and I helped him put on his gloves and get them all the way up his arms.

Once he was in his suit, I jumped into mine and we walked over to one of his bee trees carrying a ladder. Setting it against the tree, he climbed up and passed down one of the hanging hives into my waiting arms. He moved quickly, but gently, so while he passed down the hive, only a few bees flew out to investigate. Once he climbed down and we put some smoke in the entrance, everything changed.

Bees in a tree; a sticky situation.
It works on so many levels.

Instantly, the hive started roaring. Magnified by the shape of the hive, it was loud enough to hear 10 feet away. He told me it was ready to open, so I pulled away the entrance as he loosened the wire that held it in place. The sound multiplied, and we set the hive on its end so that we could see inside. Fresh white comb, a sure sign that nectar was coming in, and enough honey to harvest!

The hive magnifies the sound of the bees.

It was only half full, but it was hugely loud.

Ebisa put his arm into the hive and started pulling out combs of honey, and some brood by accident. Normally, he does this without gloves. I can’t imagine how often he gets stung, even at night.

The bees did not like this.

Brood comb is often harvested along with the honey by accident. It is unavoidable in the traditional style hives where you can't see the combs until you have torn them out.
As an aside, look how regular and straight the comb is. It looks like it was built on foundation.

The honeycomb was tossed into a bucket and when it was full, we closed up the hive and carried it back to the tree to return to its regular home. From there, we moved to his bee shelter to take a look at one of his modern Zander-style hives. After smoking the entrance and waiting a minute, we pried off the top with our hive tools. These hives have no inner covers, so opening them immediately exposes the top bars of all the frames and sends up clouds of bees. They immediately started bouncing off our veils, trying to scare us away. It almost worked. We pulled out several frames to look at them and found good brood and fresh comb being filled with honey. The cells in the comb are all tiny; much, much smaller than even our small cell comb. I estimated that the average cell was maybe 4-4.5mm across, almost unbelievably smaller than the comb I am accustomed to seeing. The difference is great enough to see easily without measuring or comparing to a sample of large cell comb. Accordingly, the bees are much smaller. They are smaller than some of the flies we have in NYC, but they are incredibly fast.

Oh. And they can sting.

Fresh honey!

A frame from a modern-style Zander hive being filled with fresh comb and rich, dark honey.

After looking at a few combs, we smoked the bees down and gingerly replaced the outer cover. As we walked away, my foot caught the support leg holding the hive and almost knocked it to the ground, but I caught it just in time, and Ebisa put the leg back in place. The bees didn’t care for the jolt, and came out to let us know. Behind our veils and gloves, we had little to worry about, but the people in the nearby houses didn’t have protective gear on, so we walked into the bushes to lose the bees while we carried the bucket of honey.

Once we had minimized the number of bees following us, we ran to the house to weigh the honey. We brought the smoker inside to mask any stings and his daughter, Ababo (Flower), and his son, Kena (Gift), took turns smoking bees out the door and seemed to delight in doing it.

Ababo helping to chase the bees away.

Ripe honey, ready for harvesting.

A very unhappy honey bee. Augustus Gloop's hymenopteran cousin.

He loaded the honey onto an old balance-style scale, and carefully weighed it at 4.5kgs of honey. When he extracts and filters it, he will sell it at market for 40-50 birr per kilo, or about $1 per pound. As his wife helped us wash our hands, he gave us each a piece of comb to eat and enjoy, and to me he gifted a kilogram of his reserved honey. It is so crystallized that it can be stored in a tied plastic grocery bag without leaking, but it is delicious. I’m looking forward to sharing it with my friends back home. The fresh honey we ate was dark and very rich. It reminded me of the dark amber fall honey we make in New York City.

4.5 kilos, a good harvest.

Kena is excited for fresh honey, and is not afraid of the bees.

Except when one gets too close. Hileu, our driver, helped weigh the honey.

A tasty snack.

Desalegn, Kena, and Hileu enjoying the treat.

When we had finished enjoying the comb, we washed our hands again and headed back to the car, but not before I gave Ebisa the veil and gloves he had used as a thank you. Both were donated by the Walter T. Kelley Company, and I still have four more sets to share! His kids were really excited about them and they should make his beekeeping duties much more pleasant.

Ejigayhu, Ebisa's wife and Desalegn's sister, helped us to wash our hands.

Kena liked the veil, so I gave it to him.

Showing off goodies from the faranji.

Back in town, we had a quick breakfast, moved to a newer hotel (with internet!) and went back to the lecture hall to work with the trainees for a few hours. I ended up having most of the day off as a representative from the Ministry of Agriculture had prepared a talk about the history of apiculture in Ethiopia, and differing practices in the various regions of the country. I was disappointed that I could not understand it, and Desalegn suggested that I take the afternoon off.

A small sting through my gloves. I didn't notice until breakfast.

Hileu, Desalegn and Ebisa taking some breakfast. Injera with every meal.

My feet were muddy, so I covered them with bags until they dried and I could clean them.

Local farmers, beekeepers, and government trainers enjoying some tea and cake.

Many people at the conference knew a good amount of English; we talked about bees, culture, and the differences between American and Ethiopian management practices.
Oh, and girls. They all wanted to know if I was married.

Learning about the history of regional apiculture in Ethiopia.
In Amharic.
Welp.

I found a katydid! According to Leviticus, I could eat this!
I didn't.

As it turns out, I needed the break. As soon as I got off my feet, I realized I was exhausted and spent the rest of the day lounging in my room as thunderstorms passed overhead and soaked the city.

Storm's a'comin', Pa.

Nekemte Training, May 15th

2012-05-17T15:53:00.000-04:00

I woke up early in the morning to have breakfast with Desalegn, Hileu, and Mahjeb. I ate chechebsa, a dish of spicy fried bread, topped with scrambled eggs and honey. The plate was huge and I got about halfway through it before I was full.

Dawn in Nekemte.

The bread is spicy, the honey is sweet, and the eggs are eggs.

When I was done, we got in the truck to meet Ebisa, a local beekeeper who lived 4km out of town and had agreed to show me his hives. Parking on the side of the road in front of his house, we got out and he guided us to his potato field in back. On the way, he pointed up and I saw that the trees were full of traditional hives. They’re shaped like cylinders made of thatch or reeds, with one closed end and a loosely fitted lid on the other. Ethiopians hang them in trees using forked branches and to harvest honey, pass them down to an assistant using a ladder. It seems a bit precarious to me, but it is the way it has been for generations and it works.

Many bees in a tree.

Keeping this high minimizes the number of stings on the ground.
You can see the ladders nailed into the trunk.

Cow dung is daubed on the inside to seal the cracks.

The reeds are tied around bent wooden loops to make the cylinder.

And reeds are staggered and tied over the ends.

In back was his bee house, a thatched building with no sides, filled with top bar and framed hives. The local variant of the basic Langstroth design is called the Zander hive, and it looks something like a pagoda. Each super has a lip on the bottom which extends over the top of the hive body below. It makes the hives very sturdy, but it is harder to get a hive tool in to open them up. Ebisa warned me not to get too close when it was light out. The bees here are very defensive and will try to sting you if you get closer than 20-30 feet from the hive. I resigned myself to taking pictures from afar until later.

The bee house, from a distance.

Enhance....

From there, we drove into town to meet the trainees and start teaching. When we arrived, a representative from the Ministry of Agriculture had just finished speaking and the group was taking morning shai (tea) with sugar and vanilla cake. When they were done, we walked back into the conference hall and I began to tell them about current bee science, the biology of the hive as a superorganism, bee social structure and communication. People were particularly interested in the dances of the bees and how much information can be shared through the hive. We broke for lunch about halfway through and went back to lecturing and answering questions after we had enjoyed some sustenance.

Shai and cake.

Back in the hall, I finished my talk about bee social structure and we moved on to the construction of top bar hives, which are referred to as ‘transitional’ hives in Ethiopia. Where lumber is available, most hives are constructed from the scraps and scavenged wood. For people from places where cut lumber is rare or expensive, as in rural areas, I shared pictures and construction methods for building top bar hives out of bamboo, reeds, or even wicker. We paused for a tea break in the mid-afternoon and continued talking about how to make top bars the proper width, and methods to create homemade starter strips of foundation to help the bees to build straight and moveable comb.

The group of trainees. Some came from as far as 100km away.

Several people had questions about and experiences with the bees in top bar hives building cross comb, turning a movable frame hive into an oversized and uninspectable traditional hive with fancy woodwork. To help them with these issues, we reiterated the importance of having top bars with the correct width of 32mm. An easy way to measure for top bars is to use a metal bottle top from a bottle of cola or mineral water. They are almost exactly 32mm wide and are commonly available, even in rural areas. I also explained the importance of having a good comb guide for the bees to follow, made either of wax or a wedge of wood.

Many people with top bar hives provided by the government have been putting in the top bars with large gaps in between them so that they can see into the hive quickly and without pulling out combs. Because of this extra space, their bees have been filling the hives with brace comb, making them impossible to work. I told the trainees about the importance of maintaining proper bee space by keeping the top bars (of the proper width!) tightly together and replacing them in the same order they were removed.

We finished for the day at 5 and took a short break. At 6, we headed back to Ebisa’s house so that I could do my first hive inspection with African bees.

In this region, it is customary for the beekeeper to only work with his (or her) bees after dark. Their belief is that the bees are much more aggressive during the day, and they have a point. When it is light out, the bees can see them better and follow them for longer distances when they are agitated. At night, they must rely on their sense of smell alone and usually stay closer to the hive after the beekeeper has finished.

When we arrived, it was still light, so we enjoyed a light meal of potatoes and bebere, the mix of spices that gives Ethiopian food its kick, in butter. For dessert, he shared with us bread and some of his own honey. It was very thick and very strong and very tasty.

Fresh boiled potatoes and berbere in butter. Every family has it's own recipe for this mix of spices, and the taste can vary widely.

African honey!

Sandwiched between pieces of bread. I ate a lot of it.

Soon it was after dark, and time to see the bees. I suited up and he tucked his pants into his socks and put the hood of his coat over his head. Ebisa doesn’t own a veil or gloves, so he did not wear them. When it is time to harvest, he and other local beekeepers borrow equipment from the local agricultural office on a rotating basis. Once we were protected as much as possible, we lit the smoker with hot coals from his hearth and dried cow dung to make a thick white smoke that smelled slightly sweet.

We walked over to the hives under the shelter in the darkness and used a flashlight in short bursts to open and look inside a traditional hive first. It was mostly empty and not ready for harvest, and the smoke kept the bees away from the entrance. When I looked in, I could see them running rapidly. They were tiny and dark, about half the size of my bees in NYC and much, much quicker.

Tiny bees on fresh white comb being filled with nectar.

After closing the hive, we moved on to a transitional, or top bar, style hive. Ebisa opened the hive using my hive tool and I got my first look inside a big African beehive. It was a bit startling.

As you can see, the top bars have been spaced widely, as is the common practice in this region. This allows the bees to build their comb crosswise, making the hive impossible to inspect without tearing it apart, or harvest without doing the same. More importantly, it gave the bees access to the space under the cover so that when we opened the hive, a great cloud of annoyed, tiny, fast, stinging insects flew into our face. Ebisa backed off while I took a closer look. Because I could not pull frames out without tearing the comb, I opted not to, and quickly closed up the hive after taking a few quick pictures.

The frames and the combs themselves were very widely spaced, particularly considering the small size of the bees themselves.

The bees tried to sting my camera.

Ebisa and I moved away from the hives, and used the red light on my headlamp to look for bees clinging to us, brush them off, and smoke ourselves. To get rid of the last of the flyers, we walked through the leaves of several small trees on the way to the house, where we took off our protective gear and cooled down. He showed me the two stings he had received, one on his ankle and another under his arm, through a hole in his coat. I was honestly surprised that he didn’t get more. As a thank you for showing me his hives, I gave him the hive tool donated by Dadant.

We piled back into the truck and when I got back to my room, I found that the water had been turned back on, so I flipped on the water heater in the room and enjoyed a steaming hot shower and shave.

Aahhhhh.

From Addis to Nekemte, May 14th

2012-05-16T09:12:00.000-04:00

My first real day in Ethiopia was spent driving. I woke up at 8 and met Daniel in the hotel lobby. We walked to the field office as he explained to me that I was going to leave for my field assignment immediately instead of spending a day or two in Addis sightseeing and preparing. At the office, I met Gemechis, the other office coordinator, who provided me with materials outlining the state of Ethiopian beekeeping and what areas were in need of improvement or more modern techniques.

From the office, we walked back to the hotel so that I could repack, check out, and meet Desalegn, my translator, Hileu, my driver, and Mahjeb, an accountant from ACDI/VOCA (the NGO handling my field assignments) who would accompany me to Nekemte, 300km west of Addis Ababa.

A small market on the road leading out of Addis Ababa. Coca-Cola seems to be very popular here.

On our way out of Addis, we stopped at a grain market so that Desalegn (which means ‘Happy’) could pick up 50 kilograms of tef, the seed (not a grain!) used to make flour for injeera, to bring to his family. For the interested, tef is in the same family as spinach, but the people here have bred it over millennia to produce many seeds instead of leaves.

Mmm, spinach seeds. Maybe I should mash them up and let them ferment!
Oh, and then I can pour it out flat and cook it.
Injera!

Desalegn (in pink) buying tef to bring to his family near Nekemte. It costs about $80 for 100kg.

Those 300km were a bit of a bear. The main road is currently under construction and there are many detours while the Ethiopian government and Chinese construction companies rebuild it. Because of those detours, the trip was about 8 hours of dust and jolts and heads bumped on the roof of the Toyota Hilux we were driving in.

The unpaved detours were often blocked by local herders who moved their livestock out of our way.
Eventually.

Real road and stares.

We stopped in the town of Ambo for lunch at a local bar and restaurant where we had injeera and freshly cooked and spiced derek tibs, fried meat served without sauce. It came with an Ethiopian Coke and some of the locally produced and bottled sparkling mineral water (“ambo wuha”) which was so bubbly that it almost flew out of the glass. Mixed together, the two were more than a sum of their parts and my driver told me that it aided in digestion. Don’t worry; the water is “bacteriologically potable”!

A drink Johnny Walker costs $78 (USD)! Why? Imported alcohol for commercial sale is taxed approximately 250%.

Good for digestion! Hooray! I wonder if I can get it in NYC?

Back on the road.

Along the way, many people smiled and waved. I waved back. The women smiled, blushed, and turned away when I smiled back. The children yelled “CHINA, CHINA!” I laughed as we passed them by. Desalegn explained that very few Americans come out this far, but there are many Chinese men working on the new road project. To the children, Chinese people are white and so am I, so I must be Chinese. With my eyes behind sunglasses and my straight hair, the confusion is understandable, but I joked with my companions about getting an American flag to wave out the side of the car. There is no slight intended; I was told that the Chinese workers are respectful and friendly as rule, particularly with children and that they are welcome here. Still, it’s pretty funny and I laughed pretty much every time it happens.

Most people use buses like these to get around Ethiopia. This is a 3rd-Level (Class) bus, the oldest and least comfortable.

Much of the highland region where I am is volcanic, and there are some beautiful basalt formations. This one reminded me of the Giant's Causeway in Ireland.

The baboons here are famously friendly and many locals will throw fruit to them. They are not aggressive and almost always run away from people.

We made two more stops along the way. Once, we paused to stretch our legs and have a cup of shai, or tea, in a small village where the woman in the roadside tea stand carefully washed tiny china cups and poured out a sweet and spiced dark amber liquid completely unfamiliar to me. The tea itself is similar to ours, but the water used to make it is heavily flavoured prior to brewing. Later, we stopped by the roadside where, under a large tree, a family sat roasting maize over an open fire to sell. We called out for two cobs which were brought to our window by a blushing girl who stared at me unabashedly until we drove off.

The maize was tougher than what I have been accustomed to and not as sweet, but with the kernels roasted black and a little crunchy on the edges, it was delicious and a perfect snack.

Nearing the end of a long drive.

We arrived in Nekemte after dark to find out that there was no running water in town and that all the rooms in the hotel came with buckets of cold water for bathing and operating the toilet. It is a big town, and the water supply has not kept pace. It goes out often. Luckily, I brought a large supply of towelettes. I shared them with Desalegn before dinner, and then I went to bed.

The main square in Nekemte.

THE TOP HOTEL IN NEKEMTE!
Featuring water in buckets.

From NYC to Ethiopia, May 11th to May 13th

2012-05-15T02:44:00.001-04:00

About a month ago I received a funny email from an organization called Winrock International.

“Hey Tim,” it said (paraphrased), “would you like to go to Ethiopia for two weeks on a USAID-funded Farmer to Farmer technical assistance grant and help teach local subsistence farmers about modern apiculture techniques?”

My first instinct was to be skeptical. Was this the newest variant of the Nigerian prince scam? Please, sir, if you send us just a little money, we will send you something much better and send you to Africa to teach about something you love.

I mean, how did they even get connected to me? I’m not a commercial beekeeper. I’m not a state apiary inspector. I’m not even a famous blogger. Some days, I’m pretty sure that my top reader is my mom, hitting refresh every 10 seconds. As I talked to the people at Winrock, I soon realized that they were both serious and on the level. Sam Comfort, of Anarchy Apiaries, had recommended me as a possible recruit and a good educational resource. Talk about flattering.

I spent the next couple of weeks scrambling to get ready. There was a lot to do, and I wasn’t sure that everything was going to fit before I start training for the NYC Teaching Fellows in the summer. Amazingly it all got done. Vaccinations? Check, six of them. My doctor apologized for how sore my arms were going to be. Medicine? Check. A prescription for anti-malarials and Cipro for when I am stupid and eat something which makes me horribly sick. Equipment? Check. My own fancy-pants Michelin-man style bee suit from Ultrabreeze and a bag full of donated beekeeping gear from Walter T. Kelley, Dadant, and Maxant Industries to share with the local beekeepers. Awesome. Bees? Check. I extracted (womp, womp) promises from Chase Emmons and Meg Paska to keep an eye on the Brooklyn Grange Bees apprenticeship program and Emily Vaughn to check my personal bees while I was gone.

I departed at 11:20PM on Friday. 3635 miles to Paris, France and a ten hour layover. A layover that long was an accident, but a happy one.

It's Paris!

I was picked up at the airport by my cousin Marie-Anne and her two children, Sascha and Irene, to spend the afternoon eating and exploring Paris. We met her husband, Louis, my cousins Max and Sophie and her baby, Vincent, at a 125 year old brasserie close to the Jardin du Luxembourg, the garden of the French Senate. After a lunch of duck foie gras soup, steak tartare and ice cream, we walked to the gardens to have a cup of coffee, meet my cousin Pauline, and see the bee hives in the garden.

Irene, Sascha, and Marie-Anne.

Me and Sophie.

Max and Louis.

(Relatively) normal faces. Vincent in the pram and Pauline next to Irene. Both were too serious to make faces.

The French Senate building from the Luxembourg Gardens.

Their garden hives were beautiful, copper-topped and buzzing with activity. Near them was the famous insect house for solitary and social bees, pollinating flies, and insects.

Les Abeilles!

The insect house in the senate garden. For bumblebees, stingless bees and other pollinators.

From the gardens, we walked to the Parisian beekeeping and honey boutique, Les Abeilles. I met the proprietor, talked about the differences and similarities between French and American beekeeping, showed him my Ultrabreeze suit, bought some honey made from butterfly honeydew (really!), and got the telephone number of the man who keeps bees on the Paris Opera House. If I finagle a long layover on my return journey, I may have the opportunity to see the most famous bees in Paris!

The famous Paris honey store. For some reason all the asian tourists stop here.

The proprietor and I. We had a lot to talk about, but not enough time.
His store is very popular, and many customers came in. I showed him my suit and he showed me French beekeeping equipment and honey.

Hooray for Honey!

From there, Marie-Anne, Sasha, and Irene drove me back to the airport for my connection to Addis Ababa. Irene tried to sneak along with me, but she didn’t quite fit in my carryon so I had to give her back to her mother.

7 hours, 3464 miles, and very little sleep later, I touched down in Bole International Airport at 6:20AM. I was picked up by Daniel, the Winrock Field Office coordinator, and a driver who took me to my hotel where I took a short nap. At 3, I woke up and was picked up by the driver to do a little bit of sightseeing.

I saw the Lion of Judah, the symbol of Ethiopian monarchy and sovereignty, stolen by Italy and returned to the Ethiopians after their liberation.

Flowers bloom year round in the garden surrounding the Lion of Judah. Emperor Menilik II is on the side.

I went to Holy Trinity Cathedral, the highest ranking Ethiopian Orthodox church in Addis and saw the tombs of Haile Selassie and his wife. I went to the Holy Trinity museum to see their collection of illustrated manuscripts, embroidered vestments, and ecumenical paraphernalia.

Holy Trinity Church, through the palms.

They have very nice seals, but are missing several letters.

From there, I went to eat in a restaurant housed in one of the former houses of the Emperor Menilik II, where I had doro watt (spicy chicken in sauce with a hardboiled egg), fresh cooked cheese, injeera (flatbread made from fermented tef), and a bottle of tej, the local mead. My driver gave me lessons on how to eat and drink properly (never with your left hand), how to be polite to the wait staff (clap, don’t whistle) and how to tip (any tip at all is considered a gift.)

A palace.

A feast.

My entire meal with two entrees and the bottle of honey wine cost $10.

Full and exhausted, I headed back to the hotel for my first full night of sleep in 3 days.

Brooklyn Grange Beekeeping Apprenticeship: Week 3

2012-04-24T08:37:00.000-04:00

“Tell me what you see.”

The answer is bees. Always with the bees. (And butts.)
c2012, Shelly Fank

This week there was a lot I could respond with.

On Friday, a few apprentices returned to the Brooklyn Navy yards to check on our packages. The good news: two packages are going strong. They’re drawing comb, laying brood, and bringing home pollen. It seems they are enjoying the beautiful spring weather just as much as we are. The bad news: three packages aren’t doing so well. In the first hive we opened, the queen was dead, quickly validated by Tim recovering her body (Super bee observation skills at work!). The bees had tentatively drawn out a few frames of comb that glistened with nectar, but there was not an egg to be found. The other two hives had queens, but the brood was spottily laid, with some cells empty and others containing more than one egg. These three hives are going to need new queens, either through their own raising or through our help.

Never hold frames horizontally. If it's hot, the wax can buckle and break.

Keep them vertically oriented, as they are in the hive, to maintain structural integrity.

Lovely new package brood.

Even dead and desiccated, queens are significantly larger than workers.

On Saturday, we learned just the skills to do that. Back at the Brooklyn Grange’s farm in Long Island City, we returned to the two overwintered hives to prepare a walk-away split. As I mentioned last week, the overwintered hives have been growing so rapidly that they are exhibiting signs of swarm preparation: the comb we’d scrapped off last week was built right back and there were several queen cups, sometimes more than one per frame, now full of royal jelly and supporting a queen larva.

To make the split, we prepped a super with some frames of honey, taken from the dead hive we cleaned last week. We then inspected the functioning hives frame by frame. Tim patiently answered all our questions (topics ranged from the genetics of drones from overwintered hives to the taste of royal jelly) and we spent a lot of time passing around frames, learning to spot queens and read the comb.

One instructor, 9 apprentices, and a camera strap.

After finding four or five frames full of capped brood and queen cups, taken from both of the overwintered hives, we had a full super. Before covering it, we shook a few more frames of bees into the box. These bees, regardless of their former task in their old hives, would now be responsible for managing of the tasks for the new one. Most will be nursing the new queens and brood into adulthood, the most crucial task for the survival of the split. The others will take care of the other chores, like foraging and cleaning. It’s amazing to think that in the course of a half an hour we radically changed their lives, forcing them to adapt quickly to a new reality.

Shaking bees like a Polaroid picture. Or just once. Yeah, just do it once.

Kamikaze bee is after the camera.

But that’s exactly what we did. The super was closed up and carried in a long procession of apprentices to the other side of the roof, where it will stay closed for a few weeks as the bees raise their new queen.

Next week: Back to the Navy Yards? A return to the Brooklyn Grange? The answer is a mystery to me as well. But one thing is sure, there’s going to be bees. A lot of bees.

4/20 Smoke Bees Erryday

2012-04-20T22:45:00.000-04:00

4/20, a day when we can all get together and smoke some bees.

Or catch them.

Today, while inspecting hives in the Brooklyn Navy Yard with a small group of apprentices, I received a text from Meg Paska, The Brooklyn Homesteader.

"A friends bees swarmed in Carroll Gardens. Want free bees?"

The answer is yes.

Yes, I would like free bees.

Thank you kindly.

Catching a swarm is one of the coolest things you can do as a beekeeper. The bees themselves tend to be healthy, as swarms cast from hives that were strong and resilient enough to survive the winter. They're docile as well; without a hive or brood to defend, they have no reason to sting unless seriously mishandled. That said, it's usually a good idea to wear basic protective gear like a veil. When knocking bees out of a tree, it is surprisingly easy to drop them in your face, and having a bee crawl up your nose is an experience I urge you not to try.

There are other risks as well. Swarms often enjoy alighting in hard to reach places. Up trees, on top of lamp posts, in chimneys, etc. Always remember to be safe and respect the limits of your abilities and equipment. Free bees are great, but they aren't worth hurting yourself. There are many people and beekeeping clubs (including me and the Backwards Beekeepers of NYC) who are happy to help catch swarms and give them a good home. Ask for help if you need it.

Back to the story.

I had an appointment in Red Hook to inspect the hives at the Added Value Community Farm and knew that there was a lot of extra equipment to hive a fresh swarm in, but by the time I was finished with my inspections, it was almost 3 and I figured that someone else would have collected the swarm.

I mean, free bees, right? Irresistible.

Still, I figured I was due for some good luck. Accompanied by one of the Brooklyn Grange Beekeeping Apprentices who was free for the afternoon, I threw some boxes (tupperware!?) into my car and booked it to Carroll Gardens.

I dropped Allison, the apprentice, off at the corner with instructions to find the house with the swarm while I went around the block trying to find a place to park. If someone had already laid claim to the swarm, I could just swing back around and she could jump right back in. No fuss, no muss. When I found parking, which happened to be extremely easy, I found Allison standing out in front of a bright pink flowering ornamental cherry tree. Up at the top was a remarkably large swarm, hanging from a thick branch and buzzing contentedly.

Hello, ladies.

After I finagled a ladder from a friendly neighbor, I set it up under the swarm, being very careful not to stomp on the flowers underneath. I sprayed the bees with sugar syrup to get them full, heavy, and calm while I maneuvered the large plastic tub I had brought into place under the swarm.

Would you care for a snack?

*BAM*

I quickly jerked the large branch the cluster was hanging on, the entire mass of bees fell into the box with a thud, and I slipped on the lid.

Swarm captured.

Bam them bees into the bucket. Don't smash them! A quick, firm tap will do.

Closed up and super excited.

The action sent a cloud of confused worker bees flying, so I waited several minutes for them to land on the branch again and shook them into a small cardboard box, which I quickly emptied into the main tub of bees. I did that a couple times and ended up only leaving a handful of bees behind hanging out on the branch. They should find their way back to their original hive over the next day or two with no problem, as long as I got the queen.

Catching the stragglers and showing off my worn out bee pants.

Get in my swarm box, or I will point at you with strong intent.

With the bees in tow, I gingerly placed them in the back of my car, returned the borrowed ladder and headed back to Red Hook where I had set up a deep hive body full of drawn frames to accept the new bees.

Looks like plenty of room. For a package, this would be huge.

Once I arrived, I opened up the hive and started pouring. So many bees.

Uh...
Slightly bigger than a three pound package.

Quite a bit bigger, in fact.

After they were all out of the tub, I did my best to close the hive without squashing too many and started transferring any large masses of bees hanging on the outside of the hive to the entrance at the front.

A small gob of bees. Warm and fuzzy.

I'm covered in bees.

When I left them, they were marching in and spraying Nasonov with their butts up on the air. Good signs.

Allison, looking triumphant with a buttload of bees. That's a technical term.

Welcome home!

This is probably the biggest swarm I have ever caught and it barely fit into a 10 frame deep. I'm going to have to go back soon and give them extra room to expand into. If their queen is good and starts laying, they're going to grow, and they're going to do it fast.

Awesome.

Brooklyn Grange Beekeeping Apprenticeship: Week 2

2012-04-20T21:45:00.000-04:00

Saturdays have become my favorite day of the week and not just because of the weather. While others are lazily lounging in the park working on their tans, I can instead be found covered up in white with the apprenticeship program. Certainly, there could be few better places to spend these wonderful weekend afternoons than on the Brooklyn Grange’s rooftop farm in Long Island City. Just above a bustling street, it’s quite a treat to hear long grasses rustle in the wind and the bees buzz.

Brooklyn Grange (in Queens) and a line of beekeeping apprentices.

This week the Brooklyn Grange Bees apprentices learned hive inspection skills at the Long Island City farm. We started off taking apart an abandoned hive whose colony didn’t survive the winter. Prying the supers apart and cleaning off propolis proved a good way to break in our brand-new hive tools and practice proper handling technique. It was also an exciting opportunity to learn about the behavior of bees during the winter. Opening the hive frame by frame felt almost like a criminal investigation—was there evidence of any foul play, perhaps by varroa mites? What about adequate food supplies? Examining the comb closely, we could see dead bees that had crawled into the comb to help with heating. It seems the colony was too small to create enough heat to survive the winter.

On a lighter note, we found several frames of untouched honey, which were quickly turned into a snack for the volunteers at the Grange. Spring and fall varieties were stored right next to each other, allowing us to perform a taste test and basically gorge ourselves on the sweetness of the fresh honey. After breaking for water and to clean our very sticky hands, we headed to the other side of the roof for the first hive inspections!

Brood frame on left, honeycomb on right.

Working on overwintered hives was a drastic change from working with the packages a week before. These were bees with an established home that they were willing and able to protect. Keeping the smoker burning and distracting the bees was essential. The bees were right to be wary of us coming in as opening the first hive caused the comb the bees had built between the super and the inner cover to rip off and tear apart rows of drone brood. While sad, it was an incredible opportunity to take a look at the different phases of larval development. Thankfully there was also plenty more brood inside the supers. Passing around the frames, we could see the larvae chewing their way out of the comb, emerging, and descending right back in to clean our their cells. It might sound bizarre, but it was actually a beautiful sight. I’m continually amazed by the efficiency of the bees, of their ability to function from the moment of their birth to their last flight out of the hive as a cohesive and prosperous unit.

Cleaned out drone brood. Purple-eyed pupae on top, late stage and cocooning larvae on the bottom.

Prosperous might be a bit of an overstatement actually. These bees are booming. Opening the second hive we found several supersedure cells. As we located the queen in another frame, very much alive and laying eggs, this could only mean the hive had outgrown its frames and is getting ready to swarm. Thankfully we had available frames from the abandoned hive (expertly cleaned by our very hands earlier that day) that were swapped in. Hopefully, we were in time to avoid the swarm, but only future checks will tell.

Capped brood in the middle, larvae and eggs around it, surrounded by pollen and corners of honey.
Practically perfect in every way.

I’m not sure whether we’ll be back to see these hives as next week we return to the Brooklyn Navy Yards to continue building the apiary, which I’m happy to report is now completely funded! (Many thanks to everyone who contributed!) But the visit was impactful for more than the hours logged. It’s easy to forget the life cycle of the bee when the population turns over so quickly and a frame of brood is replaced with another and then another and then another. The chance to see the various hives, both dead and alive, was a wonderful gift and reminder of the mortality of the bee.

Brooklyn Grange Beekeeping Apprenticeship: Week 1

2012-04-20T19:47:00.000-04:00

This past Saturday, my mild (well, more like obsessive) interest in bees changed course as I transitioned from armchair bee enthusiast to full-fledged rooftop beekeeper.

I read about the apprenticeship program of the Brooklyn Grange Apiary Project, Brooklyn Grange's creation of the largest commercial apiary in the city, through this very blog. I had been interested in beekeeping for several years, but without property of my own I did not think I would actual become a beekeeper, at least not while I was living in New York. So when I heard about the project I was overjoyed. As an apprentice, I would learn the ins and outs of beekeeping—everything from preventing swarms to harvesting honey to queen breeding—while helping manage the apiary's 20+ hives. I would also get the chance to share my new skills, teaching others and helping build the beekeeping community. The chance to spend my weekends with a bunch of people as excited about bees as me? Please. It would be a dream come true.

The dream team.
c2012, Alex Brown

It all happened quite suddenly. One week after I applied, I received a phone call telling me the great news that I had been accepted to the apprenticeship program, and the next, I was being texted a location in the Brooklyn Navy Yards to come out and assemble the first hives. At Ted & Honey’s Café, located in the Navy Yards, I met Tim and the eleven other apprentices. I also got my first look at the empty roof that would soon be buzzing with activity.

Surprisingly, it all went smoothly. Sitting in the back of Tim’s car were five packages of bees, loudly humming and ready to be freed. After a brief discussion of the task before us, we picked up the packages, our gear, and the equipment necessary to assemble the hives, and headed up the four flights of stairs to the roof. As it was a Saturday, the offices we passed were empty, but I couldn’t help thinking how those who work inside would react if they saw us crating thousands of bees past their doors. You have to admit, there’s something slightly comical about it.

Fifteen pounds of fun.

On the roof, we assembled four supers worth of frames, brushing up on our craft skills as we inserted foundation and nailed it in place. In assembly line fashion, we made a good team, finishing quickly so the fun could begin: installing the packages. I had read Tim’s blog post on package installation before arriving that morning, but as I donned my enormous hat and veil, I definitely felt my heart catch in my throat. This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I was no longer going to merely observe bees, but work with them, look after their needs and help them thrive.

More hands, more better.

We watched Tim masterfully install the first package. Then in teams of four, we worked our way through the process. It certainly was not as easy as it looked. There were some shaky fingers, which made for trouble prying open the package and pulling out the feeding can so we could shake the bees free. Emptying a three-pound box of bees with your bare hands sounds like a daunting task. But actually doing it, feeling the bees woosh past my hands, brushing and sometimes lightly bouncing off my fingertips, was not overwhelming at all. It felt exhilarating and bizarre, but oddly right. I doubt you could see my face beneath the enormous veil, but I’m sure I was positively beaming.

Pouring bees like water.
c2012, Alex Brown

Letting the apprentices take a turn.
c2012, Alex Brown

By the end of the afternoon, our brand new suits were speckled with bee poop, evidence of our encounters, and the once barren rooftop now held the four fledgling hives. While certainly not as excited as they had been thirty minutes before, the bees were still circling around their new homes, acclimating themselves to their surroundings and asserting their presence. As we learned, the bees in each package were randomly selected from a variety of hives. Now, exploring the perimeters of their new home, they are about to make themselves into a functioning unit, a coordinated and responsive team. I look forward to spending the summer with my fellow apprentices, as we, like the bees, learn from each other and develop into a thriving team.

Hooray for bees!
c2012, Alex Brown

Epitaph

2012-04-05T14:18:00.000-04:00

Constantine Pereyma was born July 14, 1919 in his parents’ home in the small village of Ropicia Ruska (now Ropicia Polska) in the Carpathian Mountains of southern Poland. He was an ethnic Ukrainian from the Lemko region. As a young teenager he was sent away to school in the city and eventually entered the University of Cracow in the School of Physical Education. He was there when the Second World War began. He moved west to Munich in Bavaria, Germany, and entered Dental School. His name was found on a list in the pocket of a man arrested by the Gestapo and he in turn was arrested and imprisoned in Dachau concentration camp. He was moved to the prison in the courtyard of Gestapo Headquarters in Munich to cut and replace glass shattered by Allied air raids. By the end of the war he was forced to defuse unexploded Allied bombs. After the war he completed his dental training and then enrolled in medical school in Erlangen, Germany where he met his wife Armenia (Aka). After medical school they emigrated to the United States. He paid for their passage by working as a dentist aboard ship. He worked briefly in Buffalo, New York, and then entered medical residency at Kings County Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. There he worked with Dr. Clarence Dennis on improvements to the heart/lung machine. After he completed a double residency he worked briefly for the Veterans Administration and then moved to Troy with his wife and three children to join the practice of Dr. Kenneth Lowry. They arrived here in 1959 with a station wagon and little else.

When he started practice in Troy, General Surgery encompassed almost everything except the heart and brain. He performed many orthopedic surgeries, using some of the first orthopedic rods and nails. He performed many cancer operations. He took particular pride in doing what had not been done here before and in doing what others said could not be done. A barber once came to him with a problem that other doctors said was terminal. Dr. Pereyma told him otherwise, and the barber cut his hair once a week over the next twenty years.

Dr. Pereyma encouraged and supported his wife in her art. With his son, Marco, he was one of the founding shareholders of Troy Cable Television. He continued performing surgery until his retirement from practice in 1992.

Dr. Pereyma and his wife of over sixty years, Aka, raised three children in Troy. Their son Marco lives with his wife Agnes in Binic, France. They have five children: Pauline, with her daughter Eleanore; Marieanne, with her husband Louis de Lespinay and their children Alexander and Irene; Sophie with her son Vincent; and Constantine and Maximilien. Their daughter Barbara Farrara and her husband Scott of North Haledon, New Jersey have two daughters, Sophia and Jacqueline. Their daughter Christina O’Neal and her husband Robert of Troy, Ohio have three children, Maire, Timothy and Helen. He was preceded in death by his father, Timothy and mother, Sophia, his brothers Stanislaw and Eugene and his sister Irene.

University of Cracow, prior to WWII.

Testing the heart bypass machine in Brooklyn, NY.
Center, with Dr. Clarence Dennis on right.

At my mother's wedding.

Makin' bubbles.

Reading the paper with me.

Hive Check: March 8th

2012-03-12T22:53:00.000-04:00

It's warm out. Silly warm. Driving to my apiary in Fort Greene, my car told me that the temperature was topping 70F. Days like this were meant to be spent outside with your bees and I am not one to deny myself such simple pleasures.

Two weeks ago I stuck my head in my Fort Greene hives and found them healthy and full of stores; even a little brood. This week, I found the bees in full on spring prep.

First I saw the huge amount of flight traffic coming in and out of the hive.

Little dudes were comin' in hot and heavy, loaded with nectar and pollen. From the roof, I could see multiple blooming trees, and a friend told me that Maples were already starting to bloom upstate. Sounds like it's gonna be an early spring. The bees think so, at least. I'll probably have to start swarm preparations within the month!

There seem to be bees in this hive.

Both hives have at least two frames of brood in all stages of development, and both are laying in nice, solid patterns. I was inspecting alone, so I don't have any shots, but expect to see pictures of emerging brood this week.

Smoke is magic. Also, that is sugar, not my drug cache.

I'm not gonna lie. I'm a little excited about this upcoming season, but a little nervous as well.

Thirsty bees. Apparently sub-irrigated planters make great waterers.

I've got a lot on my plate. I'll be starting my new job as a NYC Teaching Fellow in the fall, teaching science in a high-needs Brooklyn School. I'm starting a beekeeping apprenticeship and queen breeding program with Brooklyn Grange Farm in the Brooklyn Navy Yards. Sometimes I even go out with friends.

Ones who aren't bees.

Me, later this year.

It's gonna be a fun year, so keep on reading!

P.S. Come be my apprentice! Apply to the Big Apple Apiary Beekeeping Apprenticeship!

::Pssst:: Wanna be my apprentice?

2012-03-08T20:54:00.002-05:00

I'm pleased as punch that YOU (yes, you!) are among the very first to know about BAABA: the Big Apple Apiary Beekeeping Apprenticeship.

What the heck is that?

Lemme tell you: The clever young men and women at the Brooklyn Grange and I have secured a roof in the Brooklyn Navy Yard to host a few dozen hives, most of which will be dedicated to helping new volunteer beekeepers get the hands-on experience they'll need to become WICKED SWEET beekeepers. And YOU can apply for a spot!

Here's the full description of the program, and how to apply. And hop to it, we're reading applications as they come in!

Big Apple Apiary Beekeeping Apprenticeship

Brand new rooftop apiary seeks 12 volunteer beekeeping apprentices for the 2012 bee season (April through October or November). Working in small teams, our apprentices will gain hands-on experience in both basic and advanced beekeeping techniques, with a focus on treatment-free and organic beekeeping, and have the opportunity to pay it forward and mentor next year’s students.

About
This 20 hive apiary – poised on an expansive rooftop in the historic Brooklyn Navy Yard – will play host to NYC’s first hands-on beekeeping training program. Through education and outreach we aim to foster an inclusive community of new beekeepers and arm them with the tools they need to play an active role of the long-term sustainability of our city. The apiary is a joint project of Brooklyn Grange Farm and Timothy O’Neal of Borough Bees.

Benefits & Responsibilities
Our apprenticeship program is structured to give you all the first-hand knowledge you need to start a beehive of your own on your roof, community garden, or backyard. We will provide teams of two to three apprentices with several beehives, beekeeping equipment, basic safety gear, and close guidance through a season of hive management in a small group setting. Our goal is to give you the training you need to apply your knowledge independently by the end of the season, and leave prepared to be a mentor to new beekeepers next year. We’ll also arrange for a few field trips and special guests throughout the season to welcome you into the greater beekeeping community in New York City and beyond.

Apprentices will work directly with experienced beekeepers and gain hands-on experience that covers the gamut of beekeeping tasks: basic hive inspections, pest identification and management, swarm prevention, requeening, combining and splitting hives, and honey harvesting. You’ll also learn about more advanced techniques like cell size regression, queen breeding, and managing top-bar colonies.

Apprentices are required to devote an average of 3-4 weekend hours per week to the maintenance of their hives. On a typical weekend the instructor will give a quick, hands-on lesson (30-60min) using a demonstration hive on what to look out for at that point in the season, at which point apprentices will break into small teams to inspect their own hives under supervision from the instructor. Teams are responsible for maintaining close records of hive conditions and manipulations. Some heavy lifting required, must be able to climb 4 flights of stairs and work in all weather.

Who We’re Looking For
This is not a beekeeping 101 course; ideal candidates will be able to demonstrate some degree of knowledge, but hands-on experience isn’t necessary. We’re a brand-new program so we need people with a sense of humor, patience, and a willingness to help us find ways to improve as we go!

Benefits
In addition to the valuable hands-on training using provided equipment, we may be able to provide starter bee colonies to apprentices who successfully complete the whole program, to start their own hives next year. Students will get a portion of the honey harvest - but be aware that first-year hives sometimes produce little or no harvestable honey. This is a fantastic opportunity for anyone who’s interested in getting started managing their own bees and giving back to the larger community.

How to Apply
Please respond to bigappleapiary@gmail.com no later than March 21st with an email telling us about yourself and your interest in the apprenticeship. We will be reviewing applications as they are received. No resume necessary, creative applications encouraged.

We encourage teams of two to three to apply together. Those who do not apply in teams will be paired with other selected applicants. Youth, members of under-served communities, and people from diverse backgrounds are encouraged to apply.

Applicants who will be available during the work week, or with an interest in queen breeding and genetics will be given special consideration.

You could spend your time like this!

Well, this is probably a bit more accurate.

Or this.

Or this. Bees errywhere.
Oh.
Yes.

THIS COULD BE YOU!

Hive Check: February

2012-03-07T14:24:00.001-05:00

With the unusually mild winter that we have been having (and enjoying), there has been a lot of concern about the survival of hives in the city. The warm temperatures have altered the behavior of our bees, resulting in more time out of the winter cluster, an increased number of flights, and the early initiation of spring brood rearing. More activity means higher food consumption. For hives that were insufficiently prepared for winter or poorly maintained, it could mean starvation.

I spy with my little eye...

A queen! I do, I do! Esmeralda in Hive #1.

Quick, regular hive checks are an excellent way to see if your hives are on track for spring survival. When the weather is under 50F, you can quickly gauge the status of your hives by 'hefting' them. It's about as simple as it sounds. Go to the back of the hive, get your hands under the base and lift smoothly and gently from the back. If you can lift the hive without effort, the colony is short on supplies and should be reinforced. Dry sugar, syrup, fondant, and full frames of honey from another colony are all options for supplementing a hive light on food.

Tasty, tasty refined sugar. While Hive #1 has consumed a large amount of dry sugar, Hive #2 has consumed none.

What you give them will depend entirely on what you have available and what kind of mood you're in. Honey from another hive (a deadout, perhaps) is the best and most natural option. Dry sugar is the easiest, but is messy and sometimes the bees don't care for it. Fondant requires time and effort to make, but is nice and clean and the bees take it easily. Sugar syrup is the hardest to use as a winter emergency feed. It is easily cooled to a temperature that prevents the bees from taking it by chilly weather at night. Anything under 50-60F, and the bees won't touch it. Not much help there.

When the weather is well over 50F, you can do a real inspection to see how your bees are doing. If they're flying, it's warm enough to open them up. Even so, you'll want to be quick about it to limit any disruption or potential damage to developing brood. Keep in mind that the bees may be a bit more defensive than normal, and may continue to be so until spring brings new sources of nectar and pollen to distract them. Don't be alarmed, but do be careful and make sure you have your smoker lit and your veil at the ready.

There are a few things you'll want to keep your eyes out for. First and foremost, the priority is to make sure that the hive has adequate honey and pollen to make it until spring. What qualifies as 'adequate' is completely variable and subjective. Some bees are very frugal with their stores and need much less in the way of honey and pollen to make it through the winter. Italian bees from Georgia, for instance, require much more food than northern-bred Carniolan stock. You'll have to make your own determination as to whether your bees have enough food, based on your own experience. The heft test is still a great resource in warmer weather. Remember, if the hive is easy to lift, you should consider supplemental food until natural sources become available.

Hive #1 has about 10 frames this full in their top brood chamber.

While checking for food should be your first priority, if it is warm enough to get in the hives, you should check for signs of brood rearing, as well as indicators of disease. In particular, look out for sick or dying brood, frass (poop) from varroa in brood cells, and dead varroa under the screened bottom board. Even in the dead of winter, many hives will intermittently raise small patches of brood to supplement the cluster with young bees. If you spot a small patch of eggs, larvae, or capped pupae, don't be alarmed, but do take caution. Take note of the size and location of the brood, look for any signs of disease, and put the frame back before the brood is chilled. A small patch of brood is solid evidence that your queen is healthy and laying and a good sign that your hive is doing well.

Lovely hand sized patch of brood. Brought to you by Esmeralda.
Eggs, larvae, and capped pupae.

A large patch of brood is potentially worrisome. Too much brood early in the spring can prevent the bees from reforming a winter cluster if the temperature dips again. Workers will not abandon young, even at the cost of their own lives. If they can't cluster up, they won't be able to create enough collective heat to maintain their internal temperature and they'll die of cold. Ick.

Queen Lazing from Hive #2 made an appearance.

If you don't see any brood, don't panic. Some queens will hardly lay at all in the winter, and you won't see any brood at all until spring. Just make sure that they have enough food, wait it out, and chill.

Better you than the bees.

Weekly 101 (3/6/12)

2012-03-06T14:28:00.000-05:00

First Tuesday of the month? You know what that means!

There's a free monthly New York City Beekeeper's Association meeting tonight!

March 6th
Beekeeping in Kenya

New York Times photographer Andrew Sullivan and Cecilia Lee, along with NYCBA's Norm and Andrew Coté, will present a Power Point presentation and discussion on their January 2012 beekeeping trip to Africa, where they worked with different tribal beekeepers within the Rift Valley, and a stingless bee along the coast during this Bees Without Borders trip.

www.nyc-bees.org

As always, it's being held at the Seafarers & International House, 123 East 15th Street, and starts at 7PM.

Urban Hive Moving: Hatch Edition

2012-03-06T14:21:00.000-05:00

As mentioned in the last article on urban hive moving, some of us in the city are forced to keep bees in locations that would cause our forebears to do a spit-take.

You have your bees WHERE!?

Our urban community is uniquely creative when it comes to hive placement, and places the importance of keeping bees far above the relative convenience of doing so. I've seen urban apiaries that can only be accessed by climbing a 20 foot ladder leading up to unwalled, open air attic with roof access through a double paned window barely large enough to fit a hive through, let alone a person.

Getting bees in to these locations is hard enough, often requiring the hive to be brought through the access point piece by piece, but what about getting them back out? Once the bees have made themselves at home, you can't really remove the hive piecemeal... or can you?

In fact, this is exactly what is done to move hives out of a limited-access location. Split the hive(s) up into manageable pieces, and they are much easier to move. Obviously, this has its downsides and limitations. In order to divide a colony into manageable bits, it has to be warm enough outside to open and manipulate the bees without chilling the brood or breaking up a winter cluster. On top of that, splitting a hive means you'll have to have enough small (4-5 frame) nuc boxes to split the hives into. Cardboard and plastic nuc boxes are both commonly available and cheap.

Itty-bitty hive, itty-bitty hatch, still a pain.

For the most part, moving a hive through a hatch follows most of the procedures outlined previously, but with a few modifications.

The first change is to compress the colony as much as possible the day before the move. The smaller the number of frames occupied by the bees, the smaller the number of nuc boxes needed to move them. The easiest way to do this is to evacuate and remove any and all honey supers, reducing the hive down to the broodnest. Attempting to compress the hive any further or for any length of time risks triggering swarm preparations, particularly in spring or summer.

Once the hive has been compressed down to the broodnest, it can be split into nucs. This should be done in the evening, after most of the foragers have returned home, and with heavy smoke to limit the number of flying bees. Ideally, the arrangement and orientation of the brood frames should be maintained as much as possible. The entrances of the nucs should be sealed and ventilation provided so that the bees can get plenty of air. Most of the cheap cardboard/plastic nucs are perfect for this purpose, as they have pluggable entrances and plenty of ventilation. Make sure to carefully secure the lid and entrances of the nucs to prevent any escapes.

After the hive has been divided into small, discrete pieces, it can be easily carried down a hatch, while making sure to keep them level. When moved to the new location, the nucs can be recombined and treated as any other newly moved hive.

Wisdom on Overwintering

2012-02-22T11:13:00.000-05:00

“Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.”

-Alexander Pope

Urban Hive Moving

2012-02-21T13:31:00.000-05:00

Moving beehives is one of those things best avoided, but sometimes it just has to be done. Choosing an apiary site is an imperfect science at best and 'perfect' locations are about as common as henteeth. Pretty much every site is a compromise in some respect and this is particularly true in the city. Beekeepers in the city don't have a lot of space, so we often have to take what we can get. People change as well; beekeeping is not for everyone and sometimes the only way to find out is to try it. If you decide it isn't for you, you're going to have move your hives one way or another.

Bees? In MY elevator?
It's more likely than you think!
Moving a donated hive to the Brooklyn Grange last week.

Accepting these apiary compromises means that we, as urban beekeepers, also have to accept that we might someday have to move our bees, either because we want to or because we must. With this in mind I generally recommend that people do not put bees on property they rent.

Situations change, often when it is least convenient.

Personally, I prefer to (and do) keep my bees in permanent, established community gardens and on top of buildings owned by people I know and trust. Still, if it was a choice between no bees and keeping them somewhere potentially inconvenient, I know what I would do.

So say that you have a hive and you need to move it. How do you do it? It depends on a few factors. What's the weather like? How far are you moving them?

Conventional wisdom says that you can move a hive two feet or two miles. Anything more than two feet or less than two miles and the foragers get confused and try to return to the original location they oriented to. Obviously this is a problem as there isn't a hive in that location any more. You end up losing most of your foragers, or about a third of your hive population. So what do you do if you need to move your hives more than two feet (which is probable) and less than two miles (which is likely)?

Beehacks. (Beehacks?) More on that later.

This guide will assume that you have easy access to both hive sites, either because they are ground level, or easily accessible via stairs or elevator. I'll be writing a follow-up for locations featuring roof hatches or otherwise limited access.

The first thing you'll need to do is prep the new apiary site and gather the equipment you'll need. You should never move bees unless their new location is completely set up and ready to go, so that you can just set them down, open them up and let them be for a while. Moving can be traumatic, so it's best to give them time to adjust without prodding them any more than is strictly necessary.

In terms of required equipment, the list is short: A vehicle large enough to carry the hives you'll be moving, one or two strong ratchet straps, window screening material, some branches or bundles of grass (*hint, hint*) and a staple gun or strong duct tape (I use Gorilla brand.) You'll want some extra hands as well. Optionally, bring your bee suit, your smoker, sugar to feed with, a hand truck, or a hive lifter.

Once you've gathered your equipment, and gotten your new site prepared, you'll have to schedule a time to move the hives. In the winter, when it is too cold for the bees to fly, any time is acceptable. If it warm enough that the bees are flying (over 50F), you'll want to wait until the foragers are all back home for the evening so that you don't lose your field force.

If you crack open the hive first, they will come to see what has happened.
Can you spot the extended stingers?
Seal them up first, curiosity be damned.

Once the bees are all in the hive, cut a section of window screening large enough to seal the entire entrance of the hive. If your inner cover has a notch as an upper entrance like the one from Brushy Mountain, you'll want to plug it up so that the bees can't escape. If it's warm out, you'll need to smoke the bees so they don't come flying out at you when you open the inner cover.

I only squashed one bee. I consider it a victory. Once you start stapling, they'll come to investigate, so make sure that you have the mesh placed snugly and are holding it in place. Extra hands help.

Take the screen and staple or tape it over the entrance so that it is completely sealed around the edges. The screening will keep the bees in, but allow some air circulation. If you have a screened bottom board, take out the sticky board so that they'll have plenty of air.

Ventilation and curiosity.

With the hive sealed, you can secure it. Run the ratchet straps around the entire hive and cinch them down snugly, but not so tight that you tear into the wood. I like to use two ratchet straps, one front to back and the other left to right, so that they cross at the top and bottom. It's probably overkill, but better safe than sorry. Make sure that you seal up the hive before you ratchet them down. They don't like the vibrations and will come out to investigate.

First sting of the year!

Now that the hive is sealed and secured, it is ready to move. If you are carrying it by hand, pick it up from the front and back and be careful to keep it as vertical as possible so that the frames don't come loose. If you have a hand truck, make sure that you set it so that the back of the hive is against the metal frame. If you put the hive in sideways, the frames will tilt, break apart, squash bees, and possibly do some serious damage. If you have a hive carrier, follow the instructions, but remember to keep the hive level.

Notice how the hive is only being leaned back, in line with the frames so that they don't shift.

Load the hive into your transportation and take it to the new location. Unload it just as you loaded it, slowly and keeping it level. Set the hive where you want it and remove the ratchet straps.

Home sweet home at the Brooklyn Grange.

If you've moved the hive more than a couple of miles, you can open the hive and only lose a small percentage of foragers. The vast majority of the bees will take a short flight, realize that nothing around them looks remotely familiar, and reorient to the new location. You don't have to worry about any new foragers, since they'll orient to the new location as soon as they're ready to start flying.

But what if you've moved the hive close enough to the original location that the foraging areas overlap? The foragers will take their first flight, spot a landmark they previously identified in relation to their old hivesite and use it as a guide to fly directly back home. When they get there, they'll find nothing and mill around, confused and possibly cranky, until it starts to get dark. At that point, they'll start looking for the closest hive to take shelter in. Chances are, it won't be yours and you'll end up losing up to a third of your population.

If you don't want that to happen, there are a couple tricks (BEEHACKS!) that you can use to trigger reorientation behavior in older foragers.

The simplest is to just keep the hive sealed in for a couple days so that the bees can't fly. Make sure that the hive has plenty of ventilation and food. Combined with the vibrations and shaking from the actual move, and many of the bees will pay extra attention to where they are and trigger reorientation. According to Michael Bush, author of The Practical Beekeeper, about 72 hours of confinement is the sweet spot. Any shorter and fewer bees will reorient; any longer and the number will plateau.

You can also obstruct the entrance of the hive. When bees leave the hive, they leave on autopilot. They fly out with not a care in the world and only use landmarks for orientation on their RETURN trip. By obstructing the entrance with something the bees have to fly or crawl around in order to exit the hive, you force them to pay attention and register that something has changed. This change in the hive entrance will trigger reorientation to the new location. Loosely stuffing the entrance with grass so that the bees have to carry it aside works well. So does leaning some twiggy branches in front of the hive and over the entrance. You want to use something dense enough that all the bees will have to fly close through, but not something so thick that the entrance is blocked. After a couple a days, you can remove the branches, or let the bees remove the grass.

After you've moved them, you'll want to give them a couple days (at least a week) to recuperate and adjust. In your first post-move inspection, pay extra attention to any damage caused by the move, and make sure that the queen is laying (if it is seasonable for her to do so.) Queens tend to be a bit fragile, and the stress of moving can sometimes cause bees to ball, or kill, her.

I'll be writing a follow-up article outlining how to move hives that cannot be moved in one piece because they are too heavy or because they are too large to fit through the entrance to the apiary (roof hatches), so check back later this week!

TL;DR
1.) Prep new site and equipment.
2.) Seal up hive entrances with mesh and secure with hive bodies with ratchet straps.
3.) Move hive vertically to new location.
4a.) If moved over two miles, let them loose.
4b.) If less than two miles, keep sealed for 2-3 days, and obstruct but do not block entrance to trigger reorientation.
5.) ???
6.) Profit.

If you want to read about the hive moved in the pictures, check out this blog post at the Brooklyn Grange: http://www.brooklyngrangefarm.com/2012/02/10/got-us-a-donated-hive-today/

Weekly 101 (2/21/12)

2012-02-21T10:16:00.001-05:00

Been a while since I've done one of these, eh? Lucky for you, there's a bunch of good stuff happening this week and next!

Firstly, I'm teaching my BEST EVER Beekeeping 101 Course at the Brooklyn Brainery, starting on the 23rd of February. I've been reading some fancy new literature and rejiggering some of my explanations, so expect to learn a lot of nifty information in nifty ways.

If you were on the fence about keeping bees this year, now is the time to jump. This will probably be the last section of Beekeeping 101 that I'll teach this season before I throw myself into new and exciting projects. (Apprenticeship program!)

Check it out here: http://brooklynbrainery.com/courses/beekeeping-101 $50

For those of you who have bees already or just have a passing curiosity, the Backwards Beekeepers of NYC are hosting a Wax Processing Demo at the Brooklyn Brainery on February 27th, starting at 8:30PM!

Please join the Backward Beekeepers of NYC for a wax processing workshop! We will be doing a cooking show style demo plus bee trivia with prizes!!

We will be covering all the live steps in rendering beeswax from the hive so it can be used in various applications, including candles, salves, furniture polish and starter strips for foundation on foundationless hives.

Open to beekeepers and folks who would love to learn more!

Hope to see you there:)

For more info and to stay in touch:
http://www.facebook.com/BackwardsBeekeepersNYC
http://twitter.com/beebeenyc
http://BackwardsBeekeepersNYC.blogspot.com/

AND it's FREE.

YES, THE BEES!

Continuing the excitment, Meg Paska, another co-founder of the Backwards Beekeepers of NYC is teaching Beekeeping 101 at TWO locations in March!

In Midtown!

If you have a sunny yard or rooftop and 15 minutes a week, you could be harvesting honey from your own bee hive! Learn the basics of first-year beekeeping, including honeybee anatomy and hierarchy, hive assembly, feeding, re-queening, and swarm prevention. This course is guaranteed to get you hooked on honeybees. Please bring lunch to the Saturday field trip.

Classroom Hours: 9

$213 for members, 191 for non-members.

http://conted.nybg.org:8080/WebModule/jsp/ed2df.jsp?df1=slayout&df5=123GAR347B&df7=course__122GAR347

In Bushwick!

Beekeeping isn’t just for farmers anymore! Learn the ins-and-outs of keeping bees in an urban environment. Maintaining an apiary is easier than you think - all one needs is a relatively accessible rooftop with a lot of sun, 15 minutes a week and tolerance for the occasional sting. With some patience, you can harvest your own distinctive, local honey and contribute to the pollination of your community’s flora!

In spite of what you might think, Honeybees thrive in urban areas like New York City. With an abundance of flowering trees and weeds, pollinators have their pick of as much nectar and pollen as any country bee might. In addition, they don’t come into contact with pesticides like rural bees do, so colonies tend to be healthier.

In this class you will learn about honeybee anatomy and behavior, hive function and construction, neighborly relations, urban beekeeping pros and cons, disease and pests, legality and safety and much more. You will leave this class with enough understanding and confidence to start your own colony in the Spring.

Basic/Custom Member Price: $80
Nonmember Price: $100

http://www.3rdward.com/3rdwardclasses/rooftop-beekeeping-101.html

What is the difference between Meg's class and mine you may ask? I'm not sure, but they both rock. Go to the one that's most convenient!

Also, she is a girl.

I am not.

Review: The Beekeeper's Bible

2012-02-09T13:32:00.002-05:00

Further proof that I am not dead: A guest review of The Beekeeper's Bible on BrooklynHomesteader.com!

Really, the title of this book is appropriate. Like the bible, it tells a great story, full of historical trivia, interesting characters, quotes, battles, parables, and bite-sized lessons. Then again, like the bible, it isn't a lot of help in living your modern life, or managing your bees, as the case may be. The trivia adds context, as do the characters, but the lessons themselves are out of date, trite, or just one-sided. Both were even written by committee! The Beekeeper's Bible has no less than 22 listed authors, and just like its namesake, suffers from constant self-contradictions in sections written by different people with different opinions on how things should be done.

To read the rest of the review, head over to BrooklynHomesteader!