Seeing queen bees on the inside of her eyelids, rookie beekeeper Aimz checks in from the Bay of Plenty as the season ramps up and the splits just keep on coming…
The season of growth has begun, and there’s a lot to consider. I still have much more to learn during my first spring with the bees.
Once upon a time people believed nectar fell from the heavens. Powers of observation proved otherwise. ‘Observation’ being a key word here. This is a skill I am improving on daily during hive inspections. Splitting, requeening, brood inspection – all require large amounts of it.
And every eye is honed to the Keystone of all, Her Majesty, the Queen.
Subject to another misconception of beekeeping, this colony dictator was once referred to as the ‘King Bee’. Using methods of dissection, the monarch was found to have large ovaries. Due to this observation the now engendered Queen Bee became the pinnacle of honey bee research.
We learned that it is her pheromone that incites cohesion in the masses.
An old term called ‘colony morale’ was used to basically sum up the result of a good young queen with plenty of pheromone. Expressed in traits such as pollen and honey hoarding, ability to overwinter, high brood viability, and degrees of resistance to ailments, as well as being generally content and not overly aggressive or prone to swarming.
Which is why it is crucial we maintain a young vigorous stock of queen bees in our hives.
This season’s first order of 35 mated queens arrived via a delicate exchange at the post office. A fragile, softly humming package – the first of many.
All systems are Go.
These queens, which have been selectively bred and mated for temperament, productiveness, resistance, and hygienic tendencies, were soon nestled snug into new splits. Egg laying machines poised and ready.
We are splitting, requeening and building our way into pollination with strong double brood box hives. The intensity of work is picking up with timeframes for queens and feed runs crucial as we find some hives honeying out while others have a localized dearth.
And the queens keep coming. Surely, I can’t be the only one seeing them before I fall asleep?
Dad has his own queen raising program, selectively breeding from his best performing stock, but his season is only really kicking off now, so into our splits this last month we have been instating cages of overwintered queens from Kereru Queens in the Hawke's Bay. A supplier Dad has consistently trusted and utilized since the turn of the century.
A bit like playing a “Where’s Wally”, spotting queens and examining frames of bees is always interesting, with every frame a different scenario giving a picture of the whole. Just the other day I was surprised to find two queens co-habitating the same frame, mother and daughter with identical pheromones. Time will tell if two are better than one.
I’ve come across the acronym, bees with B.I.A.S, or, Brood In All Stages, and it is becoming second nature scanning thousands of frames to check B.I.A.S, as well as inspecting for disease pretty much any time we open a lid.
Identifying queens would probably be a lot easier if they were all ‘marked’, and I suppose most beekeepers have a story to tell about queen marking, so here’s one from my family business…
Some years ago, my dad spent his pocket money on his first Instrumentally Inseminated queens – (can you imagine ejaculating drones for a job?).
They were an investment. At over $2000 per queen they were, well, worth their weight in gold. Number one was. Leathery perfection, the bee’s knees’, laying up full frames of brood. She was kept in service for the better part of two seasons and was a shining example.
Number two however, never really did it. Brood frames were patchy, and dad struggled to get enough cells to graft from. One time he went to look for her and she was gone, just disappeared. She had left a nice supersedure cell though, that fortunately developed into a top-notch queen – back to full frames of brood. Being in the habit of marking his queens, dad got a hold of her and went for his trusty twink pen, but she was having none of it - she broke from his grasp and started putting it on like she had a damaged leg, although after a while she appeared absolutely fine.
Second attempt he had her pinned down, twink in hand – but, he had forgotten to shake the pen. He pushed down on the pen and the twink burst forth, cascading over her body, the top of her head (not the eyes) her thorax and down one of her legs as she went mental.
Oh no.
She fell off the frame and Dad winced as he looked down to see her on the baseboard. Discouraged, and assuming the worst, he put her back on the top bars and amazingly after quite some time she... sort of appeared to come right. Forever after she was known as The White Elephant, and some great queens were made from her line.
If only they were all that easy to find!
Changes are a-foot though with my up-and-coming secret weapon, and queen bee spotter extraordinaire – my 10-year-old daughter. She is nipping at my heels to become the next beekeeper in the family line. Partly obscured by smoke and sporting a new Deane bee suit we picked up for eight dollars in an op-shop, she is buzzing around the apiary sites any chance she can get. Even a small gopher can be a big help when we are head down, bum up.
With my head in a hive until next time,
Aimz
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