1st time beekeeping 2019

2019 was a heavy year, but was also filled with tons of natural beauty and challenges. Having the chance to manage land was something I had looked forward to for a long time, and I am grateful for the learning opportunities. 

During that time, a local saw the fruit trees on the land, there were about 12 orchard varieties and asked if they could give a beehive and a nucleus colony to us to manage. After a bit of discussion an agreement was made, and the nucleus was brought to the land in spring. 

They were little Carniolans (Slovenian Honeybees). I had only done a little bit of research into beekeeping up until then, as I thought it would be many years (if ever) until I got the chance to care for bees. Needless to say I was excited and began researching furiously and relied on the guidance of the person that volunteered the colony.

Unfortunately, that person didn't know much about beekeeping, and was pretty terrified of getting close to them. So shortly into the endeavor, it was up to me. The person that brought the little sweeties had advised that I do my tending in the early morning, "before they really woke up". This was probably the worst advice to give. The best time to tend is closer to mid-day when it is warm and dry. Most of the workers are out gathering at that time. They are still warming and waking in the early morning, and most of them are still at the hive, ready to protect.

I didn't have a keepers hood yet, and had been make-shifting my body covering to manage frames and fill their sugar feeder... and getting away with it for a few weeks. Independent research on beekeeping brought me mixed messages and a lot of methods to choose to try for the hive's health, and frame management. I wasn't using smoke to hide in yet and began to feel like I was getting to know the colony's temperament. 

One morning, I was feeling stupid I guess. I was just going to fill the sugar feeder as I had been doing for a few weeks, but this time I was like, "I am one with nature, and will rely on my good vibes to keep the bees calm." I went out barefoot and in shorts and a tee-shirt. The colony had grown stronger over the weeks we had been tending them, and they had my lesson primed and ready that morning. As soon as I opened the lid, they got defensive and began to sting me.

I remained calm, closed the lid so I didn't leave it open, told the person I was with to go inside (she was already at a distance), then walked calmly away from the hive as they stung me about eight times. The stings hurt as bad as hornet bites, but that apitoxin was not fun in the dose I was given. It didn't really take ahold of me until that night, causing aches, fever, and convulsions. 

I finally got a few hours of sleep, but that entire next day I was useless. It felt like I had been hit by a car as every part of my body ached heavily. From then on, I used a keepers hood, pants, and gloves. I learned what smoke does to the hive and prepared some shredded cedar bark I picked up from someone's discard pile in the area, to use as tending smoke. 

I developed a little ritual in mid-day, and the hive and I became much more used to one another. I eventually pulled the sugar feeder frame, and switched to an open feeder on the recommendation of another local keeper that had kept a colony alive for three years, and had even caught a swarm, so I figured he knew better than I did. The hive was doing a good job building there winter stores, but began to show signs of deformed wing and varroa mite infestation. It was tough to watch.        

  

I wanted to use organic treatment options, and some reports were stating that varroa mites were developing resistance to the common Apivar treatment. I decided I would go with Apivar mite treatment for the hive's first year, then switch to herb oil deterrents, and a hop derived treatment the next spring if they survived the winter.

Sadly... they did not survive. I don't know why. They had plenty of honey, I inserted a tight cedar entrance limiter, there was a good group of nurse bees, and a dense comb arrangement. The photos above mostly show the aftermath. The queen died there in that cluster of nurses. The mold most likely developed after the bees died and stopped cleaning it. 

​Maybe it was the varroa damage, maybe I didn't vent enough, maybe moisture and mold overtook their efforts. Either way, they didn't make it to spring. They did leave behind two gallons of incredible honey, and lots of wax to work with. After cleaning and harvesting the honey from the frames, I set them outside in the open boxes for the native bees and other insects to pick even cleaner. The fuzzy one in the photo at the bottom is one of the native bumblers licking honey out of some comb. 

I had built a simple cedar rain roof that sat snuggly over the aluminum covered Langstroth hive lid. I had also planned a cedar winter box, that would house and insulate the Langstroth boxes during future winters. Unfortunately, I did not get the opportunity to try again. I did however learn a lot from the experience, and perhaps will get the chance to try again, or help someone else in their keeping. Until then, enjoy the pictures, and don't make the mistakes I made. 

​NR