Clipped and Marked? Part 1

If you live north of the equator, you’ve noticed the days getting longer. Your bees have noticed, too. Maybe you’ve already had your first late-winter inspection.  Hopefully, you are not peering into hollow tombs, but instead you’re seeing bustling little cities. Either way – good hives or dead hives – you will probably need to buy some queens. You’ll need to requeen some hives and split the strongest to replace the deadest.

I will write more, later, about recognizing queen quality, selecting a queen breeder, raising your own queens, and  introducing queens. For today and tomorrow, I’d like to write a few words about a question you may be asked when you order queens: “Clipped and marked?”

Look closely, you’ll see the queen’s left wing has been neatly clipped.

Tomorrow, we will look at marking queens. The question for today is: “Clipped?” When you are asked this, it means that the queen supplier is offering to clip a wing on the queen they will ship to you. The questions you may be asking yourself are “Does it hurt? Does it damage the queen? Why would I want that?”

As far as we know (and we don’t know everything) snipping the queen’s wing tip does not cause any more pain than a hair cut or nail clip causes either you or Fido. There is, of course, the possibility of making a mistake (a queen breeder I know complained that his toughest, strongest hired man sometimes clipped a queen’s leg by accident) so if you are really worried about contributing to a clip culture, you can tell the queen breeder, “No, thanks.” But if you do request clipping, you will almost certainly receive an uninjured queen that will live as long as any other queen.

If there is a possibility of injury, why get a clipped queen? Some beekeepers think that clipping will prevent swarming. If your bees get ready to head for the trees, a clipped queen is stuck. The queen begins to head for the sky with her hive mates. Then, embarrassingly, she crashes at the hive’s lighting board. Irritated, the bees all fly back, encourage her to try flying again, but she just turns around and ambles back to the nest. Defeated. The bees wait a few days and then take off when one of the ripe swarm cells ruptures and a new queen emerges. The new queen (still a virgin and quite energetic) will likely kill the hive’s clipped and disgraced queen. At this point, the bees may wait for the new queen to mate, then swarm with her. Or, they swarm when the virgin takes flight, causing a lot of confusion. Either way, you still lose a swarm. Clipping is no substitute for good colony management that prevents swarming.

Bees - May Swarm at the Lot

Clipping: no substitute for good colony management.

So, if clipping doesn’t prevent swarming, why is it done? Do I recommend it? If you are a new beekeeper and do not yet have a lot of experience handling queens, you should consider clipping. Your queen could fly away during hive manipulations.  This is not common, but new queens are energetic, light-weight, and eager to escape – especially during their first few days on the job.

If you are installing packages and quick-release the queen by opening her cage so she can quickly get to work (a good practice), she may dart out of the cage and take to the air. As another example, you may introduce your caged queen using an introductory screen. You need to move her from the cage to the screen and she may fly away at that point.

Sometimes, during the first few weeks after establishing the new queen in a nuc, you may pull a brood frame from the hive and then see a flash – your biggest and most valuable bee has taken to the sky. These things are rare, but all beekeepers eventually get to experience the sickening thrill of seeing the hive’s mom vanish n thin air. All these episodes are prevented by a simple, delicate snip of the tip of the queen’s wing.

There is yet another reason some beekeepers prefer clipped wings. It helps identify the queen’s age. Queens rarely last longer than three years. If your queen is clipped, the breeder will likely cut the tip of the queen’s right wing this year because 2016 is an even-numbered year. Last year’s queen should have been clipped on her left wing. If, next April, you find a queen with a left-clipped wing, you will know at a glance that she is entering her third year and she is not the homegrown progeny of a swarm or supercedure. She is a queen which you purchased in 2015. You might consider replacing her, especially if her brood pattern is poor.

Don't hold her legs; don't use garden shears.

Don’t use garden shears.
– from Sanford and Bonney’s Keeping Bees

You may wish to clip your own queens’ wings when you spot a new, fully mated, queen in your hive.  Some beekeepers always carry neat, sharp wing clippers which may be purchased from equipment dealers.

Others use fingernail scissors. You need sharp scissors for a clean cut. If you tatter or pull on the wing as you cut, you risk muscle injury to the queen. Be careful. Don’t use garden shears, but don’t be afraid to clip if you have valid reasons.

holding queen 3Should you clip your own, use bare hands, gently (gently!) hold the queen’s head and thorax in your non-dominant hand, and ease the open scissors around the tip (one-fourth inch, or 6 mm) of both wings on one side and snip. Some beekeepers hold the queen’s legs, but I’ve felt the queens wiggle and try to pull loose and have worried about damaging a leg. And believe me, making a splint for a queen bee and getting her to use it is a lot of work that care and caution could have prevented!

Posted in Beekeeping, Queens | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Bees are Meaner if Childhood is Miserable

girl on bike chased

Some aggressive honey bees were raised to be mean. Some bees, it seems, grow up on the wrong side of the honeycomb. Or, as one experiment shows, in the wrong sort of hive.

Illinois and Pennsylvania researchers conducted a brilliant little experiment. They seem to have discovered that worker bees reared inside a mean-spirited hive will be more aggressive.

First, they categorized 38 colonies as aggressive, neutral, or passive. Then they took frames of worker brood eggs and placed the good-natured brood into hives of nasties. In the mean hives, the eggs hatched into larva that were fed and nurtured. Before the new adults emerged, the brood was allowed to emerge in an incubator.  In lab conditions, these newbies were tested for personality traits related to aggression. As it turns out, bees reared by meaner bees show slightly higher aggression. Coincidentally, they also showed greater resilience to immune challenges and mites. They were both meaner and tougher.

Why? Well, we know, of course, that nutrition of developing youngsters is vitally important across the animal kingdom. Better food, better health and growth. But this is a bit different. It’s a study of the temperament, or personality, of the offspring. Certainly, these may also be related to biological and biochemical conditions ultimately controlled by nutrition. But it says a lot about how this all ties into social behaviour.

ratsYou may have heard about dozens of lab-controlled observations of mother rats grooming and licking their newborn pups. Genetically identical pups that were treated to this sort of attention during their first week grew up to be calmer adult rats. Rats with less caring moms grew into life-long anxious neurotics. The difference is an epigenetic (not genetic) manipulation in the newborns’ DNA. Certain genes are switched on or off, depending upon environmental conditions. These have life-long effects. The bee experiments don’t necessarily imply the nurse bees’ actions were epigenetically changing the new bees’ behaviour. But something was certainly happening.

The research team (Clare Rittschof, Chelsey Coombs, Maryann Frazier, Christina Grozinger, and Gene Robinson) produced the evocatively labeled paper “Early-life experience affects honey bee aggression and resilience to immune challenge” which you may read on Nature’s open science site. Here is an excerpt:

We report for the first time that a honey bee’s early-life social environment has lasting effects on individual aggression: bees that experienced high-aggression environments during pre-adult stages showed increased aggression when they reached adulthood relative to siblings that experienced low-aggression environments, even though all bees were kept in a common environment during adulthood. Unlike other animals including humans however, high-aggression honey bees were more, rather than less, resilient to immune challenge, assessed as neonicotinoid pesticide susceptibility. Moreover, aggression was negatively correlated with ectoparasitic mite [mainly varroa] presence. . . . Because honey bees and humans share aspects of their physiological response to aggressive social encounters, our findings represent a step towards identifying ways to improve individual resiliency. Pre-adult social experience may be crucial to the health of the ecologically threatened honey bee.

This elegant little experiment may open a whole new avenue of research into social insect behaviour and will likely have direct application to keeping healthier (if less happy) bees in our apiaries.  I encourage you to read the paper in its entirety.  We also thank Nature for allowing the on-line publication, rather than hiding this important paper behind an expensive firewall.

Posted in Bee Biology, Genetics, Science | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Bumper Crop

honey prize ribbonThe numbers are in and the prize goes to Alberta. Alberta, a province in western Canada, has once again won the prestigious honey production award. For those of us who learnt beekeeping where 50-pound crops are the norm (in my case, Pennsylvania), the size of western Canadian honey crops seems the thing of fairy tales, right up there with fire-breathing dragons. Last year’s crop was 145 pounds. (66 kilos) That’s the average per hive from over 250,000 colonies in Alberta. Many colonies did much better. The average would have been higher, but about 30,000 colonies were rented to seed growers – pollination bees didn’t make much honey.

One of our more scenic yards, south of Calgary, in sight of the Rockies

One of our more scenic yards, south of Calgary, in sight of the Rockies

If you don’t know much about western Canada, I’ll tell you this about Alberta. The place is big (bigger than France, for example). About half is forested. A large and scenic chunk is in the Rocky Mountains. Alberta’s two big cities (Edmonton and Calgary) each have over a million folks. We also have the ideal place for honey-making.

Alberta on a map

What makes a bee paradise? Sunny days help. Long, clear, warm days with just enough rainfall to keep nectar flowing but not so much that the bees are kept in their hives for days on end. The right sort of flowers. (Here, that’s canola, clover, and alfalfa.) Strong, healthy bees are also essential.

Honey by the barrel.

Canadian honey by the barrel.

Alberta keeps surprising me with its great crops and healthy bees. Our bees should have been killed long ago by neonicotinoids. Neonics are used heavily here. 99% of Alberta’s 6 million acres of canola oil seed crops are treated with neonicotinoids. Honey bees work canola enthusiastically. Yet, Alberta bees have not suffered the ruination that neonics are alleged to have caused in some other parts of the world. Neonicotinoids are undoubtedly poison to bees, but after continuous and almost ubiquitous use here for a decade, the insecticide has not yet destroyed Alberta beekeeping. Instead, the bees continue thriving, wintering well, and making bumper crops of honey. If neonicotinoids are killing the world’s bees, then this does not make sense. Maybe disaster is just around the corner, but after so many years, it should have already struck.

Here are the statistics for the Alberta honey crop, reported by StatsCanada and repeated in the Daily Herald Tribune:

Alberta beekeepers produced 42.8 million pounds of honey in 2015, up 20.4% from 35.5 million pounds in 2014, according to Statistics Canada. Nationwide production rose 11.4% to 95.3 million pounds.
According to Medhat Nasr, Alberta Agriculture’s provincial beekeeper, the weather in 2015 was so kind to the province’s bees that their winter mortality rate was the lowest in 15 years, at 10%.
“That compares to the national average of a 16% loss and the American average of 23%,” he said in a press release. Yields in Alberta rose from 125 pounds per colony to 145 pounds.

CBC news had similarly good reports:

New figures from Statistics Canada show Canadian beekeepers produced 95.3 million pounds of honey in 2015, an increase of 11.4 per cent from the previous year.
The total value of the sweet stuff is up by 10.9 per cent to $232 million due to the increased production.
“The industry is successful and is growing. It really is a positive message,” Rod Scarlett, executive director of the Canadian Honey Council, said Wednesday.

Finally, the Statistics Canada summary. Notice that Canada has 800 more beekeepers than it had 5 years ago and 85,000 more colonies of bees.

stats canada bees 2

Posted in Beekeeping, Honey | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Groundhog Day Again

groundhogWhen I was a kid growing up in western Pennsylvania, Groundhog Day was a big deal. It didn’t hurt that it was also our elementary school principal’s birthday. We didn’t get the whole day off (unless Feb 2 was on a weekend) but we did participate in many rousing games of ‘catch your shadow,’ ‘catch your friend’s shadow,’ and, of course, ‘catch your shadow’s shadow’ – looking back, I think the teachers used this time for a coffee break. Or maybe they were in the principal’s office, cutting cake. Here in western Canada, the day passes with barely a salute. My young children said that they don’t even draw pictures of groundhogs. It was ‘business as usual’.  I wonder if their school is a bit too serious?

The groundhog tells us how our winter will end. With a bright sun and scary shadow, the overgrown rat runs back into its cave. Unless sadly, (and I need to get serious for a moment) the groundhog dies just before emerging, as Winnipeg’s Winnie the Groundhog did this year. Here’s a link, it takes you to The Weather Channel. The Weather Channel has a groundhog story? Not surprising – they have to get their long-range forecasts somewhere.  Anyway, here in Calgary, winter will linger. If it’s cloudy, there’s no shadow and winter will end in, well, a month and a half. These creatures and their shadows are about as skilled as our best TV weather folks. But what about bees? What do they know about the weather?

Calgary's Ground Hog

Calgary’s Groundhog
(Richardson’s Ground Squirrel)

There are plenty of stories of beekeepers standing around their bee yards and suddenly noticing that all the bees are heading home while none are going out to forage. The beekeepers look up and a cyclone or hail storm or lightning ball or wall of water or something is rushing towards them. The bees probably have responded to rapidly falling barometric pressure by heading for shelter. They don’t like being caught in the rain any more than a beekeeper does. They are just more aware of quick weather changes. And they fly home faster than people do.

But can bees compete with Pennsylvania’s Punxsutawney Phil by making a long-range forecast?  Well, I have heard beekeepers claim that a tighter broodnest and extra bee glue (propolis) filling cracks between the boxes means a rough winter is ahead. I don’t know. A congested broodnest is likely because of a late-season nectar flow while excess propolis means the gummy parts of pines and poplars that secrete resin have been extra active – and the bees have been extra busy hauling the stuff home. Do they sense a tough winter? I’m not sure which clues our bees see that we don’t. But my mind is open on this one.

There is also the legend that honey bees will nest higher up in trees when they anticipate a winter with lots of snow. This one is extremely unlikely because wild bees swarm in the spring, many months before winter snows are expected. And here in western Canada, hives buried under a meter of snow actually survive better with the extra insulation than hives sitting out bare and exposed on the windy prairie.

By the way, the Calgary groundhog (or Richardson’s Ground Squirrel, in our case) faced a dark shadow all day. According to the myth, we will have only six more weeks of winter. That places spring near March 20th. No big surprise. That’s what the calendar says, too.

Posted in Culture, or lack thereof, Ecology, Humour, Strange, Odd Stuff, Swarms | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Ozone and the Bees

Sitting in traffic, smelling everyone else’s exhaust (you know yours doesn’t stink), you begin to worry about the bees out there. They smell the fumes, too.  But if you look closely, you won’t see them gasping or coughing. That’s only because bees don’t have lungs. I just read a study about exhaust fumes affecting plants, so I’m less worried about the bees’ trachea and their spiracle outlets than I am about all the flowers and their ability to attract pollinators.

mustard in bloomResearchers planted some mustard seeds in a greenhouse, then added the equivalent of a Hummer to the mix. The pollution does something odd to scents given off by blossoming mustard. At a distance of 4.5 metres (15 feet), scent molecules from Brassica nigra (black mustard) are about one-third fewer. They have disappeared by combining with the ozone and turning into something that’s not attractive to bees. Maybe it’s a boiled cabbage odour, I don’t know, but ozone interferes with a flower’s natural scent.

Oddly, close to the flower, there is no discernible reduction in the scent, even with the ozone as dense as it is four metres away. Further away, the concentration of the nice flowery scent falls more quickly than it does in clean air. This spells trouble for bees. Especially bumblebees, which are guided more by their nose than any instructions they may receive from their buddies back at the hive. Honey bees are less affected than wild indigenous bumblebees because honey bees fly further and depend on scent less than most other bees do.

What’s the solution?  It looks like we may be headed towards cleaner air, especially with the popularity of electric cars (if they are powered by renewable sources, not coal).   That will help the bees. And us, too, if we are stuck in traffic on a busy highway.

Posted in Bee Biology, Ecology, Honey Plants | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Resistance is Futile

The ultimate 'Hive Mind'

Borgs: the ultimate ‘Hive Mind’

The Hive Mind, the idea that an entire colony operates like a single organism with one mind, is a notion that’s been picked up by people who don’t usually wear bee veils. Some of these folks are screenplay writers while others are economists.

On the TV tube, the mechanistic intergalactic Borg assimilated every culture they encountered, giving rise to their mantra “Resistance is Futile” – it was inevitable that the single-brained society of interconnected creatures which had been absorbed into the Borg super-colony would all eventual succumb to the super-being. Almost everyone encountered gave up their identity and become part of the greater good. Not that the Borg were portrayed as good on Star Trek. They were menacing and their chief claim to badness was that they ingested everyone else. Since words like colony, queen,  and hive mind were tossed around, the Borg gave bees a bad name.

Does a honey bee colony have a Hive Mind or does it have a leader? The colony seem to have something like a collective mind, but we still don’t know what causes it to act as a community when there is no leader or decision maker. Similarly, we don’t know why birds flock, fish school, sheep herd, or crows murder.  When a worker honey bee begins to build comb, it is an almost accidental incident. A flake of wax appears on her abdomen. She has to stick it somewhere. Another bee attaches a second piece, then another and another. When the second and third piece are fixed onto the first, it’s unlikely that the bees have an image in their mind about the final structure of the new wax comb. The image is not in any individual worker’s mind, but it does seem to exist in the collective hive’s mind, perhaps as an evolutionary habit, passed along in the bees’ DNA.

a hanging swarmA similar thing happens when bees decide to swarm. There are lots of physical inputs. Days are getting longer. The colony population is growing. Less and less of the queen’s limited swarm-suppression pheromone is distributed among more and more bees. Swarming occurs during nectar flows – all available space is filled with honey, contributing to crowding and congestion. There are few places left for the queen to lay eggs. Her body shrinks from her egg-laying hiatus, allowing her to fly with a future swarm. Scout bees return to share their discovery of a hollow tree as a future possible home. A lot of natural triggers work simultaneously.  Then, a brief spell of rainy weather keeps the bees stuck in their hive for a day or two. Finally, the sun comes out, it’s hot, humid, and flowers are dripping with nectar. The colony swarms.

Half the bees leave with their lighter, stream-lined queen. Scouts direct them to their new home. Which bees stay and which leave? It doesn’t seem to matter to the bees, except the queen has to be among the ones fleeing.  Researchers have marked bees in a swarm, then returned them all to their original hive. A few hours later, they swarm again. About half the bees stay the second time, replaced by sister bees who make up the new swarm. Each individual bee seems to decide to go or stay. Neither too many nor too few exit with the swarm. The big decision is made by the hive’s mind, not the individual bees’ minds. For all we know, the ones which leave are the ones which are nearest the hive’s door when the swarming starts. It may be that simple.

Wadey CraftsmanI first saw the phrase ‘hive mind’ years ago. It appeared in the 1943 book, The Bee Craftsman, by Herbert Wadey. The author was editor of a worthy British journal called Bee Craft. In his slim (116 page) book, Wadey asks, “What controls, guides, determines, the varying policy of the bee colony? Not the queen or a dictator; not a committee of elders.” Rather, Wade noted, “the bee colony has a collective mind….which determines the needs and which works out the way to satisfy them…often in less time than a human mind would need.” Throughout The Bee Craftsman, Wadey explains the organization of the colony in terms of the hive mind, telling us that “the Hive Mind is a strange and mysterious collective mentality.”

This idea comes back again and again. Books like The Mind of the Bees (L’Esprit des Abeilles, by Julien Francon) and Wisdom of the Hive (Tom Seeley, 1996), demonstrate how the collective acumen of the members of the colony makes decisions without designated decision makers. In the past, this approach has expanded to include other fields of study, notably economics.

bee socksEconomists have long described similarities between honey bees and human activities. There is “an invisible hand” in the market place assuring enough shoes, socks, and karaoke machines are manufactured each year. And these things are sold at a price largely determined by collective free-market bidding among all the people interested in foot apparel or in bar tab receipts. As with the bee making comb in her hive, our improvised choices contribute to the operation of a larger society.

In his book, Hive Mind: How your nation’s IQ matters more than your own, Garett Jones tells us that the joint efforts of humans are similar to the efforts of bees. “Millions of small cognitive contributions…create each nation’s collective intelligence, each nation’s hive mind.” Jones explains how – by simply being part of a successful nation’s hive mind – we can be successful ourselves, even if rocket science isn’t our long suit. If you are fortunate enough to reside in a rich, creative country, you might still be comfortable, even if you have a habit of poor personal choices.

Looking at a bee hive again, every colony member (even the least able) benefits from the level of the colony’s collective health and prosperity – and suffers when things go poorly. If a colony starves because the hive runs out of honey, all the bees die on the same day. There is neither hoarding nor selfish gorging. Members share equally until the food runs out. The ultimate hive mind.

Being part of a colony’s hive mind is not a conscious choice for any individual  honey bee. The bee simply obeys physiological rules governing her behaviour within the colony. Free will and choice do not exist for the bee. Resistance to cooperation – futile or otherwise –  is not even an option for members of a colony.

Posted in Bee Biology, Science, Strange, Odd Stuff | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Putin Likes Organic Food

Organically fed and free-ranging

Organically fed and free-ranging

Russia’s Vladimir Putin has suggested that anyone who sells or grows genetically modified foods on his turf should face a few years farming in Siberia.  He has proclaimed Russia will be GMO-free and he’d like to see his farmers raise their crops organically. He has declared war on Monsanto and its ilk, equating the company to an international terrorist organization. And you thought Putin was all bad.

I remember when George W. Bush met Putin for the first time, about 14 years ago, and Bush told us that he “looked into Putin’s eyes, and saw a trustworthy man.” Now we see it’s an organically fed, free-ranging trustworthy man. From Donald Trump, we are reminded “It’s never been proven Putin murdered anyone.” So, let’s see if we can glimpse the same good things. Let’s see what the news out of Russia is telling us.

Russia's steppes: lots of land

Russia’s steppes: lots of land

“Russia,” said Putin, will become “the world’s largest producer of healthy, ecologically clean, high-quality food.”  For now, he is just trying to make his country self-sufficient in food, a goal he hopes to achieve by 2020, according to Farmer’s Weekly. Russian has seven million full-time farmers (the USA has one million), yet the vast expanses of the steppes don’t currently feed Russia’s dwindling population. However, the 2020 goal will be easier to achieve if Russia’s population continues to fall. Russia had 148 million citizens in 1991, but dropped to 142 million by 2014. (Capturing Crimea in 2015 boosted the number by over two million – annexing is a clever way to reverse a country’s population decline.)

Population and agriculture have both been sliding in Russia, so rejecting western technology may be just the thing the politboro ordered. Back to basics could be the trick. It should go better than when Russia rejected Darwin during the Stalin years. Stalin trusted Trofim Lysenko with the nation’s crops. He was nominally a geneticist, but Lysenko rejected Darwin’s discovery of natural selection in favour of Lysenkoism. This contributed to Soviet crop failures. [You may find “When the Soviet Union Rejected Darwin” interesting.] Lysenko, a favourite of Stalin, believed that genes will change in one generation if the progenitor experiences environmental stimulation. In theory, this is similar to epigenetics, but in Stalin’s Russia, it was practiced quite differently.

1923 "Soviet Village" photo by Volkov-Lannit

1923 “Soviet Village” photo by Volkov-Lannit

According to Lysenko, chilling a wheat plant with ice would make its seeds create a trait that would make future wheat frost-proof. Chopping the tail off a cat would give rise to bob-tailed cats. Starving millions of Soviets would lead to a new, hardy, pro-Soviet generation of citizens.  Though easily disproved, the anti-Darwinian notion that environment directly changes genes was appealing to Stalin’s interpretation of Communist doctrine. The results were disastrous. Even today, Russian scientists (who excel in physics, engineering, geology, and chemistry) are dismal in genetics. In that field, they rank amid third-world countries in contributions and innovations.

Russian Honey (credit)

Pусский Mед (credit)

Russia may eventually feed its shrinking population while abhorring genetic modification. If the Russians can also go organic, it will be their biggest agricultural experiment since Lysenko’s day. For Russia’s honey producers, it should be a huge boon. True organic honey is scarce, mostly produced in remote jungles and on rocky mountainous slopes. Russia is huge, so creating a vast organic range would be fantastic for bees. Getting rid of agri-poisons should be an even greater benefit to bees and wildlife.

Back to Vlad ‘Granola Bar’ Putin. Is he sincere and trustworthy on his commitment to an organic, GMO-free Russia? Farmers will likely go along with his plan, considering prison could be the alternative. Russia’s Parliament is writing a bill for a full ban on GM crops by July 2017.  Meanwhile, Russian agriculture minister Nikolai Fyodorov volunteered that his government will not “poison its citizens.” Always reassuring words from any autocratic government.

putin winkWhat is Putin’s real motivation? Healthy, happy citizens? After nearly two decades in power, he has done little to achieve that. In 2012, Russia approved and registered eighteen GM food lines (soybeans, maize/corn,  potatoes, rice and sugarbeets) and fourteen GM feed lines (corn and soy for animal feed). Those 32 crop varieties were planted, distributed, and are somewhere in Russia’s ecosystem.  Putin’s anti-GMO stance is intended to oppose the west (specifically the USA) which has placed targeted embargoes on Russia because of its actions in Ukraine and elsewhere. “Russia doesn’t need the west’s poisons” is part of the message. This is about power and politics, not the healthy lives of any poor saps toiling under the watchful eye of Moscow.

Maybe the result will inadvertently be positive. Beekeepers will definitely prosper if pesticides are banned.  Russian organic honey should be much in demand when it hits grocery shelves in France and Britain in a few years. It will be interesting to see how this plays out – and whether Putin can be trusted after all.

Posted in Culture, or lack thereof, Ecology, Genetics, History, Pesticides, Save the Bees, Strange, Odd Stuff | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

The Honey Threshers

1930s Spirit River AB threshing crew

1930s Spirit River (Alberta, Canada) threshing crew.
Yup, we were still using draft horses here in the 1930s.

A century ago, threshing crews worked their away across the American and Canadian prairies, harvesting farmers’ grains. When I was rather young (not quite a century ago) one of my Saskatchewan buddies signed up for a threshing crew job. Maurice caught a bus to Texas where the wheat harvest began that year. He was one of fifteen young men who drove trucks and piloted swathers and combines for a custom harvesting company.

Like hungry locusts, the threshing crew would descend upon wheat fields and strip off thousands of acres of grain in a week. The farmers, of course, paid and fed the crew of custom combiners, but the farmer didn’t need to own big trucks or horrendously expensive harvesting equipment. Not every farmer used custom harvesting and today nearly all farmers own their own specialized machines. These are kept in sheds 46 weeks a year, then used by the farmer himself to gather the crop. I suppose – since the marketplace rules – it’s cheaper to own the equipment and do it one’s self than to hire custom harvesters. But in the days when bank credit was scarce and small farmers were struggling, hiring someone else to harvest was the only option for many.

There are a few reasons custom honey extracting was never a really big thing. Generally, the closest we’ve seen has been the sharing of an extractor, usually kept by one hobby beekeeper in his shed. Other hobby beekeepers would show up with a few supers and some pizza and extract at the friend’s shop. Typical pay for the guy who owned the extractor would be all the wax, maybe some honey, and all the pizza he could eat.

I used a similar system in Florida, forty years ago. It was on a larger scale, but the fellow doing the extracting was still paid in honey and pizza. Here was my situation: For about ten years, I produced a few thousand queen bees each winter. One year I unexpectedly also had a mess of honey. I took a couple truck loads of supers to a commercial beekeeper who extracted about 20 drums (12,000 pounds) for me. I drove almost two hours to get to his shop on Little Church Road and unloaded my boxes. He worked through the night processing my honey. I returned the next day to get my empty equipment, then a couple days later, I went back for my drums of honey, except for one that he kept as his fee. It was a lot of driving and it was modestly expensive. But I didn’t normally produce honey and didn’t own an extractor. The custom honey harvester had a neat, clean, and government-approved shop; I didn’t. And it had been an odd year with a nice surplus of orange blossom honey. Most years my mating nucs and cell builders were not so honey-bound. But that year, I had to handle some honey.

But, as I mentioned a moment ago, custom honey extracting never really caught on. There are reasons. First, the practice can spread American foulbrood. If infected equipment is extracted the day before processing your boxes, there is a chance of spreading disease to your equipment. The chance may be small, but foulbrood spores don’t always completely wash away with hot water. Even careful use of an extractor can spread disease.

The second reason custom extracting was never a big deals with timing. If my bees jam their supers, I need them off, extracted immediately, and returned to the hives as fast as possible. I’d be in trouble if the custom extracting shop is busy (because everyone else is also having a bumper crop and need boxes emptied quickly).

Cost, of course, is a consideration. Just as grain farmers have largely given up paying others to harvest for them, beekeepers would also be price wary. However, as honey house inspection requirements become more stringent and extracting equipment becomes more expensive, perhaps letting someone else handle extracting will become more cost effective. I was never happy looking at my expensive processing equipment in the off-season. From September to June, my uncapper, extractors, pump, and settling tanks just sat there, wondering if I had forgotten why I’d bought them.

A final reason that custom honey harvesting never really took off is because extractors aren’t mobile. They are not like the threshing crews of yore. You couldn’t expect a crew show up in your town with extractors in tow. Until now.

A Manitoba (Canada) beekeeper, working with an firm in Finland, has come up with a mobile honey extracting shop. Collin Stone’s company, International Honey Products Limited, could send a big van to your bee yard and extract your supers as fast as you pull them off the bees.

inside trailer Mobile extracting trailer

The system uses a crew of four who work inside the (CFIA/FDA) approved honey processing van. They handle 3200 pounds per hour. This is a hundred pounds from each of 32 hives in a typical yard. You remove the honey boxes, feed them into the magic van, then put the emptied boxes right back on the same hives. You can watch the video, below, to see how the thing works. The photo above is inside the mobile van in action. The picture to the left is the exterior of the extracting van.

A lot of beekeepers won’t recognize the advantage of extracting in the field. When I kept bees in Florida and Pennsylvania, a person never expected to pull honey and then rush empty boxes back for the bees to refill. The season wasn’t long enough and the flow wasn’t strong enough. You’d put a couple supers on the hive and consider yourself lucky if the boxes were filled once. But in some areas, the beekeeper is much more fortunate.

Four full supers off; four empties back on.

Four full supers off; four empties back on at one of my Saskatchewan yards in 1980.

In Saskatchewan, I usually pulled honey four times in the two-month summer. One year I had a 400-pound average. I gave the hives three or four boxes each. Every second week, I pulled off the full boxes and added three or four empties immediately. The empties were stacked towards the back of the truck. They came out of the extractor the night before. Fresh full supers were stacked towards the front of the flat bed while empties were set out. It was a lot to handle.

Advantages of in-field extracting include less wear on honey supers – boxes aren’t bounced down the dusty country roads where honey-laden frames sometimes break. The honey is cleaner (no road dust). There is less labour – you don’t load a truck in the field, unload at a shop, reload empties and then unload again at the bee yard. You can meet the honey wagon at your apiary – you arrive with just a passenger van and crew, not with a huge truck. The honey is extracted while it is fresh and warm, so you don’t need a hot room.  Honey in the barrels is from one known apiary, not blended from many, so product tracking is easier.  Fewer stray bees arrive to your house/farm – cutting down on the spread of varroa and family members’ stings at home. If you are just getting started in commercial honey farming, calling an inspector-approved mobile van reduces your initial investment. There are undoubtedly other advantages.

Will it catch on? Will there be a mobile extractor hot line that you can call? I don’t know. The issues I mentioned earlier – disease control, timing, and cost remain valid concerns. For disease issues, I would insist that the van operator inspect a few hives at each yard, check that the apiaries are certified inspected, and I would have the owner of the hives sign a waiver stating that he believes his bees are disease-free. This would help a lot.

The biggest hurdle with this system may be cost. The unit is priced at about $300,000. That may not be beyond the reach of large operators or companies that drive the honey wagon south to Texas or Florida for winter custom extracting, and then head to the plains and prairies for the summer crop. But for most of us, it just looks like a brilliant but perhaps unattainable solution to extracting.

mobile pulling honey

Mobile custom extracting system (International Honey Products) at harvest

The video below will answer some of your other questions. I particularly like the way they solved the potential problem of robbing in the field, one of the first issues that came to my mind when I saw the conveyor moving honey boxes through the open windows. Enjoy it!

Posted in Bee Yards, Beekeeping, Commercial Beekeeping, Honey, Strange, Odd Stuff | Tagged , , | 10 Comments

Winter Wonderland

Bragg Creek Mountains along road

Every month I try to meet friends in a village called Bragg Creek. It’s just a half hour drive from my home in Calgary. It gets me out of town and up close to the mountains. When I get there, three or four of us engage in mature, adult conversation. Bee talk.

The funny thing is that none of us actually live in Bragg Creek. We just meet there because it’s somewhat convenient for all of us (I’m the only one driving in from the big city.) And we like the Cinnamon Spoon (Alberta is known for its exotic spices and cutlery –  all of it imported, of course). The Spoon has decent coffee and good pastries and is cheap enough. In the winter, it’s not hard to get a table, though that changes dramatically in the summer when hordes of vacationers and noise-makers descend on the small alpine-ish village. Bragg Creek is not quite in the mountains, though they’re pines are close enough to smell.

My buddies are all serious bee folks. One friend at our sessions is a descendant of one of Alberta’s great beekeeping dynasties, a prairie bee business with thousands of hives. Her ancestors started keeping bees on their farm about 140 years ago when Alberta was part of the Northwest Territories. It wasn’t until 1905 that Alberta became a province of Canada. My friend’s family transcends all of that and it’s lovely that she has such a keen interest in bees.

I spotted these animals on my drive west, about 15 minutes from Calgary.

Also among our Bragg Creek Bee Club coffee drinkers and beekeepers is a skilled professional carpenter who has an uncanny breadth of knowledge about natural sciences in general and physics in particular. He occasionally brings physics experiments to the coffee shop, puzzlers that I can only pretend to understand. And I am nominally a geophysicist. Our table is further graced with the presence of another science/bee buff, a friend who is also a geophysicist. But the coffee talk is usually bee talk, not geophysics, and it’s great to have friends to bounce bee ideas off.

I hope you also have a group of like-minded characters who share an interest and meet in a similar self-help group occasionally. I won’t detail our club’s latest conversation, but it had something to do with honey bees. Meanwhile, I’m posting a few pictures from my drive from the southern edge of Calgary westward to Bragg Creek.  A wonderland of winter near the Rocky Mountains.

Bragg Creek farmhouse

Typical foothills farm near Bragg Creek, Alberta.

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Sherlock Holmes’ Birthday

Today, January 6,  is the fictional characters’ birthday. He would 162 years old, had he bothered to live so lived. In celebration of the great fictional detective’s fictional birthday, here’s a repeat of the piece I wrote to honour Sherlock Holmes. It’s a review of the recently-released movie, Mr Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes is more than an ordinary beekeeper – as you’ll find out in this summer’s new movie, Mr Holmes. I watched it at a Calgary theatre with my wife this evening. I’m glad we went. We don’t get out enough and generally find films too loud, too violent, too silly, or too sappy. Mr Holmes was none of these.

mr holmes78-year-old actor Ian McKellen (recently the wizard Gandalf in the Lord of the Rings trilogy) plays 93-year-old Sherlock Holmes, a long-retired detective. As many of you know, author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle forced Sherlock Holmes into a beekeeping retirement in the south of England. According to Doyle, Holmes toiled at bee farming and even wrote a popular beekeeping manual. The drama-mystery movie Mr Holmes (2015, BBC Films, et al.) stays quite true to beekeeping. The last film I’d seen that ties bees so nicely and accurately into the thread of a drama was Ulee’s Gold (1997, Orion Films). If you’re a beekeeper you will appreciate the finer details – the distinction between wasps and honey bees, the mystery of some disappearing bees, and the way Holmes lights his bee smoker with a roll cut from an old burlap sack. At one point in the movie, Sherlock Holmes took a book from his shelf and removed a significant photograph of a young woman. The book was Root’s 1945 ABC & XYZ of Beekeeping. I recognized it – I have the same edition in my own home library.

But don’t let me mislead you. This is not a beekeeping documentary. Or even a beekeeping movie. It is mostly a story of the redemption of an old man who regrets many of the things of his past and who is struggling to revive old memories. It’s a touching, well-acted drama. It’s not likely to stay in the theatres long, so get out and enjoy it with a friend or spouse before its run is over.

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