Extracting in the comfort of the Dower House...

One of the problems of a cold house is that honey doesn’t flow once summer is over. As extraction time is generally in the autumn it means I either have to be quick or leave the supers on the hive until spring. This year I was late taking the supers off and ended up with them in the house. A problem with my manual extractor meant it was taking half an hour to extract four frames and even then a fair bit of honey was still in the cells. It seems the basket needs to be lifted slightly so the cogs connect but until I can get it taken apart and checked, I have had to stop extracting.

Record breaking cold weather in December didn’t help either, so the honey has sat in the front room since it came off the hive. Thankfully, as a member of Manchester & District Beekeepers Association I have access to a pretty good set of equipment in a good-sized, purpose-built room in Heaton Park. They have everything there: a warming room, uncapping tank, electric extractor, various filters, and big sinks. So last week we popped down and left our four remaining supers in the warming room so when we went back this week they’d be easier to extract.

Two hours sounds like plenty of time but when you have to cut the cappings off each frame, a total of twenty, then load the extractor, spin for ten minutes, empty and repeat, then time disappears. Cleaning everything afterwards took over an hour so we were over time by the time we’d finished. But it was worth the sweating to get it all done. Due to a memory lapse, where I didn’t record how much was extracted from the first super of the year, the official amount of honey we recorded from last year is probably a few pounds lower than the actual amount, but at 170lbs (that’s 78kgs in new money) I think that’s not a bad season’s harvest for only two hives.

I am glad now I bought a gross and a half of jars, so at least we have somewhere to put it. All I have to do now is jar it up before it sets, otherwise we’ll be eating it out of a bucket.

Odd uses of a flowerpot...

I am almost at the end of my second season as a bee keeper and was tying up the rampant honeysuckle to the trellis when another plot-holder shouted me, pointed at the new hive and then promptly locked himself in his shed. There was a mass of bees flying above the hive, many more than the normal daily activity so I wandered over to have a look. Bees were pouring out of the entrance and, when they’d more or less all exited, moved as a cloud across the allotments and settled in the highest tree they could find.
There was nothing I could do then, so I finished off the plot jobs, called at the house (in whose garden the tree was) to apologise and let them know I was coming back, then went home for a bite to eat and to assemble a brood box and equipment to house the swarm. We returned around 5.30, just as the rain started. After some difficulty getting the ladder up to the tree, a manoeuvre which included dropping it on my head, I finally got it positioned and started to climb.

In the textbooks, collecting a swarm is a piece of piss. In reality, 20’ off the ground, trying to hold onto a wobbly ladder, a spray, a sheet and a cardboard box and shake the tree to dislodge the colony, it’s anything but. I soon got rid of the spray, dropping it into the thick grass. Next I cut a couple of little branches to get the box in position, then I whacked the trunk. Nothing. A slight buzzing but no movement. So I shook the tree harder. While some of the bees dropped into the box, plenty more decided it was time to fly. I got back down to the ground and put the box onto the sheet, propping open an entrance. When I looked up, most of the bees were still where they were: on the tree. By now I was sweating like a pig, a mixture of nervous energy and adrenalin-fuelled fear. Grabbing a large flower pot, I went up again, managed to get the pot under another large hanging cluster and, again, shook hard. This time they dropped with a plop and I got stung in the process. I don’t think I ever got down from a ladder so quickly. I threw the rest of the bees into the box and then left them for the night, not hoping for much.

The next day the bees were gone from the tree and were clustered in the box so I decided I probably got the queen. Now I just had to get them out of the box and into the hive.

And the easiest way to do this? Shake them out. So I did. Mostly all over the floor but some of them went into the hive. I arranged the sheet (bought in India ten years ago and, until now, unused) so they could use it as a little ramp to get into their new home.

Then, slowly but surely, the remaining bees walked into the hive. I've heard about this before but this is the first time I have witnessed it and it is, indeed, fascinating; watching them all plod up the cloth and in through the hive entrance.

After about an hour they were all, more or less, inside. The feeder was filled with sugar syrup so they don't starve, and the roof put on.

I can only hope, now, that the queen is inside and in one piece. I have to check the hive they swarmed from, to see what is going on in there, but as there were a lot of wasps buzzing round I decided to leave it for another day. I don't like wasps at all and, even though they were sneakily robbing the honey, I still found it unsettling.

This my first swarm experience and I learned a lot from it. The hand that was stung swelled up dramatically over the next day but, two days later, is going down slowly. I am glad it was only the one sting! Now all I have to think are the robbing wasps and the three colonies I now have. I don't have any more equipment and some of the boxes on one hive don't fit properly, leaking when it rains. I will have to reduce my stock down to two for the winter.

Thanks to Agnieszka for moral support and photos, I'll try to keep the bees out of your hair.

The sticky has landed

After much messing, we finally got the honey into jars.

Agnieszka decided to clean the pan herself, which saved me a job.

Stickier than Sticky the stick insect's sticky situation

There has been quite extensive coverage over the summer of the threat faced by the bee population from disease, varroa mites and Colony Collapse Disorder with a prediction that English honey will run out by Christmas and that, without significant increases in the research budget into bee health, bees may disappear entirely within ten years.

I know a number of beekeepers who emerged from last winter with severely reduced colonies, or none at all, and the whole bee year has been much slower than usual. As a late starter, getting my colony at the beginning of July, I was quite prepared just to build up the strength of the hive and get it ready to go into winter in a good position. I was fully resigned to the fact I might not get any honey this year but a late burst of warm and sunny weather has meant that my colony has improved beyond all expectations and furnished me with my very first honey crop.

On Sunday me and Agnieszka went to the Dower House to extract the honey from the 25 frames our bees had produced. This is in addition to the super I have left for them as winter stores. They have in excess of 30lb of capped honey which should be plenty to see them through until the sun starts to poke its thin, watery fingers through winter’s gloom. That point seems a long way off but for now we have honey to see us through.

Extraction is made easy at Manchester beekeepers because we have the use of good equipment in a purpose-built room which is, as any of the people who run the club will tell you, the envy of every other beekeeping association in the land. Despite the range of equipment, you still get sticky. Very sticky. Here’s why.

First you put on a protective coat, so that the stickiness goes on that.
Then you use the uncapping fork to take the wax caps off the frames of honey.
Place them into the extractor, where they are spun until the honey is ‘flicked’ out, taking care to load it evenly, otherwise broken frames and bouncing machine is the result.
Pour out the honey into buckets.
Clean everything.

I thought I did quite well, only washing my hands about 50 times and getting it on my trousers, shirt and up my sleeve. It’s now all over the door handles and steering wheel of the car and just about everywhere else. By the time we have everything cleaned, it’ll be near enough time to do it again. Thanks to Agnieszka for doing most of that while I was faffing about.

So how much did we get? Well, we filled almost to the top, three 15lb buckets, plus three jars from the cappings (another 4lbs). considering some people haven’t had anything this autumn, I think I did quite well but am wary of something I read in a gardening book: beginners do well in their first season because they are careful, they don’t know much and they take pains to get it right. In the second season, they know more, experiment more, make more mistakes and thus don’t produce as much, be it veg or honey. So I must be careful to carry on practising good hive hygiene, careful management and be open to new techniques and ideas. That way my bees will be happy and I will carry on having a fascinating and productive hobby for years to come.

Pierwszy dzien pszczelarza

It wasn't without some nerves that I went up to Harwood on Saturday night to collect my very first colony of bees. They'd been left outside on a table and, when I removed the lid, they were all sat quietly, helped by the dull and cool evening air. When I picked them up, they started to buzz but a gentle kind of murmur rather than an angry whine. Settling them into the boot we set off for the allotments and their new home, me driving carefully so as not to upset them, Agnieszka quiet, saying occasionally that she could hear a buzzing, both of us checking in case any escaped.

Luckily none of them did and we arrived safely and, after donning my full gear (and feeling a bit of a tit as the bees were so quiet and uninterested), I installed them in their new position. As soon as I took out the foam block and replaced it with the entrance block bees came out, flying backwards to check the position of the hive before going round and round it to imprint its position on their memories. A slightly nervous night followed, where I worried about their safety: were they ok? Taking the sugar syrup? Finding their own nectar? I needn't have worried, as my next visit on the Monday night showed they'd definitely found, and emptied, the feeder, and were happily bussing in and out of the hive. Now all I have to do is keep them from swarming and hopefully they'll produce a frame or two of honey for us later in the year.
The box in the back of the car after jolting its way from Bolton. A few dead ones in the bottom but generally they seemed ok.

The hive on its stand on the allotment site, ready to have the travelling screen and foam travelling block removed and the feeder added.
Getting ready to go in. As it turned out, I didn't need all the gear on, but as a beginner it is better to be safe than sorry I think.
Giving them some smoke before taking off the screen and re-assembling the hive.

Since then I have visited only once, to top up the sugar syrup and look forward to doing my first proper inspection this weekend. If only the weather would improve, then they can get on with what they do best - making honey.