From A to Bee Page 23

  Forgot to mention: despite the message I left yesterday for the bee inspector, it seems that he actually turned up to meet me. He called to say that he got my message too late and had already arrived at our house. That is surely going to count against me when we do finally get a chance to meet up. He agreed to pop back in a couple of weeks but I feel pretty bad about making him come all the way out to see me again.

  SEPTEMBER 9

  I spoke to a few of the beekeepers at the association today and explained my predicament. It seems that almost everybody has now extracted their honey and is enjoying the fruits of their labour. Many have been saying that it has been the best flow of honey for years. They all said that getting a jar or two in that first year is always a difficult affair, but starting as late as I did would make it practically impossible. This just confirmed what I feared all that time ago but was probably not willing to admit.

  A few were understandably sceptical of my motivations of trying to get a jar of honey and thought I was mad to go running around the country on the search. However, there were others who could see what I was trying to do and some suggested that I take a little bit from the brood stores. After all, if it was just enough honey for one small jar then it shouldn't affect the bees too much, especially if I planned to feed them as well. I had never considered this before but it gave me a viable backup plan. I wasn't particularly keen, but they had plenty of stores in the hive based on the inspection at the weekend so maybe, just maybe.

  Originally I was planning for a nice large jar of honey to put on the breakfast table but now I'm thinking about altering this plan. If there is not enough honey in the super and I take some from the brood box, I don't really want to take too much after all. I was given two of the smallest glass jars by Omlet as some of the freebies that came with the Beehaus. These weren't quite on a par with those tiny plastic jam or honey capsules you get in a hotel but they weren't an awful lot bigger. As they are glass, I am sure I could get away with calling these a jar. Perfect: my standards have lowered to an achievable aim and I wouldn't be affecting the bees too much.

  SEPTEMBER 12

  I made the decision to leave the hive at the Devil's Punch Bowl for a little while longer as I would like to give them the opportunity to take on as much of the heather as possible, so I had only the Beehaus to check today.

  I didn't see the queen but I did see that she had been laying recently, which was encouraging. There was one thing within the inspection that truly astounded me however; the 'waggle dance'. Now I have been doing plenty of inspections since I started back in June but I had yet to see a waggle dance at full throttle. It was fascinating. I thought originally that they just did a waggle and then disappeared to get on with other duties. Seeing a bee doing a waggle dance in a particular area and then moving across the frame a little to do it elsewhere, to then move again was really interesting to see. It probably explains how information can travel so fast through the hive. These magical little messengers were simply mesmerising to look at as they spread their good news.

  When I was watching this amazing dance I was struck by the thought that I hadn't used a lot of smoke on this inspection. Maybe I had been smoking them too much previously and it was probably like dancing through the smog-filled backstreets of London during the 1950s. They must have given up, thinking that the darkness is bad enough, let alone this smoke stuff.

  Regardless, it was lovely to see this dance for the first time in my own hive and not on a video of someone else's. Yet again I was reminded of how amazing they are.

  SEPTEMBER 13

  Something quite unexpected happened today. I have mentioned before that I live on a farm track. The farm at the bottom is owned by a gentleman by the name of Steve, a quite elusive character who keeps himself to himself. In fact, other than wave at him as he drives by our house, I have never really set eyes on him.

  From what I have heard from others, he isn't the nicest of characters and certainly he doesn't get on with Farmer Ray who lives opposite. Let's just say there is a lot of historical politics going on which has got quite unpleasant from what I can understand. So I was quite wary of meeting Steve, who by profession is actually a carpenter and had now turned his hand to farming. Imagine my surprise, therefore, when his car pulled up next to me as I was walking down the track.

  His big black van with tinted windows drew to a halt and the windows rolled down to expose a slightly gaunt face with aviator-style sunglasses. He must have been in his fifties and it looked like he hadn't had the easiest of lives. I am not sure how I can describe the greeting but it was certainly abrupt, and the entire conversation went like this:

  Steve: 'You're the beekeeper fella, aren't you?'

  Me: 'Yep, that's me, I just started this year and have a couple of hives, one is actually elsewh–' He cut me off.

  Steve: 'Good, I have several thousand apple, pear and cherry trees up there at the farm. If you want to put your hives there feel free. I asked the beekeeping association before but no one returned my call.'

  Me: 'Wow, that sounds amazing, yes, thank you. I am moving my hive back this weekend actually. Would it be OK to mo–' He cut me off again.

  Steve: 'The code is 1897 for the lock, make sure you lock it up behind you, I am having a problem with gypsies at the moment.'

  Before I could even say thank you and goodbye the window was being rolled up and he was accelerating at speed away from my standing position in a cloud of dust. I couldn't really work out what had just happened. Not only did he appear to confirm what most people had said about him in that he was rather curt and to the point, but he had also offered me an opportunity which was just unreal.

  Most beekeepers dream of a site like this, wherever it may be, let alone just up the road. I couldn't believe my luck but, if truth be told, I also couldn't believe that I had never seen this orchard previously; it sounded huge. I had to get up there before I went to collect the hive.

  SEPTEMBER 18

  I am trying to do lots of reading about how to get the bees ready for winter which I understand to be a combination of disease prevention and feeding. Aside from lots of finger crossing from the beekeeper, the bees need stores which they can call upon in the darkest depths of winter until the spring comes along once more. Apparently one of the most nerve wracking moments for beekeepers is during the warmer days in spring when they look for activity around the hives. This will tell them whether their hives have survived the winter as you very rarely check them when the weather is cold.

  There's not much else I can do at the moment, but it's going to start getting busy over the next few days as I prepare to extract some honey, whether from the super or the brood box, and move the hive back home again. However, this time I am moving them back to paradise. An orchard! What a lovely surprise that will be for them as they fly out the next morning… Actually, that is probably a lie as they are simply trees at the moment with no blossom. It's nice to think, though, that they will fly out, look at the trees, instantly recognise what they are and decide that this winter will be worth sticking out because spring will be a fantastic time with lots of blossom to be had.

  Before going to get the hive tomorrow I wanted to go and have a look at where I was going to put the hive. I have never been near Steve's actual house before as it is rather imposing and the two great big Rottweilers outside, looking like they would eat my arm off should I even look at them, never gave me a good enough reason to go and say hello.

  Therefore I got in the car, Sebastian by my side (thinking along the lines that if a man wouldn't hit another wearing glasses, dogs wouldn't eat an 'intruder' with a child) to make the small trip up to Steve's farm. I arrived and it was immediately apparent as I helped Sebastian out of the car that no one was there, not even the Rottweilers. The huge house, complete with now run-down outbuildings, was deserted in a rather eerie way. It must have been a huge operation at one point and from what I hear from Farmer Ray, it used to be a dairy farm; this may be where some of the confronta
tion lay, as it used to be Farmer Ray's home where he grew up. Now these outbuildings were all in terrible disrepair with fallen-in roofs, some of them covered in ivy. There were sounds similar to those you hear in Westerns or when you see disused airports in a desert and random mechanical sounds reverberate in the background. It really felt quite uncomfortable.

  I crept up to what I thought was their front door and peered through the glass windows to see if I could see any signs of life. WOOF, WOOF, WOOF!! The two Rottweilers leaped up at the door with snarling teeth, snapping in front of me. As I jumped out of my skin, Sebastian, on top of my shoulders at this point, simply went, 'Hello doggy, nice to see you doggy.'

  Having quickly left without so much as a 'Goodbye doggies', Sebastian and I went for a walk through the orchard. Most of it was behind the house, hence why I had never seen it before, but some of it touched the road where a huge embankment had blocked our view previously. It was like heaven, rows upon rows of beautiful fruit trees, probably planted three or four years ago looking at their size. There must have been at least a thousand of them and Sebastian and I just kept walking around looking at this wondrous sight. I cannot imagine how magnificent this must look in spring with all the blossom: it must be a sight to behold.

  As we continued walking we came across two slightly smaller orchards, again filled with fruit trees, evidently planted at a similar time. It was just beautiful and I left satisfied, though a little bit worried about how this was going to pan out. I didn't know where Steve wanted me to put this hive therefore I rang him on his mobile and found he was in the pub. He said to pop up a little later, at about 8 p.m., and he would show me where he thought it would work best.

  This worked out fine for me and so Jo and I got Sebastian all tucked up in bed before I popped out in the car once more. This time I tried his gate to gain access to the orchards from the other direction, which is ultimately what I will be doing tomorrow rather than going in via the house; I don't fancy carrying the hive all that long way. It unlocked first time, and on this beautiful September evening I made my way up to his house though the fields, the twilight of the dusk now surrounding me. Halfway there, down a dirt track, I saw Steve in front of me, with his eldest son by his side who was probably no more than nine years old. There he was, shotgun cocked and in his finest hunting regalia, and as I pulled up next to him he looked even more daunting than usual.

  I lowered my window, gave him a friendly hello and was met with three grunts as he pointed at three different areas of his vast orchard. Within a couple of minutes he walked off in the opposite direction and I drove off, feeling rather excited, in the general direction of his pointing and had a quick look.

  The first area looked a little too close to his house and so I discounted that immediately. If I was to expand the number of hives next year it wouldn't be entirely practical to have them too near the house and, if I am honest, I am a little bit worried about those dogs because if they got close it wouldn't be great for them. Their aggression would be no match for several thousand bees. The second option he had suggested was an area towards the back of the orchard which looked simply beautiful. On one side there was open fields and to the other was the orchard. I could see that in the springtime it would be stunning, but I also felt that it could be a little exposed. The third option was by far the best. Protected by a hedge and yet with a direct view into the orchard it looked fantastic. There was enough room for expansion and also it was far enough away from the house.

  I got out of the car and stood where I feel my hive will go tomorrow. It just feels right and I cannot wait to see what it will look like next year with the blossom out. I cannot believe how lucky I am to have this on my doorstep.

  Thinking ahead to tomorrow, I have only one slight fear; the thought of being stung again while moving the hive. I must remember to take it easy and not to rush. I just can't deal with the itching all over again.

  SEPTEMBER 19 – Sunday

  Another D-Day has arrived. I have enlisted the help of a good friend of mine, Jeff, who I recently heard had wanted to become a morris dancer therefore making me think he would be perfect for the job of going to get the beehive. Bearing in mind last time I struggled to lift the hive there was no way I was going to do it on my own this time.

  There is another ploy here as well. Jeff and I met when Jo and his wife, Kate, were both pregnant and attending these slightly unorthodox childbirth courses. While the adults on the course bonded over the hilarity of our course tutor's love of herbal medicine and its effect on childbirth, our children have also grown very close since. Sebastian and their little one William, now nearly two, have become inseparable.

  However, Jeff and Kate were brave enough to have gone for the second one a lot earlier and Luke popped out in June this year. Therefore my little journey with Jeff today is also to ask him a whole load of questions about how on earth he is coping. Bearing in mind he has bags under his eyes which give the impression he has been out shopping for the whole of the country, I am not looking forward to the feedback I might receive. Even so, I need to know what having two children is like and this is the perfect opportunity.

  We left early on a slightly autumnal-feeling morning. I can't believe it is coming around so quickly again. It was absolutely beautiful at that time of the morning, however, and there wasn't a soul around. Hopefully it would be early and cold enough that the bees wouldn't have started flying around yet.

  We found the turning and got down to the hive pretty quickly. Looking around it was evident that the cows had been moved on again, just as my bees were about to. In the distance I could make out my hive and all looked quiet.

  I had mentioned to Jeff that I only had one suit and was happy to give it to him while moving but the first job was to secure them in the hive once more. I pulled out my mess of a contraption to do just this. It looked like one jumbled heap of masking tape and tea towel but it had seemed to do the job. I approached the hive and all was silent. I quickly attached the entrance block, securing the mass down with drawing pins once more. It was all over in a matter of seconds, which was perfect.

  I gave Jeff my suit and the move went pretty smoothly. I had left the ratchet mechanism in place so we just lifted it all straight into the car. The good news was that the hive seemed that little bit heavier than when I had lifted it into position previously. Perhaps there was hope. Within five minutes of getting there we were driving back out again and I was feeling rather pleased with myself as there was not a sting in sight. Result.

  We arrived back at the house in good time and rolled up outside Steve's gate. In no time we were standing in the same place I had been not even twelve hours earlier. Jeff and I first had to move a honking great piece of limestone into position to provide a solid base for the hive to stand on. I wanted to give this hive a good foundation. Who knows if I would ever move it again, and so I wanted to give it the right start.

  With Jeff and I both puffing loudly, we managed to manoeuvre the limestone into position and the stage was set; it was time for the hive. We positioned the hive stand and then the hive on top. It looked wonderful. There is nothing nicer, in my humble opinion, than seeing a beehive in an orchard. I wasn't sure about bringing my freezer box of a hive in here as it might not look as good, but this hive was spot on. I couldn't help but smile.

  It just left me to open them up and welcome them to their new home. I was excited, perhaps overly so and because I had given Jeff the bee suit, I opened up the entrance block and just ran as fast as I could back to the car without looking back. It was perhaps a tad dramatic but I didn't want to take any chances given the way the bees had reacted last time.

  I knew that very shortly I would be back up to take a look inside. In fact, thinking about it I will probably leave them a bit and open it up for the first time in a few days when the bee inspector comes around. Here I am, about four months into my career as a beekeeper and I am about to be inspected: scary stuff.

  SEPTEMBER 22

  The
inspector, Alan, arrived. I very carefully peered out of the window as he walked up the path. I couldn't believe it. There I was yesterday scouring the web for a photo of an American drill sergeant to add to the text of my blog and here was one walking down the path toward the house. He had the heavy boots on and the hat was an exact match. That was where the comparisons stopped, but I had a good giggle at the hat.

  As I opened the door, he was immediately friendly and helpful, putting me at ease as he explained what was about to happen. Alan wanted to crack on and so we headed straight up to the Beehaus as it was closest. I didn't really know what to expect from this inspection but he immediately got stuck in looking around for any varroa – there was barely anything, which is a relief – and all the signs from the hive were good. He did suggest I remove a couple of frames from the hive as they hadn't been drawn out yet. This would allow the bees to concentrate on building up stores rather than wasting energy building up frames. In a flash it was over; this inspection seemed a lot more straightforward than I thought.