1. Editorial
This season, as a football commentator might say, has been a game of two halves. In June I was writing that 'Unless we get a poor second half to the season I have high hopes for the honey harvest in August'. Now I have to say that much of the weather in July and August was so unseasonable that there has been little development in my hives since then. To add injury to insult I returned from holiday a week or so ago to find my bees being besieged by wasps, who seem to have had a very successful time this year, no doubt helped by the abundance of soft fruit in the garden. A small nucleus that I had hoped would grow to a useful size before the winter has disappeared, presumably completely robbed out by the wasps. The priority therefore has been to remove the remaining supers for extraction and to close up the entrances, so making it easier for the bees to control access.
Robin Hall's message below is a reminder that the pyrethroid-resistant varroa mite marches steadily on and we must all assume that it will be in our colonies sooner or later. Having only used Bayverol/Apistan for mite control up till now (and drone-brood culling of course) I am going to try the thymol based Apiguard this time. This requires an ambient temperature no lower than 15/16º C to allow the evaporation of the active ingredient to take place, so will need to be done soon. Then feeding where required, remembering that the winter syrup needs to be a 2:1 mix i.e. 2lb sugar to 1 pint of water (or a metric equivalent).
My experience has been that no two seasons are ever the same and that every year there is some unexpected event that drives a coach and horses through my springtime dreams of perfection! How about you? It would be interesting to hear how this season has been for other members. What triumphs have you had? What adversities have you overcome? What good intentions are you now thinking about for next season? Write in and share your experiences.
2. Next Meeting
The new season of indoor meetings starts this month with a presentation by Ron Hoskins, who is a member of the BBKA executive committee. His talk is about the future of beekeeping with the BBKA and provides a rare opportunity for the Association's members to hear about important trends in British beekeeping. Some of you, I know, have strong views about the activities of the BBKA and this is your chance to ask questions about, for example, the policy of our national association towards the licensing of GM crops, the links with pesticide manufacturers, progress on the treatment of pyrethroid-resistant varroa, the implications of EU legislation for the future of beekeeping, decisions about the financing of BBKA from members contributions and so on. So, join us next Wednesday, the 8th September, for what promises to be a sparkling start to the autumn programme. If you have not been to an indoor meeting before, the venue is the Rosa Room at Radbrook College in Shrewsbury and the starting time is 7.30 p.m.
Please note also that the October meeting is our AGM when the Committee for the coming year will be elected and ideas for the development of our Association will be welcomed for discussion. More information about this next month.
3. An Important Message from Robin Hall RDI
This is to let you know that resistant varroa mites have been found in the 10km square SJ52 (Wem), which is adjacent to the resistant cases reported last year. Will beekeepers please check their bees for resistant mites using either the Beltsville test or the Bee Unit 'beaker' test. Results should be sent to the Bee Unit and should a sample show resistant mites, this information should be notified to the Bee Unit. It would also be useful to share this information with members of your Associations. I gather that very few tests have been made by beekeepers in Western Region as a whole so in a way I am not surprised that we have found another patch close to the original patch found last year. When beekeepers are asked whether or not they have tested their hives for resistant mites, some typical responses are:
Coupled to the above is the sad fact that we have seen very few hives where the beekeeper has substituted a shallow frame for a deep in the brood chamber so that the subsequent drone comb built below can be cut off. This drone comb can attract up to 80% of varroa mites in the hive at the time. Open mesh floors also have a part to play and it is said that up to 20% of varroa mites that emerge fall from their hosts or comb with 3-4 days of that emergence. These two bio-technical methods coupled with using Apiguard, could give a sufficient break, over years, to allow the scientists to come up with a 'magic bullet'. Can the craft of beekeeping suffer another knock like the one some years ago when varroa mites first 'hit' us and 30-40% of beekeepers lost their colonies? Fortunately it's not all doom and gloom. There are beekeepers who are trying very hard to be in control of the present situation. When we see this, it is very heartening.
Regards, Robin.
4. Now I Know How a Drone Feels
A true story by Ian Postles.
(This article has just been published in BeeCraft but is of such general interest and importance that it deserves further circulation here - Ed)
Have you ever had the feeling, the need to scratch, the need to find somewhere where no one will notice what you're doing, just anywhere, but quickly, somewhere you can scratch your backside? No, OK let me tell you. That's how it started, a tremendous overpowering itch. This is an itch you have to respond to, one you can't ignore, in the end, one you have to deal with and social graces simply do not matter.
We keep our bees for all sorts of reasons and our demise are not one of them but let my tale be a lesson to you. Be warned you might die this day.
I'd gone to collect another swarm to progress from two to four colonies, the big time beckons. But I'm new and reckless, unwise and ill prepared. I've got two cardboard boxes some industrial tape and string, what more do I need? Oh yes, my goose wing. When I arrived the job was done in no time, two swarms into the boxes, just have to wait for the stragglers. My benefactors like all beekeepers I've met so far were very easy and interesting to chat to over coffee. Now all that's left is to seal them up and off we go. When I return 30 minutes later the buggers are all over the box but on the outside! As soon as I started to sweep them in with the wing I knew I'd made a mistake I just didn't know what size of mistake.
The first sting was to my right hand then my left. God that pheromone works fast they're all over my neck and face now. In my two years of providing homes for bees I've been stung 5 or 6 times same intense pain on penetration, same swelling but reduced itching each time. What they say is true, you get hardened to it. At the time it didn't occur to me but I can't remember that smarting pain this time despite a large number of stings. It took no more than 5 minutes to don the suit, parcel them up and put them in the boot. During the farewells I would happily have killed to scratch my bum, never mind the killing I did it anyway.
It was 10 miles home but in half a mile I was desperate. It was in my armpits now, that insatiable hot itch, now my ears and now my hair. I rubbed and rubbed and realised something is wrong. I tried to tell my father in law some thing was wrong but couldn't. It was as if my jaw had been anaesthetised. It's all moving fast now. My tongue is swelling; it's hanging out of my mouth. I'm sweating and now I'm half way home and going away from the hospital but if I put my foot down I'll be there in a few minutes. I wouldn't have done 110 on the Nesscliffe bye-pass if I hadn't known I was in a mess. I can't close my mouth and my tongue is so big I can't breath and my face was so swollen my eyes were closing. My arms and legs have pins and needles. My father in law thought I was going to drive into the hall before I fell out of the car at my front door. Little air was getting in but loads of liquid was coming out of my mouth and I had no feeling or control of my limbs. I remember the feeling exactly, it was as if they were hollow rolls of paper.
Dianne didn't need to understand my garbled foaming grunts and tried to get me to her car but I knew I wouldn't get to hospital. My words didn't sound like "ambulance" to me either but she got the point. I can't open my eyes now. In two or three minutes the paramedic was there and injecting the adrenaline. Great stuff that adrenaline, the swelling started to reduce almost immediately, I can see and breath again. Five minutes latter I'm just as bad, no worse. Even with three shots more I was unconscious by the time the ambulance arrived at casualty.
Anaphylaxis, what a strange nonsensical reaction. Your body effectively shuts down in an attempt to survive and if you do it remembers and will undoubtedly repeat the process if you are stung again, only quicker. Funny thing is, when I came round I felt fine. They say two or three minutes more and there wouldn't have been any feeling. Now the quack says it's a no-brainer, one sting now and I'll have about 4 minutes. What would you do?
Kit up, carry a phone and anti histamines, at least, an apipen at best, you might not be so lucky.
<(Ian Postles is one of our Oswestry members).
5. A Visitor from Abroad
Whilst looking in one of my hives on Angelsey, I came across a Death's Head Moth. It often visits beehives for honey but for some reason on this occasion the bees had killed it and started to propolise it.
The Death's Head moth is very large with a wingspan of 135 mm and a body length of 60 mm. It is clearly identifiable by the skull-like markings on its thorax. This moth was taken to Bangor University, where an expert was excited because it was only the second that he had seen.
The Death's Head moth is an immigrant from Europe and is normally recorded in small numbers in the South and East of England. Perhaps this is another example of global warming.
(Gordon Hartshorn)
6. Bees Clean Up
Michael Hopkins [Ethology 110, 1 - 10(2004)] (From Scottish Beekeeper, April 2004, Courtesy BEES)Honeybees need to keep themselves clean - not least because their wings can become clogged by dirt, which hampers flying. But as anyone who has had a troublesome itch knows, some areas are more difficult to reach than others.
Benjamin B. Land and Thomas D. Seeley have carried out a detailed investigation of the 'grooming invitation dance', by which one bee solicits a helping hand from another. This behaviour is distinct from the 'waggle dance' used to point fellow workers towards food.
Land and Seeley's first approach was to film bees in the hive. In the grooming dance, they found, a worker vibrates her body from side to side about four times a second, sometimes stopping to groom herself with her legs. In two-thirds of cases, another worker sprang to the grubby bee's aid and began grooming her. Such helpful behaviour was always preceded by the dance and workers always touched the dancer with their antennae before beginning to groom, suggesting that the signal is transmitted by touch.
Bees can't reach the bases of their own wings. Is this the reason for the dance? To find out, Land and Seeley puffed chalk dust onto the wing bases of workers. Sure enough, dusty bees produced more dances than control workers puffed with air.