So we harvested our first honey about two months ago, I was heavily pregnant and just managed to zip up the bee suit. We followed David Heaf’s notes on harvesting from Warré hives – making sure we were not going to rob our bees of their most precious winter honey stores. We only took frames that were almost entirely capped honey and only from our stronger hive colony (caught as a wild swarm in November last year). We used our smoker to extract the top-bar frames – we discovered to our frustration that some of the frames were fused to the box beneath – and had to cut them free. The bees were (rightly) unhappy with all the smoke and fumbling and disturbance. We did not really know what we were doing – let alone how to get the frames into a plastic tub and sealed without taking a lot of bees home with us, and worse without drowning or squashing them in the process! In the end we did get the frames packed for home, and oh were they beautiful… like pure gold when held up to catch the light.
We cut the capped honeycomb free from each frame and dropped them into a sterile plastic bucket which had holes drilled into the bottom and was resting atop another bucket (to form a sieve) – we then crushed the comb with a potato masher, covered it and left it to strain through in a warmish place by a window for a few days. The trickiest part was ever-so-slightly heating the honey to help it pour but not above 39’c (when honey is no longer “raw” and will dramatically loose most of its nutritional, antibacterial and anti fungal properties) – we left the bucket in front of our heater for a while, turning it every so often – till it reached hive temperature (35’c) and was more pourable. The second strain was then in a cheesecloth lined colander over a 5 litre jug for pouring the honey directly into our jars. All the leftover globs of virgin propelis and pollen was kept aside in a container for beeswax rendering and mead making (which is now happily fermenting as we speak!)
In all, we harvested about 9 kilos of raw honey and 1 kilo of virgin beeswax, with 6 litres of mead fermenting – it was a very sticky (albeit sweet) business, and a big learning curve for us. We see how we will manage things differently next time – but are so thankful to our bee friends for their efforts in producing such a beautiful, healthful, caramel, liquid gold…
p.s. a few jars of our raw honey are still for sale here.
Can there be a more delightful sight than a swarm of bees hanging from a suburban clothes line? Perhaps only the sight of your newly-captured swarm making a happy home in a handmade hive. Alex and I agree we could watch the bees fly in and out of the hive entrance all day long, and imagine what they are doing, discussing and debating inside its walls.
Yesterday I accompanied local beekeeping (and swarm-removing) enthusiast, Rei, in the safe recovery of a swarm that was hanging from a lady’s washing line – on her brand-new blue sweatpants no less. Rei showed me how to assemble a simple cardboard box with a frame of pure wax foundation inside to contain the swarm as it’s moved to another location. We rested the box on a garbage bin beneath the swarm and proceeded to “shake” the swarm into the box. Swarming bees are at their most docile (least likely to sting you) and quite happy to accept a new home. We left them in the box with a couple of entrances for the rest of the swarm to fly in. Then at sunset Alex and I returned to secure the box and drive back to the farm where our Warré hives are set up and ready. We used smoke to coax the last of the bees inside the box and taped all the entrances up (with plenty of breathing holes) before driving our with our boot-y of bees!
It was dark when we arrived at the hives. We worked in car headlights more clumsily than we would of liked – opening and tipping the cardboard bee box on the top of our hive using a spare comb box as a funnel for the bees to crawl down between the frames. In hindsight we should have prepared our smoker, and in a panic I got stung about five times on the hands because I was wearing gardening gloves instead of my leather ones and the bees were agitated at being shaken out into darkness. I haven’t been stung since I was a child and it was painful – like an intense swipe from a stinging nettle. Thankfully we got the stressed bees into the hive quickly and covered them overnight with a cotton cloth.
Alex returned the following morning (with the smoker lit) to check the swarm had accepted their new home and secure the quilt box and roof on top of the hive. He caught these beautiful photos.We will leave them undisturbed for two weeks before we check again – in the meantime we’ll enjoy the sight of our first farm animals – busy honey bees – flying in and out of their new home and happily “piping” their wings…
p.s. the clothes line swarm
We are so nearly finished with our first two natural bee hives – modelled on Emile Warré’s People’s Hive– a hive quite different from the conventional Langstroth and designed specifically to support the health and happiness of bees, while also being low maintenance for the keepers. The main differences are in the deep, square hive boxes and the use of top bars instead of pre-fabricated beeswax comb set in frames – the top bars allow the bees to build their own natural comb but have sides so the bees are guided away from the sides of the box (and can be removed without much effort). As the bees build comb downwards, additional boxes are placed below – the Queen and brood is not excluded from the rest of the hive. On the top of the hive sits a quilt box with a bag filled with wood shavings or pure wool to absorb moisture and help with the regulation of temperature (something which is exceedingly important to the bees) – then on top of that is a gabled roof to allow for increased ventilation – and in cold parts of the world act as a sloped roof to keep snow off. We used David Heaf’s “Natural Beekeping For All” for step-by-step instructions on how to construct each component.
We sourced our wood from a local timberman who milled cypress logs into planks. Alex then cut and assembled the boxes, quilt boxes and roofs using Tim Malfroy’s conversions for the Warré hive. We ordered top bars and two beetle repelling bottom boards. The outsides of the hives have been brushed with raw linseed oil – the inside we’d like to rub with a little pure beeswax. For the quilt box I sewed two square hessian bags which we filled with our cypress wood shavings. Now we just need to finish assembling the frames and find ourselves some honey bees! We recently joined a local club “the Woodend bee friendly society” and look forward to getting to know other enthusiasts, and assisting with some swarm catching as soon as they become available!
We also went to our first beekeeping field day put on by the Victorian Apiarist Association in Bendigo. We watched the opening of some hives and perused stalls of equipment and bee-related paraphernalia. We bought a stainless steel smoker, hive tool and emlock straps – plus a couple of sheets of pure beeswax foundation and honey from a local apiarist. It was sweltering hot and I felt a bit disappointed by it all – no stalls or talks relating to natural beekeeping or even native bees – instead that overwhelming focus on increasing production, honey yield, conventional methods of breeding/keeping/extracting, fear of colony collapse… Important to know of course, but not what interests me most about bees (or why we want to keep them).
When I was buying the beeswax I asked if I could only have 6 sheets – the man gave me a perplexed look and asked me what I was going to use them for (he is used to selling boxes of 150 sheets you see). I said they were for our two hives – a different design called “warré” that uses top-bars and lets the bees build their own comb and hence why we only needed a little bit of wax to get each box started. “No no, oh dear”, he said, “that just won’t do! You’ll end up with unhealthy hives! We make the foundation so that the bees don’t have to trouble themselves with comb!”
I smiled, thanked him, and walked on… and thought to myself – I want our bees to trouble themselves with comb – I absolutely do.
Read more about about Warré hives here.
About a month ago we took Milkwood Permaculture’s two-day course in natural beekeeping with master bee-keeper (warré hive extraordinare) Tim Malfroy. It was a wonderfully inspiring and informative course. We poured over information, facts, myth, statistics, building plans about bee keeping in a world that is so indebted to these mysterious winged creatures.
I came away with a desire not so much to “keep bees” as to learn alongside them. Tim took us on the second day to see a former student’s thriving apiary in inner-city Sydney. We were led around her house to her back garden – to the apiary – nothing fancy or overstated there – behind a wooden screen fence were two stacks of squarish boxes painted in pastel hues. Drawing closer I could heart a faint buzzing and see a flutter of busy wings about their entrance. Tim walked us through the process of lighting a smoker with cypress pine needles. He then opened up the hives to show us the natural comb which the Warré hive system allow bees to build – he didn’t wear any gloves or fancy gear – except a veil over his face. Bees don’t want to string you, Tim explained to us, they are simply trying to protect their hives; their queen, brood and internal heat necessary for their survival. I can only remember being stung by a bee maybe once or twice when I was a child. Knowing why and how and when bees sting has helped me understand their nature – and actually appreciate it more. Since taking the course I have noticed how often bees are categorised as “angry” (ie. wanting to sting you) in children’s books, cartoons, literature etc… How sad to reduce the nuances and wonderful work of bees to an emotion or a discomfort.
I could write more and more on the subject, but for now I will close by saying it was an honour and pleasure to learn about them – watch them at work – taste fresh golden honey from a natural comb… Our plan is to build two Warré hives and attempt to bait or catch a local swarm in this Spring/Summer season or the next. In the meantime we are looking around the farm for possible wood we can use for construction, and also trying to get our hands on Honeybee Democracy to learn more about the mystery and intelligence of the swarm…
Spring is here! We wander around the neighbourhood smelling jasmine-laden fences and lawns sprigged with freesias… we stretch out in the park blanketed in yellow grass flowers. Carefully we make crowns for our heads. We lie still for a moment to feel sun soaking into our cheeks, we hear a soft buzzing of bees around us. I watch those busy workers dancing, balancing, gathering up and moving on again…
Once we get down to Taranaki one of our projects will be to construct and care for the farm’s first apiary – with the hope to produce delicious raw, local honey! We are starting this adventure by taking Tim Malfroy’s natural beekeeping course with Milkwood next weekend. I know so little about beekeeping, as in, really not anything – but I am so excited to join the movement of people learning this art of understanding, keeping and nurturing one of the world’s greatest resources.
Which reminds me, have you seen Markus Imhoof’s film “More than Honey” yet? It provides a compelling, frightening and hopeful look into the state of bee-keeping today. We follow the work of an elderly apiarist in the wild swiss mountains, a “mass-production” apiarist who moves his bees by the truck-load around the USA – as well as the alarming lack of bees in Northern China, growing population of killer bees in America, and the health of our bees here in Australia.
The close-range camera footage of bees in flight and the intricacies of their hives is superb. Though I must warn you, some scenes are quite distressing. The film is in both spoken german (subtitled) and english and is a must see for everyone. Find it here.p.s. I’ve been playing around with bee shapes in my sketchbook. Mister bee, I wrote, an emblem of Spring… and also of reproduction, growth and the gift of honey…