A few days back Farmer Husband and I took the honey supers off the beehives. We got 70 frames of beautiful, sweet, delicious golden honey from the hives. (About 240 pounds of honey!) I'm still draining the wax cappings for our honey enjoyment but everything else in the extracting process has been completed.
Well.... almost. An unexpected healing process has become necessary.
Yesterday afternoon, after I returned from some errands and responsibilities (and a fun lunch with a good friend!), I placed the now empty, but sticky and wet with honey supers on the Gator to return them to the bees for clean up. The bees usually quickly fix the hexagonal wax compartments that were damaged in the extracting process, move the honey that was still on the frames, and then begin to collect more nectar for refilling. Typically, the bees are mostly friendly and gentle (like the picture above). Usually, putting the supers back on a hive is a relatively uneventful process. One doesn't even need smoke. You simply crack the top open, remove the telescoping cover and place the wet super on top. Replace the cover making sure that the top entrance block is still in place and move on to the next. Simple.
But yesterday it was quite warm (86 degrees). But worse than the heat was the very sticky, oppressive humidity. Perspiration was dripping down my back, my tummy, my nose... I s'pose I didn't smell too nice. And perhaps the bees remembered that I (with the help of Farmer Husband) had just stolen all their early summer's work. I'm not certain. But what I am certain of was that one particular hive was most unwelcoming.
It was our biggest hive in the spring. We split it three times. But it was still big. It produced almost a third of the honey that we extracted. And we only had one super to put on top when we took their honey. So imagine sixty thousand relatives in a big house. All of a sudden the house becomes smaller. The cupboards are bare. The temperatures go up. The humidity makes collecting food stores unpleasant. And it's time for the house bees to make orientation flights around the hive. Introduce a wet, smelly intruder who looks an awfully lot like the robber from two days ago. What would you do?
Yes... and they did.
As soon as I cracked open the hive the buzzing frequency changed. That should have warned me. And actually it did but I thought, "I'll just quickly put the super on and move to the next one. They'll settle down as soon as they get more room and honey."
That's not quite what happened. Recall that I didn't bring the smoker. Usually the smoker masks the alarm pheromone that a bee would make. That way, if a bee shouts "Intruder!" no one really knows or cares. One alarmed bee is nothing. Hundreds of alarmed bees is another thing...
They pelted my suit. Bounced off my bee net. Curled up in a tight balls trying to get their stinger into some flesh. Four of them penetrated my suit at the left knee. The burning sensation of a bee sting is most unpleasant. And it keeps going until you get the stinger(s) out. So I needed to retreat. Time to go get the smoker.
After walking three hundred yards away from this most unpleasant hive I discovered that I had at least forty stingers in my gloves, arms, legs and chest suit. They were serious. This intruder was not going to get access to the hive. Thankfully, only the four had penetrated the suit.
I got the stingers out without difficulty. Redonned the bee suit and lit the smoker with some coals from the outdoor wood burning furnace. I didn't want to go back to the hive. I was a bit scared. I'm not used to bees purposefully defending their hive against me. They are usually gentle. But I had to go back. The lid was opened. The empty super was on the ground next to them. And I needed to button the hive up. So off I went.
I smoked all the stingers in my suit and gloves trying to mask the alarm pheromone. I smoked the hive until it almost looked like a fire. They were still upset but not as bad. And I was able to relatively quickly get the hive placed back together. I had only one hive to go. They too were a little unfriendly but the smoker helped and I was quick to return to the house. I peeled off the wet sweaty bee suit, drank about a half gallon of water and placed some 2.5% hydrocortisone that my Farmer Husband uses for poison ivy on my left knee. Today, the knee is still a little red and puffy but will be just fine. And the bees? We're leaving them alone for awhile.
Lesson learned? When dealing with bees in hot humid temperatures who have just lost their dinner and part of their home.... use smoke.
Today's Journey Joy - protective bee suits!
