To Bee or Not to Bee

I remember the first time I was stung by a bee. I was thirty years old and walking across a lush thick grassed meadow in the Cook Islands in my bare feet. I didn’t see the bee and I guess she didn’t see me. But when I trod on her she did what bees are programmed to do. She launched the ultimate sacrifice and released her sting into the sole of my foot to guarantee that I at least would remember her passing.

I howled like a baby. Partly because I have a comically low pain threshold but also because I was on a remote pacific island and couldn’t be sure that I hadn’t trod on a creature with more fatal consequences. Thankfully my host at the time was able to confirm that it was a simple bee sting and administered a local poultice which relieved the pain in minutes.

I had reached this venerable age without a sting, not through luck, but through avoiding animals in general. I would cross the road if I saw an unleashed dog coming towards me and wave my arms like a manic orchestra conductor if a bee came within twenty metres. It’s not so much that I’m not an animal lover. I passionately hate a lot of species (the entire rodent population for example) and range from dislike to passive disregard for the rest. If truth be told, I’m not that fond of most Homo Sapiens either.

So, you can imagine how I felt when my wife told me that she was in advanced negotiations to procure a fully stocked beehive. Love conquered fear in this case and I acquiesced, although she was getting it from her Dad and it was in the back of our car before I noticed. Her Dad lives 144km from our house, so we had a scary two hour drive back with 20,000 bees on the back seat. They say the best way to expose your fears is to confront them and maybe they are right. That was probably the longest car trip of my life and every movement of hair on my head caused a momentary panic as I assumed the insect hoard had escaped their bondage and where heading my way.

When we got home, I helped carry the box of bees up to their new home with no more protection than a tee shirt and a pair of shorts. It was one of those situations when no alternative was available. The bees couldn’t stay in the car and 20,000 bees in a hive is actually quite heavy and not a job for one person.

Since then, I’ve left them to their own devices. They are far enough from the house not to bother me and they more or less look after themselves. That all changed last Sunday. I got a text from the missus to say that the bees had swarmed. She followed up with a few photos. Swarming is a process that happens when they get fed up of their digs and set off for pastures new. Most often it’s caused by a new Queen who tries to take over the existing hive, gets her ass kicked and heads off in a huff with half the colony.

The biggest fear in this scenario is that the swarm will land in a neighbour’s garden, particularly in the garden of one of those neighbours who weren’t all that happy about having bees in the area in the first place. The other fear is that they land in an inaccessible place, like the roof or near another bee keeper’s property. The salvage rules in the bee world are similar to those on the open sea. If a hive is found in a public place, it’s finders keepers.

Thankfully, in our case the swarm landed in our back yard and attached themselves to a wall above our flower beds. It’s handy being close to your food supply I guess.

But my wife was in a panic. She was on her own and had no protective gear. I had a dilemma. I had bought her a bee keepers outfit for Christmas and didn’t want to ruin the surprise. But needs must and I explained where I’d hidden it in the house. By the time I got home, she had managed to shovel them all into a box. And there they remain to this day, about two metres from the back door.

Bees are a fascinating species. They have an internal GPS system that allows them to find and return to the best feeding places and to find their way home after a 5km daily forage. That’s why you can’t move them more than 30cm at a time. Otherwise they act like tired holiday makers returning to the long term car park and wondering where they left their car.

You will notice from this missive that I seem to have built up some knowledge and interest in this particular species. I have to admit that I’m a little smitten. I find nothing more peaceful than sitting on the deck of an evening and watching all the little fellas come back from their days work and fight to get into the hive. When it gets hot many of them like to cling to the outside of the hive in a process known as bearding. When they cover the entire hive, it’s actually quite beautiful but also an indication that the hive is over extending itself. That’s one of the problems of bees. When they are healthy they keep expanding and then you need to find a friend or neighbour who will take half your colony off your hands.

I think the reason these have become the first animal I like is because you never have to touch them, feed them or pick up their pooh. But I know how long this love affair will last. The first time I get stung, that hive is going straight back to my father in law.