Are their ethics loose in the package too?

This e-mail came in today. I’m interested to see if you agree with my answer or have a better idea.

I just installed my first package a week ago into a top bar hive. The queen was dead in her cage and I was told this usually means there is a queen in the package loose, so give it 3-5 days and see what happens. The weather immediately took a turn for the worse, with days in the 50s and nights below freezing. At first we saw some bees making flights, but over the past few days, nothing.

Due to the cold weather, I haven’t had a chance to take a look until today, exactly a week from when I installed them. The bees are all clustered on the floor of the hive. The cluster is just about the size of a baseball. They hadn’t discovered the sugar I’d put behind the follower, no comb has been built, and there’s signs of defecation inside the hive (3 or 4 spots of bee poo on one wall).

I moved the sugar in next to them instead of leaving it behind the follower, and lightly dusted the cluster with it so they have at least a little something to eat that they can’t help but find.

My question is, what next? If I need to order another package, it needs to happen asap, likewise if I just need to order a queen. The next several days are supposed to be gloriously warm and sunny, with more moderate night time lows. Do I wait another few days and see what happens? Should I go ahead and order a whole new package? Order just a queen?

The place I got the bees from says they have no idea about bees in top bar hives, so they aren’t any help!

Andrea

Andrea,

Whoever told you that a dead queen in her cage meant there is a queen loose in the package was either ignorant or lying. And anyway, even in the remote chance there was a loose queen in the package, you paid for the one in the queen cage and she should be alive and healthy.

With the queen dead, and no way of making a queen, the colony is just dying. It is hopeless. At this point, you need a whole new package including the queen. If the queen in the cage was dead and they sent you home without a replacement, they owe you a whole new package, including a live queen, at no extra charge.

In the meantime, put starter strips in your top-bar hive, if you haven’t already. Also, it’s not clear if you gave them solid sugar or syrup, but it should be syrup. Without lots of food they can’t build comb. So make syrup and add an attractant like lemongrass oil or anise oil so they can find it easier.

Next time, attach the queen cage to a middle bar and leave her in it a few day until comb building begins.

Andrea, I’m going to post this on the front page to see what other people think. I hope they agree.

Good luck, and next year get your bees from someone else.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

The big bad dirty

I do not recall the exact wording, but it went something like this: “Do you agree that urban bees are healthier because they have fewer mites?” A trick question that can’t be answered yes or no, it made me want to scream. Oddly, I do remember my exact response, but I will spare you.

It’s hard to know where to begin disagreeing. Healthier than what? Fewer than whom? Are we comparing urban bees to suburban bees, prairie bees, forest bees, or monoculture bees? And who said they are healthier? Who said they have fewer mites? Show me some studies, some numbers.

Do people really believe that the spot where they plop down a hive determines the health of the colony? If all urban bees were healthier and had fewer mites, don’t you think just a few people would start overwintering their hives in the nearest metropolis? It just isn’t that simple.

City folk seem to think the big bad dirty is rural, and rural folk think the big bad dirty is urban. And for some reason, neither side realizes there is middle ground, that there are vast areas without cities or big ag.

If anything, I think big ag is more aware of bee problems than big urb. Growers know pesticide contamination is problematic, they know monoculture diets are bad, they know migration from crop to crop is hard on the bees.

Big urb, on the other hand, likes to disregard the high level of noise and incessant light in the environment. They like to ignore that fact the bee-killing roads are everywhere and that high winds shriek around buildings and throw bees off course. They pretend fine particulates and pollutants, including heavy metals, don’t land on flowers and stick to nectar and pollen alike.

Sure, some urban bees will do great, just as some rural bees will do great. But just because five colonies tucked between skyscrapers a half-mile from the airport exceeded expectations doesn’t mean they all will. Maybe their keeper had good training. Maybe he purchased exceptional bees. Maybe he made lucky decisions. Maybe this wasn’t his year to fail.

I’ve often wondered why beekeeping has to be a contest between urban and rural, commercial and hobbyist, natural and unnatural. No matter where you are or what your philosophy, you should concentrate on your own bees and stop worrying about everybody else. By all means learn from other beekeepers, absorb the details, compare notes—but stop keeping score. If your bees are thriving, be grateful.

As for all those arrogant, supercilious, pain-in-the-butt beekeepers? Forgetaboutthem. They disappear. Honestly. When the arrogant ones fail—and they all do eventually—they just quietly disappear rather than let it be known that their colonies up and died. The louder they crow, the harder they fall. It would be funny if it weren’t so sad.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

A personal note to cranky old beekeepers

Sometimes it is hard to be equable when people make ridiculous comments. For the most part I succeed until someone writes, “My grandfather kept healthy bees for 50 years. If that method worked for him, it will work for me.”

Great. Fine. So why are you asking me how to fix your problem?

Based on other things they say, I’m guessing that many of these folks are about 60, give or take. If I add 20 to 25 years per generation, I can assume their grandfathers were born 100 to 110 years ago. Those newborn babes probably started beekeeping 10-20 years later (especially if they did it for 50 years) which means they began in 1910 to 1930.

The numbers don’t have to be exact. The point is that they were beekeeping

    • Before Varroa mites
    • Before CCD
    • Before IAPV
    • Before small hive beetles
    • Before pervasive use of pesticides
    • Before migratory beekeeping
    • Before climate change
    • Before multi-lane highways
    • Before coast-to-coast suburbia
    • Before massive monoculture crops
    • Before genetically modified organisms
    • Before widespread habitat fragmentation
    • Before Africanized honey bees
    • Before polluted air, water, soil, and flowers
    • Before California almonds

Furthermore, if you belong to this group, your grandfather probably heated bathwater on the stove, got the news from a crotchety radio with hot tubes inside, and made calls from a telephone forever attached to the wall. If he had a car at all, he started it with a hand crank. Fast food meant it was running when shot. Heck, your grandfather needed a tool just to open a bottle of Coke.

But hey, if you think the old ways will work for you, knock yourself out. But if you are going to make inane statements about beekeeping, if you have no clue that the world has changed, then you have no business sending digital code to my computer. Write me a letter instead. Use a fountain pen and ink, paper and envelope, and a postage stamp to tell me the old ways are better.

If you think I don’t care about the past, you are wrong. We learn from those who have gone before us. We are inspired by those who have tried and failed and those who have tried and triumphed.

What’s more, “cranky and old” has nothing to do with age and everything to do with attitude. Young people can be dull and prejudiced just as old people can be alert and receptive. It’s got to do with your brain, not the year you were born.

When we study the past, we see that a serious mistake is made by hanging on to a tradition, a belief, or an idea that is no longer sound in a modern world. Yes, things may have been better in a former time, but we are not there, we are here. We have to deal with things the way they are, not the way we would like them to be.

So take care of your bees by remembering that this is not your grandfather’s planet. This is the environment we’ve provided for our bees and ourselves, and it’s often not pretty. But it is what it is. Make the best of it; learn to handle it . . . that’s the better way to bee.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Shame on the photo thieves

I am finding it hard to get motivated to post anything after last week’s wholesale theft of a photo I posted here. The photo of a honey bee secreting wax from her wax glands was the work of one of my regular readers and is truly awesome. The trouble started like this:

Last week after I wrote about photographing bees, I invited readers to share their own successful photos on my site. But after this particular photo came in, I double-checked with the owner to make sure it was okay to post—I didn’t want any misunderstandings because I knew the photo was good enough to get lots of attention.

Within minutes of posting, it began showing up everywhere. Of course, when you post photos online you expect them to get tweeted, pinned, mentioned, linked, Facebooked or whatever, but you hope for a link back to your site. Most people play fair. But the first big irritation came from a popular beekeeper who re-tweeted the image. First he posted the image to his own Facebook page and then sent out a tweet that linked back to that page. In the tweet he included a link to my site as a parenthetical, but we all know that no one is going to follow both links. When I went to his site, I found a non-linked mention of Honey Bee Suite but no photographer name on the photo.

This really irked me because, without an active link back to my site or a photographer credit, the owner gets no recognition whatsoever. This beekeeper proceeded to get something like 172 Facebook likes and 200 shares to my 40 likes. The comments on his site are nearly all the same: “great photo, awesome, wow!” Wouldn’t it have been nice for the photographer’s name to be on the damn picture? Wouldn’t be nice if she got just a little of the credit?

Of course, when something goes viral it goes everywhere—and, indeed, this photo went everywhere. Without trying very hard, I found it on at least two dozen sites. The reputable people give credit; most don’t bother. I didn’t actually lose my temper it until someone on BeeSource.com accused me of stealing the photo from someone else’s Facebook page. Can you believe it?

I’m not naive; I realize theft goes with the territory. I know photographers whose work has been stolen for commercial purposes. I know of photographers who have found their work with other people’s copyright notice attached. I have had my own written work republished under someone else’s name. So it’s no surprise that it happened with this photo—but that doesn’t make it right.

It’s hard to say where the line should be drawn. One person wrote to say she immediately shared the photo with her bee club. In my way of thinking, that is great. That’s what these photos and articles are for—to teach, to illustrate, to inform. They should be passed around in the spirit of sharing and learning. For that reason I have never—not even once—said no to someone who asked permission to use either my photos or my writing for non-commercial purposes. But to post work and give the impression it is your own—even if you don’t specifically say it’s your own—is low. It’s even worse when you’re trying sell something.

And in this case, the permission to republish was not mine to give. The photo was graciously shared with me to post, but since I don’t own it, I can’t decide to give it away. Shame on all of you who think the rules don’t apply to you. Did even one of you stop to think how you would feel if it was your photograph? No one is asking for money here, just a little recognition. I suppose I’m an idealist, but we beekeepers and bug lovers are a small enough community that I would expect a little mutual respect within our ranks. Is that too much to ask?

I’m in a quandary. I have so much unfinished business here on Honey Bee Suite. I’d like to share my recent success with the Girl Scout pollinator project, my plans to battle the Washington State Department of Transportation over alkali bees, my enthusiasm for matching native bees to their preferred forage, my recent experiences with triple deeps, HopGuard, and Hive Tracks—and my love for anything to do with bees. But the website is so much work and the fouls so numerous, that I wonder if I shouldn’t continue on in silence and let someone else deal with the morons. It’s something to think about.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

P.S. For all of you who linked back and/or named the photographer—and there were many—my heartfelt thanks.

Hopping mad at HopGuard

I put off writing this post for a very long time—since November, actually. Although I often display irritation in my posts, I try damn hard to remain civil. But the makers of HopGuard have pushed my civility to the limit. I had to cool down for months before I could write something that wouldn’t get me banned from the Internet.

From the top, the story goes like this:

I do not use hard chemicals in my hives but, since mites are a problem, I use one of the so-called “soft” or “natural” products. Although I’ve tried formic acid-based products, I prefer the thymol-based ones, either Apiguard or Api-Life Var. I used them according to package directions and had excellent results. As far as I know, I never lost a hive to mites in the many years I used those products.

Like all treatments, however, they should be rotated with other treatments to lessen the chances of building resistant strains. When HopGuard came on the market I was ecstatic: here was a product that was easy to use, had an active ingredient other than thymol, and didn’t require the dreaded “fumigation chamber” in hot weather. I read everything I could find about it and wrote extensively about it here at HoneyBeeSuite.

When it came time to treat for mites last summer, I read the directions carefully and watched HopGuard’s own video several times. I calculated how many strips to use per hive based on the number of brood boxes and the number of frames covered with bees, and I staggered the strips in the pattern they recommended. I followed every last instruction from the package insert and the video to the letter.

I was happy with the way the bees reacted to the HopGuard and, although it was messy, I was happy with the ease of use. The insert said I could use the product up to three times per year, but I always treat for mites in August only, so I just crossed that chore off my list. Job done.

Everything was fine until, months later, I saw a post on BeeSource about “progressive” HopGuard treatments. Curious, I read the series of posts. The gist of the thread was that, since the HopGuard strips tended to dry out in the hive, they didn’t continue to kill mites after the first few days. As a result, beekeepers were adding a new set of strips every week for three weeks. According to the thread, Mann Lake, the company that sells HopGuard, was advocating this procedure.

I had trouble wrapping my mind around this. It sounded like an off-label use, something a reputable company would never advocate—at least not publicly. I re-read the label. It says that a treatment is one set of strips and that the treatment may be repeated up to three times a year. To me that meant maybe spring, summer, and fall . . . or something similar. No rational person reading the instructions would conclude it meant three weeks in a row.

I didn’t believe it, so I wrote to John I Haas, the parent company of BetaTec Hop Products. I received an answer that reads in part, “. . . the HopGuard strip does dry out over time in the hive which reduces its efficacy. In using only one round of strips when there is brood in the hive, the mite phoretic load will be reduced and this could help the beekeeper keep his hives healthy enough to get them to a time later in the year when other treatments and/or HopGuard can be used more effectively. . . . Tests by the USDA and by a number of commercial beekeepers have found the [sic] several consecutive applications do in fact reduce the overall mite load and have saved hives that would probably have died. The label does allow for multiple applications . . . up to 3 times per year. . . .”

But again, I ask you, how was I supposed to know that “up to three times a year” meant “three weeks in a row?”

By the time this little gem of wisdom came to my attention, I had already lost many of my hives. I’ve lost more since then . . . and all the post mortems indicate mites. After successfully wintering year after year by using Api-Life Var according to package instructions, I’ve now lost most of my hives by using HopGuard because I didn’t know that “up to three times per year” means “three weeks in a row.” You have no idea how hopping mad I am.

Furthermore, many of the good things I said about HopGuard in previous posts aren’t really true. For example, it’s not more convenient than other products if you have to apply it three times instead of just once, and it certainly isn’t cheaper. But more than anything, it seems unconscionable that a company would go to market with—and write instructions for—a product that they themselves didn’t know was going to dry up in three days. Didn’t anyone do field trials?

The makers of HopGuard cost me a bundle of money. Worse, I was an enthusiastic advocate of HopGuard. I promoted it, recommended it, and my posts about HopGuard have received much traffic. The boondoggle caused me to let my readers down. How many of them lost hives due to lousy instructions?

So that’s my story. I will rebuild my apiary, although not all at once. I’ve learned my lesson about trying new products. I apologize to any of my readers who lost their bees. To be fair, HopGuard appears to be an effective product, but the obfuscatory language is just plain unacceptable. So to BetaTec I say re-write your materials. Fix your website. Say what you mean. Get real.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Screen shot from Betatechopproducts.com, captured 2-8-2012.
Screen shot from Betatechopproducts.com, captured 2-8-2012.