Waxing eloquent

The photo of a honey bee secreting wax caused quite a stir because it is a phenomenon we don’t often see. Bees secreting wax usually stay close to where it will be used and they tend to move little during the process. Secreting beeswax is such an energy-intensive endeavor that each bee conserves as much energy as possible by staying in one place.

Honey bees have four pairs of wax glands on the ventral side of abdominal segments 4 through 7. The ability of worker bees to produce wax increases gradually from birth and peaks when the bees are 12 to 18 days old. After that period, the workers are shifted to other duties and their ability to produce wax wanes.

The segments where wax is produced are equipped with smooth surfaces called mirrors or plates. The clear liquid wax flows in a thin layer over the plates where it hardens into little white disks that look like fish scales or ice flakes. If the disk remains in place, the bee may add another liquid layer over the first, creating a thicker disk.

When the wax is ready to be used, the bee passes a scale forward from one pair of legs to the next until she can grasp it with her mouth parts. The bee chews the scale, adding secretions from her mandibular glands, until it is pliable enough to be used. The bee then adds her piece of wax to the developing comb, pinching it in place, smoothing the joints, and polishing the surface. Each wax scale takes about four minutes to prepare.

Some other wax facts:

  • According to Jürgen Tautz in The Buzz about Bees, 100 grams of wax requires 125,000 wax scales, and can be used to build 8000 cells of comb.
  • According to the ABC and XYZ of Bee Culture, bees must eat 7 or 8 pounds of honey to produce one pound of beeswax.
  • According to How to Keep Bees and Sell Honey by Walter T. Kelley, wax can only be secreted at temperatures from 92 to 97 degrees F (33-36 °C).
  • Jürgen Tautz also tells us that beeswax is composed of more than 300 different chemical compounds.
  • The melting point of beeswax is 144-147 °F (62-64 °C) and the flash point is 399.9 °F (204.4 °C).

Once built, the bees use their comb as a shelter, fortress, pantry, nursery, bulletin board, communications platform (dance floor), and resting place. And now, another look at that fascinating photo.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

A honey bee worker has four pairs of wax glands in its ventral abdominal segments. It is unclear why this bee was outside the hive. Photo by Debbe Krape.
A honey bee worker has four pairs of wax glands in its ventral abdominal segments. It is unclear why this bee was outside the hive. Photo by Debbe Krape.

The secret to brushing bees

Beekeepers who do not use fume boards or bee escapes to remove bees from their honey supers often brush the bees from each frame before extracting. This works if the brush has long, soft bristles and if the bees are flicked off the frames rather than scrubbed. It’s all in the wrist—several quick flicks and you’re done. But here is the secret:

Recall that honeycomb is built so both sides angle up. If you look at a cross-section of honeycomb, you will see that the cells angle upward from the center of the comb by about 9 to 14 degrees on each side of the frame. This shallow V is deep enough to keep the nectar from running out of the cells before the bees cure it.

If you brush bees downward when the frame is upright, you are brushing the bees against the angled up comb. This is fine if the cells are 100% capped. But if some of the cells are uncapped, the bees’ legs get jammed against the angled up comb when you brush down. Their legs and wings can be torn off and their bodies rolled and damaged as they are scraped against the irregular surface. Think of it as sanding a piece of wood against the grain: instead of smooth and silky, it is rough and ragged.

To avoid the problem, simply turn your frames upside down before you brush. The bees will drop off all of a piece and the job is quick and easy with few losses.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Why do brood combs turn black?

It doesn’t take long to discover that brood combs can turn dark as night after just one season while honey combs stay light for many years. What causes this difference? Several reasons are usually given for this phenomenon, but in truth, it is probably a combination of all them that causes brood comb to darken so quickly.

The cocoons that remain in the cell after the bees hatch are the major problem. The cocoons are extremely sticky and, try as they might, the bees cannot strip it all from the comb. Some say the darkness is caused by the feces that remains in the bottom of the cocoons. Although this may be partially true, based on what I’ve read, the bees manage to remove most—if not all—of the feces as they prepare the cell for the next generation.

What is more likely is that the sticky cocoons attract all sorts of hive debris, from dirt tracked in on bee feet (many bees times six), pollen grains, and atmospheric dust. In addition, the bees polish the insides of these cells with propolis to make the surface smooth and to take advantage of the many antimicrobial agents found in the propolis.

The color found in the dirt and debris, combined with the layers of propolis—which is usually dark—probably accounts for most of the color change.

But, you say, the inside of honey cells are brushed with propolis too. That is true, but the honey cells do not contain cocoons and they are emptied and polished seldom—usually only once a year. Brood cells, on the other hand, may be polished and reused every 21 or 22 days during the spring and summer—a huge difference.

Another difference between honey comb and brood comb is the amount of bee activity. Once a honey cell is filled the bees move on to another. But once an egg is laid in a brood cell, the uncapped larvae is fed a thousand times a day—quite a different traffic pattern.

The buildup of cocoons and propolis in brood cells is significant. Some researchers have analyzed brood comb and found that the cells become measurably smaller as the walls become thicker. If you render your own beeswax, you know how much more debris is filtered from melted brood comb than melted honey comb. Clumps of this debris, appropriately called “slumgum,” clog strainers and mesh bags, and tiny bits of it darken the liquid wax.

The question always arises whether dark comb is harmful to bees. In truth, bees love dark comb and it is often used in bait hives to attract wild swarms. I’ve heard rumors about beekeepers using black comb for twenty-five years with no ill effects.

Recently, however, there is concern about pesticide build-up in old combs, as well as the accumulation of some pathogens. Many sources now recommend rotating old black comb out of the hive every four or five years, not because of its color but to protect the hive from these pesticides and pathogens.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

The upper part of the comb has never been used for brood and remains light. The lower portion has contained brood and is starting to darken. Flickr photo by Jordan Schwartz.
The upper part of the comb has never been used for brood and remains light. The lower portion has contained brood and is starting to darken. Flickr photo by Jordan Schwartz.

Monday morning myth: freezing won’t kill wax moths

Contrary to popular hearsay, freezing will kill all life stages of both the greater wax moth (Galleria mellonella) and the lesser wax moth (Achroia grisella).

To kill the moths, you must monitor both time and temperature. For example, the Mid-Altantic Apiculture Research and Extension Consortium (MAAREC) publishes the following guidelines to kill both species of wax moth:

20 degrees F for 4.5 hours or

5 degrees F for 2 hours.

Similarly, the Department of Primary Industries in Victoria, Australia advises

-6.7 degrees C for 4.5 hours or

-12.2 degrees C [10 degrees F] for 3 hours or

-15 degrees C for 2 hours

These numbers convert exactly. Nevertheless, beekeepers come up with all kinds of wild stories about freezing them for weeks on end, only to have the caterpillars start crawling around when the frames thaw. Don’t believe it.

Here are some points to consider if you freeze your frames for wax moth control:

  • Check your freezer temperature with a reliable thermometer—don’t depend on the dial.
  • Measure times from the point when the frames, combs, wax, or super reaches the desired temperature. Don’t start timing from the moment you put them in the freezer.
  • Remember: if you return thawed frames to a super that was not frozen, re-infection can occur immediately.
  • The same is true if you return frames to an area that contains adult wax moths, such as a storage building or honey house.
  • If you wrap frames tightly in plastic wrap before freezing—and leave them wrapped afterwards—you can protect them from re-infestation. Wrapping also keeps condensation from forming on the combs and frames while they return to ambient temperature.

Freezing times don’t have to be exact as long as you meet the minimums. For example, my freezer is 9 degrees F. I just wrap my frames in plastic and freeze overnight . . . or over 30 nights. There’s no need to create an ordeal.

One reason the myth persists is that some beekeepers have reported that wax moths survived the winter in their hives in spite of the fact it was less than 20 degrees for weeks on end. This is most likely true because it is not 20 degrees inside a healthy beehive. The cluster keeps the wax moths warm and cozy all winter long. But as long as the colony remains healthy and strong, it will destroy most of the moths as it expands in spring.

So just remember, wax moths are not an inexorable pest destined to take over the world—they are both predictable and manageable. When the day comes that they can drop me in the freezer, then I’ll start to worry.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite.com

Crushing and straining . . . and moaning

Normally, I do not extract any of my honey. In fact, the reason I keep my own bees is so that I can have a steady supply of comb honey. On those occasions when I need some liquid honey for a recipe, I just gather the drips that accumulate under the comb in my honey dish. No problem.

But when my daughter visited recently, I asked if she needed more honey. “No,” she said, “I still have four combs.” Then, much to my dismay, she added, “We are going to buy some honey so we have it ready for recipes.”

What? Buy honey? When I can’t even find room enough to store it all? I was appalled. (Although I’ve noticed her weirdness quotient increasing since she got married. I suppose that’s normal.)

At that point, I set about doing something I said I would never do: I deliberately removed honey from its comb. Oh, so sad . . . like separating the chunks from peanut butter or the skins from potatoes or the seeds from raspberries. What is the point? What is food without texture?

Alas, setting aside my personal hang-ups, I referred to a recent post at Mudsongs.org and followed the crushing and straining instructions exactly. I cut the comb out of the section boxes (trying not to think about how hard it was to get them filled in the first place), stacked them in a big flat-bottom bowl, and squashed them to a pulp with a potato masher (nothing short of heart-wrenching, believe me). Next, I poured the smashings into a strainer and let the honey drip through.

Much to my surprise this actually worked. I put the strainer in the sun (yes, on rare occasions the sun winks upon western Washington) and the dripping proceeded at a steady clip. In no time, I filled two pint jars.

Now this honey is going to my daughter who is used to comb honey, so I know she won’t freak over a few specks of wax. For more discerning clientele, I suppose I would next put the honey through a fine mesh to remove all the little floaters. After it set overnight, though, I was able to skim most of them off the surface. It looks pretty good considering I have none of the “proper” equipment.

So now I can add “crushing and straining” to my ever-expanding list of beekeeper done-its. And the bees, thinking they died and went to heaven, are cleaning up the crushed wax which I piled inside an eke on one of the hives. For the moment at least, everyone is happy.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite.com

Honey dripping through the sieve
Honey dripping through the sieve
The white containers support the handle and plastic wrap keeps out the dust. Those shadows are caused by the sun. Really.
The white containers support the handle and plastic wrap keeps out the dust. Those shadows are caused by the sun. Really.