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Details of the Taranov split

The Olympia beekeeper who submitted the photos of splitting a Langstroth with a Taranov board, Dave Hurd, sent in some details based on reader questions. He did a nice job explaining his method, so I’m presenting it as today’s post. Once again thanks, Dave, for all your input and your great photos.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

I can add a little more info about my split experience. On the afternoon of 4/28 (two weeks ago) we were having some usually warm weather and the bees were flying so I thought it would be a handy time to start a HopGuard treatment. I first installed the strips in my nuc and then moved onto my triple. I put strips in the top box, then as I lifted it off I saw a couple of capped swarm cells along the bottom of the frames. I carefully lowered the box back into place and closed the hive. That was probably around 2:30.

At that point I was sure that the hive had either already recently swarmed or was just about to, and decided to make the split immediately in case the girls hadn’t bolted yet. Having read Rusty’s excellent description of the Taranov method I knew what I needed to do (run back into the house to read it again), so I came up with the materials to fabricate my board and put it together, got a nice floral print sheet from my wife, and got set up.

As I was placing the board and sheet I noticed right away that through some adrenalin induced measurement error the lip of the board was about 1.5″ too high, so I slipped a couple of 2x4s under the hive to even them up. It was probably about 3:00 when the apparatus was assembled, in place, and ready for action.

I started shaking frames working from the top down, stacking the emptied boxes on the top cover. When I got to the bottom box I pulled, shook, and replaced the frames leaving the box in place.

Per the instructions I made sure to carefully brush the bees from frames with swarm cells to protect the new queen. For the other frames it only took one or two firm shakes to drop the bees onto the sheet. The whole process proceeded very quickly; after 20 minutes the hive was as empty. I spotted the marked queen midway through the middle box as she fell on the sheet.

At 5:00 all of the bees were either back in the hive, clustered under the board, or out foraging. By 5:05 the cluster was in a new home sipping sweet syrup. This was a brand new box, with brand new frames of brand new foundation; no queen cells added.

Today, two weeks later, the old marked queen is still in the new hive with quite a bit of eggs, brood, and capped brood. They seem to be doing well; in fact they seemed a little crowded so I added a second box on top of the first. I’ll check the old hive to make sure there are eggs next week, and if not I’ll requeen it from my nuc.

As far as needing help, I did this all on my own and it was, in hindsight, not a big deal work-wise. I will admit to being a little panicky during the process because, well, that was a lot of bees! I was much relieved when I saw the queen and knew that I had caught it in time. I don’t think it could have gone much faster if I’d have had help; but there would have been someone to hold the video camera . . .

Dave Hurd

Another take on Taranov

A beekeeper here in Olympia, Dave Hurd, sent me the following photos of splitting a hive with a Taranov board. His design for the ramp is slightly different than my own but the principle is the same. Because he split a Langstroth rather than a top-bar hive, I thought you might enjoy seeing his photos.

Based on these two examples, it’s hard to say if all bees are this smart or if Olympia bees are smarter than most. Hmm…

Anyway, in his comment, Dave wrote:

I’m an Olympia, WA beekeeper (well, I keep most of them) and today is my one-year bee anniversary! . . . I wanted to let you know that I detected impending swarmification (my word) a little over a week ago in my triple deep and so used this method to split the hive.

It was astonishing. It was also unnerving to be shaking sooo many bees out onto the sheet. The carpet of bees marched itself up the ramp and split just like clockwork. . . . My board prototype is a little different than yours but performed admirably. Both the triple and the new colony seem to be doing well, though I don’t think I’ll open them to snoop for eggs for a while yet. . . .

I crafted my board out of an 8-frame bottom board, plywood scraps for side stands, a chunk of 2×6 attached to the bottom for ballast, and 1.5″ wide piece of leather-backed fuzzy material that I cut off of an ice scraper cuff that I then stapled to a piece of 1×2. I figure by the time winter comes back my wife won’t recall exactly how long that ice scraper cuff was. . . .

Thanks, Dave, for your description and some really great photographs!

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Here is the Taranov board from the bottom, showing the fabric for the bees to grab onto.
Here is the Taranov board from the bottom, showing the fabric for the bees to grab onto.
As you can see from the photo, the main ramp is a modified bottom board.
As you can see from the photo, the main ramp is a modified bottom board.
Soon after all the frames were shook free of bees.
Soon after all the frames were shook free of bees.
The bees begin to climb the ramp.
The bees begin to climb the ramp.
A few bees begin to look under the ramp.
A few bees begin to look under the ramp.
The process continues.
The process continues.
Notice the four-inch gap between the ramp and the old hive.
Notice the four-inch gap between the ramp and the old hive.
Eventually the bees cluster under the ramp or on the front of the old hive.
Eventually the bees cluster under the ramp or on the front of the old hive.
The split is nearly complete.
The split is nearly complete.
A beautiful cluster of bees.
A beautiful cluster of bees.
The split is ready for its new home.
The split is ready for its new home.
Home, sweet home.
Home, sweet home.
The new split gets a syrup feeder.
The new split gets a syrup feeder.

The great divide: a Taranov split

I recognized the cacophony coming from my top-bar hive. The insistent roar told me those bees were ready to swarm. They were milling about, climbing up the sides of the hive, flying but not foraging.

I had just returned from a week on the road and didn’t feel like messing with bees, but they were hard to ignore. I watched them for a long while, then asked them (nicely) not to swarm until tomorrow.

On Friday I got up early with the intention of taking a shook swarm from that hive. It’s my only top-bar hive, so I have nothing to split it into. But as I was getting ready, I recalled a conversation I had just had with Karessa of Nectar Bee Supply in Corvallis. She had read my post on the Taranov board and asked if I had ever tried it. Suddenly I knew I had perfect conditions for a test—a hive that was going to swarm any minute.

So I printed instructions from my own website and went through the steps one by one. By the time I was set up and ready to begin I decided there was no way this could possibly work. What on earth made me believe I could shake all the bees out of the hive and expect them to divide themselves into two camps: the swarmers and the stayers? This Russian guy was insane.

But at that point, I decided to keep going. One by one I took out every frame, inspected it for the queen (which I never found), and shook the bees onto the sheet. Like a scene from Harry Potter, all the bees marched up the ramp and divided into two groups. They behaved like a swarm, very gentle and completely non-aggressive.

Now, two days later, everyone seems well settled in. I saw no crossover between the two hives and both have good populations. All the swarming behavior ceased. I no longer think the Russian guy was nuts; I think he was a genius—and he certainly knew bee behavior. Have a look at the photos below . . . this split was too cool for words.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

First I measured the width of the alighting board.
First I measured the width of the alighting board.
My husband doesn’t like me to use his radial-arm saw because I might delete an important appendage. He wasn’t home however, so onward and upward. I cut an old piece of plywood the width of the alighting board and another as a brace. I couldn’t find a hinge, so I used an angle bracket.
My husband doesn’t like me to use his radial-arm saw because I might delete an important appendage. He wasn’t home however, so onward and upward. I cut an old piece of plywood the width of the alighting board and another as a brace. I couldn’t find a hinge, so I used an angle bracket.
I didn’t have a piece of carpet, so I used an old terrycloth towel. This gives the bees something to hang onto.
I didn’t have a piece of carpet, so I used an old terrycloth towel. This gives the bees something to hang onto.

Once the angle bracket was attached, I just bent it to the right angle.
Once the angle bracket was attached, I just bent it to the right angle.

I set up the Taranov board four inches from the alighting board.
I set up the Taranov board four inches from the alighting board.

Here is the ramp in place. By now, the whole thing seemed ridiculous. After all, what self-respecting bee wouldn’t make the four-inch journey between ramp and home? And why would bees go looking for a rag under the ramp?
Here is the ramp in place. By now, the whole thing seemed ridiculous. After all, what self-respecting bee wouldn’t make the four-inch journey between ramp and home? And why would bees go looking for a rag under the ramp?

I taped the sheet to the ramp. If you try this at home, staple it. The tape eventually released under the weight of all the bees.
I taped the sheet to the ramp. If you try this at home, staple it. The tape eventually released under the weight of all the bees.

I shook all 23 top-bar combs onto the sheet. What a mess! If this were a painting, I would call it “Seven Degrees of Randomness.”
I shook all 23 top-bar combs onto the sheet. What a mess! If this were a painting, I would call it “Seven Degrees of Randomness.”

Within a few minutes, they began walking—not flying—toward home. They marched right up the ramp. Who would have thunk it?
Within a few minutes, they began walking—not flying—toward home. They marched right up the ramp. Who would have thunk it?

The great divide. Only four inches apart, two distinct groups began forming—the would-be swarmers and the regular foragers. They must have read the directions.
The great divide. Only four inches apart, two distinct groups began forming—the would-be swarmers and the regular foragers. They must have read the directions.

It took about 90 minutes for all the stragglers to come off the sheet.
It took about 90 minutes for all the stragglers to come off the sheet.

At this point, I picked up the ramp with the swarm attached and dumped it into an empty Langstroth. I found 20 capped queen cells, which I divided between the two hives. I never found the queen.
At this point, I picked up the ramp with the swarm attached and dumped it into an empty Langstroth. I found 20 capped queen cells, which I divided between the two hives. I never found the queen.

The new split. The top medium contains a feeder.
The new split. The top medium contains a feeder.

Intercast queens and swarm guards

I want to share an interesting conversation I’ve been having with Oregon beekeeper Morris Ostrofsky. After I posted about how to use swarm guards, he challenged the idea that virgin queens can sometimes get through them. He wrote:

I had a conversation with Dan Purvis some years ago regarding virgin queens and queen excluders. Dan is a commercial queen breeder and quite knowledgeable. He is adamant that virgin queens cannot go through a queen excluder. If this is so, then virgin queens should not be able to go through a swarm guard if the spacing is the same as a queen excluder. When virgins first come out of their cells, their abdomens are not full size but their thorax is and that’s the reason virgins cannot pass through a queen excluder.

I explained that I’ve seen swarms with virgin queens go through swarm guards, but I thought this might be due to worn out excluders. Over time as they get dropped, thrown into the backs of trucks, or wedged into buckets, the spacing gets compromised . . . at least in the metal ones. At that point, if a queen is lucky, she can find that sweet spot where the bend works in her favor.

But then Morris came up with a brilliant idea that could explain why I was seeing something different than a commercial queen breeder even if the excluder was properly spaced:

An intercast queen, a queen which has been raised from a larva that is too old to produce a perfect queen, will be smaller. This could explain a smaller queen passing through an excluder: a smaller queen, therefore a smaller thorax. Since Dan is a competent queen breeder he surely does not see intercast queens, at least not from his own operation. So from his own experience he would be adamant that the thorax of queens would not pass through an excluder.

And I believe Morris is right. His comment reminded me that I did have such a queen a few years ago. She was so small I couldn’t find her except by looking for her retinue. Although she was basically queen shaped, she was not much longer than a worker, and I would say her abdomen was more rounded and less pointed than a standard queen. Surely she could have fit through an excluder.

I kept track of her because I was fascinated by her smallness. She was obviously able to mate and function normally because she built up the hive for about three months before the colony superseded her. In a way, she demonstrated nature over nurture—she was small because she was nurtured too late to become a normal queen, but her genetics were fine because she laid the egg that became the queen that superseded her. The colony ultimately thrived and lives on today.

But this is an open topic. I’m sure there is more to hear on the subject of virgin queens, intercast queens, and queen excluders, so be sure to chime in.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

How to use a swarm guard

A swarm guard is similar to a queen excluder except it is designed to fit over the entrance to a hive. Just like a queen excluder, the swarm guard keeps both queens and drones from passing through because the wires are close together. Worker bees are small enough to pass through easily.

Swarm guards have their uses but they can only be used for short periods in particular circumstances. If swarm guards are left in place too long, then can produce disastrous results. For example:

  • Since drones can’t get in or out, the ones outside can’t return home and the ones inside can’t leave. You can get hundreds of dead drones piling up behind the guard until the entrance becomes virtually blocked to the workers. The workers can’t remove the dead drones either, so you are left with a big mess.
  • A swarm guard will prevent swarming for a time, but the presence of the guard won’t stop the swarm impulse. Eventually the swarm may leave with a virgin queen that is small enough to fit through the guard.
  • If you put the guard on when a virgin is getting ready to mate, she may not be able to get out. Or if you put it on when she is already out, she may not be able to get back in. In either case, you are creating a queenless hive.

Nevertheless, swarm guards can be useful tools. I use them sparingly for the following purposes:

  • Swarm guards are useful when installing new packages. Since the queen can’t leave the hive, the colony is unlikely to abscond with a swarm guard in place. I usually leave the guard in place until the new queen is laying eggs. Since there are no drones to get caught behind the guard, and you have a mated queen on the inside, it is safe to leave it on for a few days.
  • If I happen to see a colony that is itching to swarm, I install a swarm guard immediately. This stops the swarm from issuing long enough for me to gather equipment and set up a split. I’ve been able to forestall many swarms just by having one of these devices on hand. If I can’t do the split the same day, I take off the guard before dark so the drones can sort themselves out, then I do the split first thing the next morning.
  • During fall and winter when no drones or queens are coming and going, swarm guards can be used as mouse guards. Still, you have to remember to take them off before drones appear in the spring.

I’m sure other beekeepers have found creative ways to use swarm guards. Let us know what you do with them.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

A swarm guard in place. Photo by Herb Lester.
A swarm guard in place. Photo by Herb Lester.