From A to Bee

by James Dearsley

  JANUARY 15

  A couple of months ago I decided I would not only chat with beekeepers in the flesh but also with beekeepers in the online community and it seems to be paying off. Originally I felt this would be a little bit weird. For starters I didn't know anything about Facebook, let alone beekeeping, but I am a quick learner.

  I now have more beekeeping 'friends' in the US and Australia, let alone Greece, Turkey, Georgia and Bermuda than I do here in the UK. It seems that most of them have hundreds of hives. Here I am just starting out and aiming to get two! I feel a little bit silly talking to these experienced beekeepers about beekeeping when they seem to know so much.

  As many of you will know, men are the true multitaskers and as I type this I am also having a 'live chat' with a beekeeper from Egypt called Mustafa. I still can't really get my head around it if I am honest and as he types another little message about 'queen rearing' I log off. What the hell is that about? I don't feel at all qualified to answer those sorts of questions.

  Regardless of this latest experience, overall it has been positive so I decided today to join Twitter – a social media platform on the Internet that seems to be getting a lot of publicity at the moment. I had a little look around and there seem to be a lot of beekeepers on there. Let's see what I can learn in 140 characters (the maximum number of characters you can use to write a 'tweet'!). It all sounds a little silly to me but I am now @surreybeekeeper. I really don't know about this… Bring on the spring.

  JANUARY 29

  I have so far had a fantastic three months learning all about beekeeping but I am beginning to feel a little frustrated. I really want to get some hands-on experience, if anything just to look inside a hive. How will I feel when I open the roof for the first time – will I be scared? Will I have the nervous excitement of a four-year-old child or will I just be my relaxed self? Ultimately, will I get stung?

  I want to know how it feels to have the bees flying all around you. I want to know how it feels to put on the bee suit (I wonder if it makes you feel invincible or will it just make you feel self-conscious and silly?). I want to remember that I must put elastic bands over my gloves/sleeves to stop bees wandering up them. I want to understand what it must feel like to have a veil on, let alone knowing how I will feel seeing a bee walk across my eyeline, millimetres from my nose. I want to know what the smell is like when you light the smoker for the first time. I want to know if I am brave enough to actually try to pick up a bee, to handle it without hurting it, just to see what they are all about. I want to pick a frame out of the hive as if I've been doing it all my life and check both sides in that sweeping movement that beekeepers make while checking for problems or looking for the queen (apparently if she is present and laying that is generally a sign of good health in the hive). I want to know if I will be able to find the queen when I am looking at thousands upon thousands of other bees…

  Pause for breath.

  I just want to start my journey and communicate my feelings and adventures to other aspiring beekeepers. I want to show people that, if I can become a beekeeper, anyone can.

  Ultimately, at the end of the day, I just want to start making my one pot of honey.

  JANUARY 30

  Jo, Sebastian and I went to a National Trust garden in Esher. It was one of those lovely sunny winter days with a layer of frost covering the ground, which meant it was also bitterly cold! The gardens were beautiful and dated back to 1715 and as usual old Capability Brown had an input somewhere along the line, with the rolling hills and sporadically placed tree copses dotted around to make it look all natural.

  We went back via RHS Wisley as I had been meaning to drop in there for some time now. The National Trust and the Royal Horticultural Society are two institutions I cannot fault. RHS Wisley has a fantastic library there with every gardening book you could conceivably imagine. I had a feeling that they may have a good selection of books about beekeeping and fortunately I was not disappointed.

  Therefore on top of the house-sized Beekeeping Bible which I am trying desperately to get to grips with, I picked up Keeping Bees: A Complete Practical Guide by Paul Peacock. It is by far the most modern book I have seen and has the best pictures. Not sure if this makes for a great read but it looks far more inviting than some of the others.

  I also picked up A World Without Bees by Alison Benjamin and Brian McCallum, which I am looking forward to reading as its opening fact states: 'If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe then man would only have four years of life left.' This is supposedly a quote by Albert Einstein, though I have heard that it was a beekeeper by the name of Albert N. Stein, from the US – if this is indeed the truth, isn't it funny what Chinese whispers can do. Anyhow this book attempts to substantiate this claim and gives reasons for the problems they are facing.

  I am also going to go through Beekeeping: Self-Sufficiency by Joanna Ryde, which also looks pretty new and quite 'fashionable' with its muted, earthy-coloured front cover and modern typeface. We shall see how well it reads! Everything else seems so old and textbook-like.

  There I was in an RHS library, sitting on the floor with books all around me. There was a 'Yes' pile and a 'No' pile and then a sporadic jumble of books in a 'Don't Know' pile. I must have looked a bit of a test case and so when a lady approached me, I had a feeling she was about to ask me to leave for creating such a mess. However, she simply asked me if I needed any help with the beekeeping books.

  As I looked up at this rather demure lady, books everywhere around me, I could hardly say no. It turned out that she was one of our regional bee inspectors. Her name was Dianne Steele and I couldn't believe my luck. Maybe she was off-duty but, either way, my preconceived vision of an inspector was not really coming true. There was no uniform, no medals of service and no yellow and black beret. Dianne was just normal, lovely and thrilled to speak about bees.

  What a great person to bump into! Anyway she recommended Bees at the Bottom of the Garden by Alan Campion. To me, everything that Keeping Bees has in design, this book makes up for in functionality. It really doesn't look inspiring and is looking a little tired of life, but it does look like it is filled with detail.

  Therefore on my pile of rather modern beekeeping books I also had one rather moth-eaten book, but I was hardly going to disagree with a bee inspector. I trudged off to the counter a little bit worried about just how much reading I was about to take on.

  FEBRUARY 1

  In just the short time I have been on Facebook and Twitter I now have over 500 beekeeping 'friends', and every day I get updates on what they are doing. It's very weird having all of these virtual friends. And then, on this beginners' page, I now have over 1,000 beekeepers following the updates – amazing really, in such a short time.

  I am still working out exactly what I am doing on Facebook but it has certainly accelerated my learning alongside the course and books. Primarily it's because around the world, every beekeeper is at a different stage given their different climates, which gives me a fascinating insight. It is great to see photos and videos being shared of apiaries varying from one hive to several hundred hives. It's amazing to see the variety of hives and techniques as well as beekeepers.

  I am learning so much from beekeepers called Chuck and Chad, not to mention the number of Vladimirs and Machmels I am now in contact with. I like to think it will make me a more rounded beekeeper.

  FEBRUARY 7

  Jo and I have just staggered back from a fantastic wedding in Oxford. Not only was it at Blenheim Palace, the birthplace of Winston Churchill, which was stunning, but it was, far more importantly and of far more historical importance, the first night we have been away from Sebastian together. It was quite surreal to actually have time together. We even got excited going into Beaconsfield Service Station, for example, knowing that we could sit down, have a coffee and read the paper! It is odd to have reached the stage where even a motorway service station is an exciting prospect.

  However, I got into her bad bo
oks as I decided to extend my trial of whiskey. I have never liked whiskey but really want to 'learn' how to drink it. I went through three or four samples at way past bedtime. I just love the ideology of whiskey, the heavy tumbler, the ice, a roaring fire and a traditional drink that is steeped in history. The pub had all of those elements and so I couldn't escape it, especially as our friends Ian and Darren are seasoned whiskey drinkers. A couple of hours later, and feeling as if I could say I was a whiskey drinker, I stumbled away from the bar. Great wedding, Sarah and Ben, congratulations.

  Sebastian loved being away from us, by the way. He had a great time with Nanny, not realising we had gone away.

  On a separate note, I have now had more time to read through the plans for the beehive. They look far more complicated than I initially thought and this is not because they are somewhat misshapen and littered with teeth marks from Sebastian's attempts to eat them a few weeks back. I thought it was essentially a box. I hadn't really considered the types of joint that were required, the glue that was to be used or the paint to preserve the hive. It was all very particular and precise.

  A hive should be perfectly square and have absolutely no holes or gaps anywhere if you want your bees to survive through the winter and generally accept the hive. It does state quite clearly 'competent woodworker required', as I noticed when I first opened the plans, and the fact that I struggle to identify what is wood and what isn't probably doesn't put me in this category. I was beginning to think that the Dearsley Bodge Job and a beehive were looking an unlikely combination.

  There was another funny comment in the plans and my eyes just went out on stalks when I thought of the consequences! It states that the National hive is preferred by many because 'more hives may be packed on commercial vehicles or the domestic car' – yes, the domestic car! Who would be crazy enough to put a beehive in their own car? Can you imagine if just one of the little insects got out and the carnage that could cause, let alone all 60,000. I then read on a little further: '… and up to eight, transported in estate models.' WHAT!!!! One hive was mad; eight would be bonkers! Imagine if they all got out: 480,000 bees flying around the car. What on earth would other drivers think?

  Tomorrow I will be sending my plans to my father to get prepared. I have to find the cedar wood to start with as this is what is recommended. Where on earth am I going to find that?

  FEBRUARY 11

  There I was, at work, logging on to my Twitter account as usual. I use it a lot in my corporate world, much to the amusement of my colleagues who hear me 'tweeting' all day long with the bird type sounds the computer makes every five minutes or so! I was settling down to my cup of coffee, catching up on the news and information flying past my eyes on the computer screen. Suddenly a message popped up from @stevefreeman, someone I had been conversing with and a relatively local beekeeper.

  It read: 'Might have some bee news for you James, can you send me your email if you are still interested in a nuc or two? Thanks, S'.

  Wow, could this be the first step to getting some bees? A 'nuc', or nucleus, is a small amount of bees; usually a hive will have eleven frames and a nuc will contain five, ideal for a beginner. Would my journey actually turn into something real? What exactly did he mean by 'bee news'? My heart was beating a little faster and I got a little excited. I realised this could be the moment my beekeeping life kicked off and became real.

  I immediately sent a message back with my email address, trying to sound all nonchalant about it. Deep down though, it felt similar to being a teenager again after a date. Working out how keen you want to sound by the speed of your reply and then, when you do reply, carefully sculpting that reply to not sound too desperate.

  An hour later and Steve hadn't replied. Maybe I had scared him off by replying about five seconds after the message. Oh no, my teenage years were coming back to haunt me. Perhaps I should have left it at least ten seconds before replying. It was awful; I was literally on the edge of my seat, waiting for a message.

  Come the end of the day, there was still nothing. I sent Steve another message. Again, nothing. It is now 10 p.m. and I have just sent another. I'm slightly concerned now that I may be stalking him – another flashback from years past. I never thought I would be a beekeeper, let alone a stalking one. This is awful, I must stop.

  FEBRUARY 13

  It has been two days and I still haven't heard anything! Not even one miserly hello! Have the bees disappeared? Has he not picked up my 'tweet'? I feel like I have taken one step up the ladder of being a beekeeper only to have fallen off and landed on my backside.

  I have to get in contact with him somehow. I mentioned it to a local beekeeper that I have got to know, Adam, who incidentally came to my attention by commenting on my blog and later we found out that he will probably be teaching me the practical side of beekeeping with the Reigate Beekeepers: a nice coincidence. He said that gaining a nuc of bees from people you don't know can be a dangerous thing to do because you won't know their history or what type of honeybee they are.

  What type of honeybee? I thought it was quite simple. There were honeybees, bumblebees, and solitary bees. I now find out there are hundreds of different varieties within this set-up. Note to self: must read up on this pretty quickly!

  FEBRUARY 14

  As a tall, spotty youth, frustrated by the fact that my mum still cut my hair at the age of fourteen, resulting in a rather embarrassing kiss-curl in the middle of my forehead, Valentine's Day was always a tense occasion. There was always a nervous wait as the postman walked down the path and I would secretly watch him each year. This did stop after the year I got overexcited at a card actually being delivered to me which wasn't from my Nan. I opened it in a fit of joy as only a teenager could who had never before received a real Valentine's Day card. Imagine my additional excitement when it wasn't signed with a question mark but a name. I could work out the word 'Tiger' in a scrawl which temporarily got me even more excited until I realised that this was the name my best mate gave to his three-year-old sister. I made a pact never to look for a postman on Valentine's Day ever again.

  I will admit to a little twinge of excitement yesterday though as the post dropped through the letterbox. I saw a large A4 envelope with my name on it and the small postmark of the BBKA (British Beekeepers' Association) but have only just had the chance to actually open it and peer in. I applied for membership a few weeks ago now and so this must mean that they have been mad enough to actually accept me as a member. The welcome pack included the following:

  • A standard welcome letter

  • A really useful booklet entitled 'Advice for Beekeepers'

  • A bit about the organisational structure of the BBKA and its democratic notions (!)

  • A leaflet called 'Bee Books, New and Old'

  • A small leaflet entitled 'BBKA Enterprises'; basically what you can buy through them

  • A leaflet stating that you could get some more leaflets from them about all the diseases

  • A raffle ticket for me to purchase (must remember to do this)

  • A FERA (Food and Environment Research Agency) booklet about 'managing varroa'

  • My first copy of the monthly BBKA News

  Now I have to say that it was lovely to receive this through the post but, if I am completely honest, I feel a little let down by it. Now that may sound harsh, but I mean it from a constructive perspective. It is obviously a very historic organisation (founded in 1874, it states on the paperwork) but the impression I get from this information is that it is still run by those historic methods.

  The indicators of this include: photocopied sheets of paper, advertising leaflets that you can send off for (they do state it is available on the website but only small and at the bottom) and the BBKA News, which is simply words and no pictures. The information is fantastic but it isn't particularly inviting.

  Now, we are all aware of the explosion in beekeeping at the moment. Surely this is the time to update methods and publications. I am sure t
hat the new member coming forward will be like me, a slightly younger demographic (based on the evidence so far it stands true) and one that is not yet experienced in the art of beekeeping. Therefore, the BBKA News especially needs to be more inviting and readable, and ultimately needs to look after the new beekeepers that won't have the faintest clue what they are doing.

  I am thrilled to be learning how to be a beekeeper and I am sure there are many others out there who are as well, but let's bring it up to date and introduce it to a new generation. It is always better to start at the grass roots, isn't it?

  FEBRUARY 15

  I am sitting here in the study, looking outside and feeling a little bit guilty.

  This weekend was 'cut the willow' weekend. We have had a huge, beautiful willow dominating our garden. It was beginning to look like Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons and needed a haircut. My guilt is due to the fact that honeybees (and other foragers for that matter) love willow for early season nectar, something I never knew before. I didn't even realise that trees were a really important part of the honeybee's diet! My only justification was that I haven't any bees yet so next year they will love some new, fresh growth.