From A to Bee

by James Dearsley

  Given the fact that I had had absolutely no luck trying to speak to Polish people so far, I felt I should give it another go here and try to strike up a conversation about bees with these guys. This was after all the country where 'modern' beekeeping began with Johann Dzierzon. The blueprint of his hive design back in 1838 formed the basis of many of the hive designs used today. I was hoping that our mutual love of bees might see me through the lack of mutual language if they didn't speak English. As I approached, waving perhaps overenthusiastically and said hello, my fears were pretty much confirmed. They looked at me blankly and their lips and moustaches hardly flinched as they said 'czesc', or hello, back to me. My 'How are you? I am a beekeeper too' was perhaps a step too far. More blank stares as the two of them just stood there.

  My attempts at sign language were also a bit lame and I felt beaten back by the moustaches. For some reason they didn't understand me when I pointed at myself and then ran around for a bit buzzing away and then pointed at the honey. I think it must have been the suit as other people were now stopping to watch. The look they were all giving me was not dissimilar to the look that Sebastian often gives me when I run around him buzzing. Maybe nineteen-month-old children and Polish gentlemen with monster moustaches have more in common than you might think.

  I stopped, resigned to the fact it was never going to work. Having spent all my zlotys I couldn't even buy a jar of honey, which looked a fabulously dark colour. I left defeated but as I bid them farewell, one lifted an arm as if to wave while the other uttered 'pozegnanie', which means goodbye. I felt I had finally connected but it may just be that they were glad to see the back of this rather crazy Englishman. As I walked away, I did turn back for one last look at these moustached Polish beekeepers and they were just looking at each other with a rather strange expression; one then shrugged whilst the other started laughing. I must have made some sort of impression. I am just not sure whether it was a good one.

  MAY 16

  The experience of dealing with Polish people and their impressive moustaches is over and I am now back in the UK. It looked like the weather would hold and so Jo and I decided to pop over to RHS Wisley again as it's only about half an hour from us. We were aiming to go to areas of the garden that we hadn't been to before, including a fantastic tree that is flowering at the moment, which is quite a rare event. It is called a 'handkerchief tree' because its flowers are like handkerchiefs. When the wind picks up it is beautiful and elegant to look at and it gives off a faint and delicate aroma that is simply magical. Visiting Wisley is quite a strange thing for me. I leave it feeling inspired, jealous and a little bit humbled. What they do there is simply incredible and my hat comes off to the gardeners there – their attention to detail is second to none.

  As we were walking through the allotment area, something I am always keen on doing, we came to the lettuces which, though so simple, were out of this world. They alternated green and red varieties and as I was looking at them, drooling somewhat, Jo said under her breath as if in disbelief, 'They are all identical in size and the straightest lines I have ever seen.' It was an incredible display and crikey, these were just lettuces.

  Other particular favourites of mine at this time of year are rhododendrons and azaleas. Sebastian evidently loved them as well and it was only then that I realised he had the eyesight of a fighter jet pilot. Every five seconds he would shout out 'bee' and then get all excited. There in amongst the exquisite flowers were bees, darting around from flower to flower making my son's head swing wildly from side to side as if he was at Wimbledon watching the tennis. Jo and I were just smiling and watching the simple pleasure he was getting from watching these small insects buzzing around. The words 'like father, like son' were uttered and I couldn't agree more. It was really lovely to watch, but even lovelier to see him excited by them and also knowing what they were. OK, the fact that later he thought a woodlouse was a bee as well was neither here nor there…

  We all went and had a great lunch and then finished the visit off in the library. The people there are always helpful, and today was no exception. As I returned one of my borrowed books about bees, the lady behind the counter saw Sebastian and recommended to us the bee books in the children's section. Things so often missing these days: a mixture of good service and knowing what people want. Sure enough, in the collection of books about insects, bugs and all things creepy crawly were some about bees. Sebastian immediately shouted 'Bee!' at the top of his voice, much to the amusement of others in the library, and then proceeded to read the book from cover to cover.

  We came away with two more books on loan including Sebastian's bee book, and all very happy and fulfilled – what a great day out as a family.

  MAY 23

  Another week and still no bees and no word back yet. I will try to call the supplier of the nucleus this week I think to see just what is going on. I have a primary concern of actually getting them but a secondary concern that if I am able to magic them up from somewhere, they will have to quickly make enough honey for me to actually get a jar.

  I am starting to put the word out that I would like to get a swarm. I suppose it is covering all bases, and should my second hive arrive I'll want another lot of bees. There seem to be a few people who are offering to help me out and given the weather of the last couple of days, by far the best of the year so far, this week could be a busy week because bees will swarm in good sunny weather. I will contact them directly this week.

  The irony of all this is that I am actually really nervous about having my own bees. Any time now I could be getting a phone call that my bees are ready to go. I am not sure that I am quite ready for that level of responsibility. It is a funny sensation being excited on the one hand, frustrated at not having them on the other and then exceedingly nervous at the same time!

  All in all, this is a pivotal week and I predict by the end of it I may actually have become a beekeeper and not one that is just pretending. My days of being a theoretical beekeeper will have ended.

  MAY 24

  The Chelsea Flower Show started today without me as I didn't order tickets in time this year. I have decided that scaling the fence is not an option so I will just have to watch it on TV. I feel slightly upset as I have gone for the last few years and loved it. However, it is all hotting up regarding the bee situation.

  I heard a rumour yesterday that one of the local beekeepers was running out of boxes to collect swarms. As I've mentioned before, to collect a swarm, you basically give your association a brood box full of frames and foundation, and when they are called to a swarm they take your box with them. I am definitely going to hand over my brood box on Wednesday when I go to the practical evening. The temperature touched 28 degrees Celsius today so there are plenty of swarms around at the moment and I should almost be guaranteed some bees.

  I also texted the guy who said he would be supplying my nucleus to see what he's up to, having not heard back by email. Considering I was meant to be getting the bees at the start of May it does seem a little bit late and I haven't heard a thing. I got a phone call back almost immediately but he rang my home number and left a message. In a fit of confusion – we do have the most complicated and stupid phone set-up in the world – the message was mistakenly deleted before I got a chance to listen to it but Jo is certain it said something along the lines of, 'Your bees are OK and it will be another week.' Rumour has it that he is having a problem with the queens – God knows what problems he is having but I suppose queens will be queens.

  As I said, this could be a very interesting week.

  MAY 26

  Today's practical session with my local association was the best session yet but there were two very significant incidents.

  It all started with me trudging through the car park with my brood box, filled with frames, ready to hand it to the first person who said, 'Ah perfect, just what I need, I have a swarm for you.' However, I doubted it was going to be that easy, and it didn't help that I was finding the simple task of wa
lking with a brood box difficult enough. After taking only two steps, I tripped and fell into the bonnet of my car promptly putting a great big scratch along it. What a great start.

  One of the ladies in the group, Suzy, was there to greet me. She has actually been reading my blog and asking about my lack of bees, and she said that I should speak to Richard at tonight's session. This is the same chap who was running out of boxes and my mentor, Adam, had also recommended I see him tonight. Great news, I thought, only to find that Richard wasn't in fact there. Just my luck.

  In fact, it got even more farcical when I found out that almost all of my fellow beekeepers had now got their bees. Bearing in mind I had thought long and hard about where I would get my bees from and didn't follow the crowd, and opted for a guarantee of bees by buying a nucleus, I was spitting feathers as it slowly dawned on me that I had got it all wrong. This often happens in supermarkets when I pick the wrong queue, having analysed them all for some time and thinking I had picked the one that seems to be moving the quickest. It's just typical that this year is a very swarmy year, too many swarms around, while my nucleus maker is having a few problems…

  Apparently Eddie, another beekeeper, would be happy to take on my boxes to catch a swarm and so I went to meet him in Richard's absence. Nice guy, but he took one look at my box and said nope, I had the wrong type of floor for a swarm. I was slightly dumbfounded and saw others around me smirking. According to Eddie, swarms prefer a solid floor and not an open mesh floor, which I had been told to buy from pretty much every other beekeeper. Stumped once more, here I was with what I believed to be a five-star hotel of a bee box and it wasn't quite right, for Eddie at least.

  It was evident from others later that Eddie is a little rigid in his beliefs about swarms only settling in certain boxes and won't hear of any other opinion. I couldn't really argue with him.

  To cut a long story short, once we were at the pub and I was being consoled by the others, Adam said he would take my box and deliver it to Richard but did mention that Eddie wasn't wrong about the type of floor to use. He stated that it is generally accepted that solid floors are better for bees when housing a swarm than an open-mesh one. Usually people will swap a few weeks after housing the swarm. Result. Either way, maybe I will get my bees this week after all.

  The other story started with Tom, my worldly wise tutor, suggesting we all learn how to pick up the bees. In went Tom with finger and thumb and just effortlessly picked one up.

  This was a step too far for me. Picking up bits of wooden frame with bees on them was one thing. Actually picking up a live bee complete with a weapon of mass destruction was quite another. Tom suggested starting with drones as they have no sting and they are a little fatter and therefore easier to pick up. I was still not convinced, but in launched Richard and other fellow group member, Andrew, without even thinking. They both harpooned a bee immediately and looked at them studiously. Neil, a nice guy and the only other in the group tonight not to attempt to pick up a bee, looked at me and I at him; gladly I could see that he was as sceptical as I was.

  I couldn't be made to look like a wimp and so I made several willing advances towards the bees, finger and thumb extended and doing the occasional pincer action to show intent. Each time I got to within a whisker of a bee it moved. Damn moving things! In fact, I was breathing a deep sigh of relief each time they moved but kept up the pretence by making huffing noises and claiming the drones I was going for were obviously a fast strain. I'm not sure I fooled anybody.

  I am determined, next week I must pick up a bee, even if it does turn around, shout out that I am trapping its leg and then proceed to sting me. I need to get it out of the way sometime, I suppose.

  All in all it was a great session and one really worth going to.

  MAY 28

  People have many traits that they take from their parents. I am fortunate to have picked up the best sides of both parents and am pretty laid back, quite decisive and a relatively good communicator (or so I am told). However, one of my many faults is impatience. Now I am about to pay for it.

  At the start of the week I felt it would be a busy week, and I wasn't wrong. I hadn't heard anything about the nucleus and the rumour mill was suggesting the first week of June, contrary to what the guy had told me. So, having become excited and given my box away to catch a swarm on Wednesday, which was apparently imminent, I received a phone call today to say that my nucleus was ready to be picked up. How typical and how completely ironic. This leaves me in a position of having some bees but now I have no hive, a complete turnaround on the last few months.

  In my head I had calculated that I could give away my brood box to catch a swarm and in the meantime receive delivery of the Beehaus. I would then transfer the bees from the nucleus to the Beehaus instead – perfect, I thought. In fact, having talked to Omlet today I now realise this is a pipe dream. It is not due to arrive at Omlet until the end of next week as there have been some last-minute modifications, which they want to update before giving me the hive. My shoulders sagged and I heard my mother's voice saying 'told you so' reverberating around in my head. I have therefore had to pass on the nucleus offered so he can give that one to someone else. I will just have to wait another couple of weeks to get the next round. Hopefully by that time I will have a swarm safely ensconced in the National hive.

  Trying to get a guarantee of bees I have put myself again in a position where nothing is guaranteed! Oh well, let's soldier on and hope that an army of bees is swarming somewhere around Reigate, that a nucleus of bees in Farnham is brewing nicely and that Omlet is confident that the Beehaus is on its way.

  MAY 30

  Well, today has been a most interesting day.

  Sebastian met up with all his mates today and was having a whale of a time just larking about. It is amazing the transition in just twenty months, now seeing the little characters coming out and long-term friendships settling in. At one point, Sebastian walked up to Jo, bottom lip out and quivering. 'Bee' was the word being uttered as his little eyes started to well up a little. Immediately we started to see what the matter was and decided he wasn't just uttering letters of the alphabet at us. We started stripping him off and checking he was OK and sure enough as we removed his arm from a sleeve, a little bumblebee just flew out, completely unharmed. Sebastian very quickly started smiling again, shouting 'Bee!' at the top of his voice and excitedly jumping up and down. After a check, no stings were discovered and we all concluded that the bee had been playing hide and seek for a little while.

  We got back home and put Sebastian to sleep and I then asked Jo to help me film my first lighting of the smoker in readiness to put the clip on YouTube; a very piquant moment. I realised I hadn't lit my new smoker yet and felt I had better just test it out. Thankfully, it went very smoothly and lit first time. The smell is something indescribable but already cemented in my memory bank. Jo was impressed, I think, and I felt caveman-like, much like most men do when they light a bonfire.

  Our lovely neighbours Jo and Nicky saw me light the smoker and were intrigued and so I popped around and showed them what it was all about. Walking back from their house I received the phone call which was to change my life. It was about 7.30 p.m. by this point and a lovely evening with a few clouds in the sky and a number I didn't recognise popped up on my mobile. As soon as I heard the voice and the name Richard I knew what it was about. Richard – the 'swarm-catcher' for the Reigate area.

  This could mean only one thing. Having given my box away on Wednesday to Adam, not only must he have given my box to Richard as he said he would, but he must have a swarm for me. Here was 'the call'.

  Apparently some bees had swarmed into a nursing home's garden. Not only that, but they looked like they were Suzy from the beekeeping association's bees, who were swarming for the second time in seventy-two hours. On the Wednesday she mentioned that she had some rather prolific bees swarming, and here they were, ready and waiting for me. It sounds as if they were simply running out of ro
om in her hive and had to get out.

  Here I was talking to an experienced beekeeper who was having to deal with all of this late on a Sunday evening and it was quite a surreal, one-sided conversation. It went a little like this:

  'I have a swarm for you, I have your box, they are fanning at the entrance and it looks like it was a successful catch. Can you come and collect them?'

  With Suzy shouting various bits of information in the background as to how to get there it was all over in about a minute. At least he proved that you don't necessarily need a solid floor for a swarm – that was my first thought. I was suddenly incredibly excited but also a nervous wreck. Eight months' worth of reading, writing, investigating and learning was about to pay off with this simple and unemotional one-minute phone call. It all seemed so easy and straightforward with one exception: I still didn't feel remotely ready.