Narratives and advice from beekeepers across the globe and through the centuries
A hunt for the most elusive bees leads Dave Goulson from Salisbury Plain to Sussex hedgerows, from Poland to Patagonia. Whether he is tracking great yellow bumblebees in the Hebrides or chasing orchid bees through the Ecuadorian jungle. Dave Goulson’s wit, humour and deep love of nature makes him the ideal travelling companion.
This utterly charming book will inspire you to think about the ways in which we are all responsible for the future of our world. Through his scientific expertise and passion for conversation, Goulson shows us natures resilience against the odds, and that beauty hides in the most surprising places.
For some years I have taken to writing an essay for the Essay Class in the National Honey Show. I was delighted to be receiving either a Third or a Very Highly Commended ticket. Then in 2009 The Art of Coarse Beekeeping won me first prize to be followed by another first for Bees and Darwin in 2010. I would like to think that you will enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
EXTRACT FROM THE BOOK:
CHAPTER 8. THE ART OF COARSE BEEKEEPING.
You must consider carefully before following the path of coarse beekeeping. Its disciples must have the same dedication and attention to fine detail as those who take up any other intricate hobby such as piano smashing.
The first steps of the coarse beekeeper are easy. Your local library will provide you with a copy of one of the many books written by an experienced beekeeper which will illustrate the equipment needed and describe in detail the life style of the honey bee. Many experienced beekeepers feel it is incumbent on them to write such a book.
Do remember to renew you possession of the book at the library before fines are imposed, that would never do.
The same library may be able to put you in touch with a local beekeeping association and give you details of their meetings. You should go to a meeting and introduce yourself as being keen to learn about the craft. At this stage a demonstration of enthusiasm works wonders. It might also get you a copy of a beekeeping equipment dealers catalogue. This will save you having to contact one since none, so far as I know, have 0800 telephone numbers. Although allowing yourself to enquire generally about membership and the possibility of free beekeeping classes your enthusiasm should not allow you to actually pay a subscription.
Reading the catalogue together with the beginner’s book will immediately convince you that your first pound of honey could be very expensive indeed. However the coarse beekeeper knows that no corner must be left uncut in the search for true perfection.
Your occasional attendance at a meeting, or the hoped for classes, will allow you time to gather up the minimum amount of such essential equipment that can’t be substituted by other items. A longish screwdriver and a paint scraper from your toolbox would replace a hive tool. A suitable length of net curtain worn over a broad brimmed hat and tucked well into a jacket could well replace safety equipment such as a veil. A more sophisticated version I have seen is an old fencing mask with further material sewn around it to prevent access by bees. A replacement for a smoker is more difficult unless of course you are a smoker yourself in which case a pipe filled with well rubbed War Horse or a small cigar will suit admirably and yes I have seen it done.
At association meetings always listen for mention of old Harry having passed away or old Jimmy packing up because of his bad back. Here are sources of cheap equipment. Not necessarily good equipment because old beekeepers are noted for putting up with much loved and familiar equipment long after it really should have been changed.
Getting bees is relatively simple. Set out a hive with some used comb in it and wait for a swarm to take up residence. Success largely depends on how far away you are from the nearest beekeeper and could take some time or even fail altogether. A more certain way is to inform local police offices and pest control of officers, both of whom are told of swarms having landed in a variety of odd spots, that you are prepared to collect a swarm within a given distance of your home. You should undoubtedly get you some bees that way. Do have a care to check before your journey that they are actually a swarm of bees and not an underground bumble bee nest.
We now look at the management of the bees. It is a fact that the less bees are disturbed by the beekeeper the better they are for it and the more honey you will be able to gather. Disease in bees has become an ever-increasing problem over recent years and must be addressed at all costs. Gone are the days when a coarse beekeeper need only take the roof off a hive twice a year. Once in the Spring to check that the bees flying in and out are actually living there and not robbing and to put some supers on and again in late summer to take off the honey supers. Unless disease is tackled there is little doubt that you will lose your bees. There is of course the short term option of requesting the seasonal bees officer visit you to check your bees. I say “short term” because success in any case depends on what you tell him and I fancy the man will soon whittle out the over-coarse beekeeper who is merely using him so learn quickly from him what you will need to do. The “term” gets very short if you try the old trick of “while you’re in there could you mark and or clip the queen for me, add or remove supers” etc?
Otherwise management is mainly concerned with swarm prevention, queen rearing and honey harvesting. Swarm control means far too many visits to and manipulations of the hive and the colony or fiddling about with multi gated boards to suit the true coarse beekeeper. If you allow the bees to swarm in their own time you can save all that work. This also has the effect that you may well be able to collect the resulting swarm from where it rests and put it into another of the late Harry’s hives. You will also get a new queen in your existing hive without the bother of all that troublesome queen rearing.
This leaves only the honey harvesting. Although it may be unusual advise for the coarse beekeeper a certain amount of time spent in the preparation will in the long run save both time and money. Buy unwired wax for your honey supers it is cheaper. Cut sheets length-wise into 4 equal strips and t one strip at the top of each frame. Only the most profligate beekeeper would use more. The bees will form their own cells along and below these strips. When it comes to harvesting the honey remove the frames, cut carefully along the joint where the bee made cells meet the provided foundation. Cut the oblong block of honey filled comb into sizes to the cut comb containers or old margarine tubs depending on the destination of the honey. Properly labelled cut comb containers can be sold. That in old margarine tubs can be used to pay any tradesmen prepared to barter his labour for your honey. They are out there, I have had roofs mended and cars repaired.
The coarse beekeeper’s preparation of the bees for winter is to go indoors and forget about them until spring. There is no need to mention mouse guards because unless the late Harry had them fitted to the hives when he died the coarse beekeeper is unlikely to own any.
Similarly wasted is the advice not to brush any snow off the hives because it helps to insulate the colony. It would never cross the coarse beekeepers mind to do such a thing.
And so the coarse beekeeper’s year ends. If the advise on the unavoidable disease control has been followed the bees should survive the winter. They have after all survived several million of them without the ministrations of “proper beekeepers”.
It has always been a well-known fact that products from the beehive are good for human health. However, recent scientific research has proved that various substances produced by honeybees, as well as innumerable possible combinations with plant material, possess real medical properties.
Ten years after its first publication, this book has become a work of reference in its field. Translated by Francine Sagar, this new edition tells us more about the Cuban venture, and brings essential clarification to what has, at last, been recognised within the scientific community as a true solution to natural health.
This the first of a series of booklets which gather together the contributions by leading beekeepers to The Beekeepers Quarterly. Ron Brown OBE, B.Sc was a most practical beekeeper with experience in both in Africa and the UK. These articles cover all aspects of the craft and serve as a fine memorial to a great beekeeper as well as passing on his hard gained knowledge to a new generation of beekeepers.
This collection of articles from The Beekeepers Quarterly, over a period of ten years, gather together the words of wisdom by a Great American Beekeeper. There is much that can be learnt from this reading this slim volume that will improve all beekeeping practice..Researcher, commercial beekeeper and finally bee geneticists – with experience in both America and Europe it was said of Steve that if he said it – ‘it was correct’.
Is there a funny side to beekeeping? Most literature on the subject wags a solemn finger and instructs. Molony’s articles aren’t like that. They’re about various interventions in his beekeeping life – by his wife, by other people who garden near his bees; by being a village beekeeper at the behest of all and sundry. And they’re about being by the sea. Keeping his hives on an allotment that looks out across Lyme Bay brings out its own angle on beekeeping. Having a wife with her own views on bees produces another angle. Notes from a Clifftop Apiary is a light-hearted portrait of beekeeping up against other pressures of the real world: on the one side there’s the sea, on the other there are people. It makes a colourful mix.
Bees have been entwined with our history since the appearance of the earliest humans. Being among them is a full-body experience, Mark Winston writes-from the low hum of tens of thousands of insects and the pungent smell of honey and beeswax, to the sight of workers flying back and forth between flowers and the hive. The experience of an apiary slows our sense of time, heightens our awareness, and inspires awe. It is at once sensual and riveting, intellectually challenging and emotionally rich.
Why is ‘bee time’ so compelling? Because, Winston writes, as we come to know bees, we see an echo of ourselves, and our potential to be more compatibly integrated with each other and the world around us. Bee Time presents Winston’s reflections on three decades spent studying these creatures, and on the lessons they can teach about how humans might better interact with one another and the natural world.
Like us, honeybees are intricately social. How they submerge individual needs into the colony collective provides a lens through which to consider human societies. Winston explains how bees process information, structure work, and communicate, and examines how corporate boardrooms are using bee societies as a model to improve collaboration.
Winston also considers bees’ representation in art and literature as a symbol of survival, from Egyptian tombs decorated with elaborate bee hive scenes, to Virgil, to Sylvia Plath’s poem Wintering, where, going through a dark time, Plath wrote of their winter cluster, “This is the time of hanging on for the bees.”
But the relationship between bees and people has not always been benign: bee populations are diminishing due to human impact, and we cannot afford to ignore what the demise of bees tells us about our own problematic relationship with nature.
Bee Time reflects over thirty years of walking into apiaries, and the lessons learned from a life spent among bees.
Not so long ago, in a small island nation in the South Pacific, beekeepers produced a most peculiar honey. It was much darker than clover honey everyone put on their toast in the morning, and it tasted very different. In fact the honey was a problem: it was hard to get out of the combs, and even harder for beekeepers to sell. This book chronicles the remarkable ‘rags –to-riches’ story of manuka honey, as seen through the eyes of a New Zealand beekeeping specialist who watched it unfold from the very beginning.