Swarming bees are the easiest way to increase the size of your apiary.
This page was last updated on 15th November, 2018.
Reproduction in the honey bee life cycle occurs in two ways. During a honey flow there's natural growth within the hive as the queen starts laying more eggs; more workers are needed to collect nectar and pollen - their carbohydrate and protein (and some fat) - their food. Bees only eat raw honey for carbohydrate; it's quite different to the supermarket stuff. Take a blinded test if you don't believe me.
And the sweetening of our food, in moderation like all carbohydrate, if we know how to manage the bees and harvest the raw honey.
But secondly, it's an opportunity to spread the species, not unlike Columbus sailing out into the unknown. And that's done via swarming bees; a new queen is bred and, just before she hatches, the old lady and half the colony move out on a warm sunny day in search of a new home.
Several days before the bees swarm, scouts go out into the neighbourhood looking for a suitable hive site. When you see them moseying about an outside shed, under the eves or a pile of boxes, then there's a possibility that a new colony will be arriving on the next hot, sunny day.
You notice a build up of workers sussing out the chosen site, cleaning out any debris and getting Buckingham Palace ready for Her Majesty. Suddenly, there's a loud droning sound and the sky is filled with tiny flying black dots. Slowly the bees congregate around the box, landing all around, in this case on the brick wall.
Queen Bee is somewhere there, but you're unlikely to see her; she's a little larger than the rest, but very shy and they keep her well out of view.
Back in the old hive, usually half a dozen queens are near to hatching. They start to make a loud trumpeting sound from within the still sealed cells.
That's the message for the old lady; get out, or you'll be attacked and most likely killed by the first young virgin queen, unfertilized and unencumbered by thousands of eggs in her abdomen.
In the honey flow, a queen can lay up to 1000 eggs per day. She's no match for the young virgin. So she leaves, taking half the swarm.
Swarming bees are one of nature's miracles; a wonder to behold.
Around any beekeeper's home there are invariably half a dozen empty hives. They smell of honeycomb, and propolis; the perfect place for a new home.
Watch closely and you'll see the bees scuttling in.
These bees arrive mostly during a honeyflow, or if their old home has been destroyed for one reason or another. At this time, an organised beekeeper will make sure old boxes like these are full of the frames that hold the wax.
This wasn't honeyflow season, and this beekeeper wasn't prepared. Those boxes are quite empty without any frames. Now I have work to do to hive them properly.
Ten minutes later there's hardly a bee in sight. The whole swarm has vanished inside. Immediately they will set about building new comb and within a day the queen will lay the first eggs; within three weeks they will start hatching and the future of the colony is assured.
If she's a strong, young queen, the growth will exponential and within a few months there'll be the first bottle of honey for the beekeeper. It could be you.
Raw honey is a rare product these days; most is heated and highly filtered to remove any "foreign particles." That unfortunately includes the pollen that makes raw honey so unique.
You either keep bees yourself, and it all starts with swarming bees, or you find a small beekeeper who can assure you that he hasn't meddled with this healthy choice food. You won't find it generally in the shops.
The irony of it is that raw honey requires less processing, and really should be cheaper; it's easier to produce. But because it's so rare, you'll pay a premium.
Find your own bees! It's been the hobby of a lifetime, the one that's stuck for nearly sixty years. Remembering too that beekeeping is one of the few hobbies that definitely pays its way; last year I harvested over five hundred 500g jars from ten hives; this year it's going on 700. We always have a few extra Rands for little luxuries. This year it's going to be a top notch Canon camera that I've been wanting for a long time; all paid for, thanks to swarming bees.
Raw honey, rich in pollen, is one of nature's healthy choice foods; better still we should eat natural honeycomb, but that's impossibly expensive for all but beekeepers and the idle rich. But the bottled stuff you buy in the supermarket, in the main, can best be described alas as a highly processed junk food; rather consider a hive in the garden and one of those swarming bees colony.
If you're serious about your honey, think about swarming bees for you and your children; it's been the hobby of a lifetime.
Last week a new swarm moved into one of my swarming bee traps, so the last few days have been busy with preparing a spot for them. Two trees, unwanted in any case because they shade the veggie garden have to come down.
Having these swarming bees in the garden means 100% pollination too; that means masses of butternut squash, fresh green peas, limes and lemons, and avocados and the like.
Bernard Preston is a retired chiropractor, catcher of swarming bees, organic gardener, solar guru and general health nut. Oh, and a writer. His books are dirt cheap on Amazon as Ebooks.
Now with seven hives, he's looking for more bees to get to ten. Then he'll have ample honey for Christmas and birthday gifts and making honey mead. They never make white elephants!
Of course, there are several stories about beekeeping in my three books of chiropractic anecdotes. Read one of the free tidbits from Bats in my Belfry ... Bee under the mitre is one of my favourite stories.
Special honey is another short story; a gem by Geoff Elliott.
Only $2.99 buys you the Kindle version to read on your favourite eReader. Download Bats in any instant.