For someone who has been around bees for most of his life, it's inspiring to see that David's passion for them remains strong. So are his concerns. Though I understand that we are going to discuss bee diseases at a later date, he obviously can't avoid the elephant in the room: the problems bees are facing. I have read a few articles about the problems but I genuinely didn't realise their extent.
Currently bee colonies are being wiped out at a rate of at least 30 per cent per year, David says, every year. In some cases, beekeepers in the US have been seeing losses reaching 70 per cent in some years. The almond plantations in California are already having to ship in beehives to help pollination as there simply aren't enough bees to do the job locally. Considering this is an 800 million dollar business there is a serious dependence on bees: can you imagine manually pollinating thousands of acres of almond trees? I have heard about a situation in the deepest depths of China where people are employed to walk around orchards all day with feathers on long sticks to manually pollinate fruit trees. I can't quite see this happening in America somehow. Meanwhile, shipping thousands upon thousands of hives could be contributing to the problem, with the bees getting stressed on long journeys.
What is also interesting is the breakdown of the colony. Of the 60,000 bees in the colony, 90–99 per cent of those are the daughters and these are termed the worker bees. The name is particularly relevant when you consider what these bees do in their lifetime:
• Clean the hive and other bees
• Feed the larvae, young bees and the queen
• Deposit the pollen and nectar brought in by older, flying bees into cells and start the conversion to honey
• Maintain the hive's temperature by either huddling together in winter or fanning the hive in summer
• Make wax to build the comb
• Guard the hive from intruders
Incidentally, this is all before they are old enough to leave the hive, about three weeks after they hatch. They then simply work to bring in nectar and pollen for the hive, before dying of exhaustion out on the wing; therefore reducing the work of the others back at the hive. David mentioned that they are the perfect example of a successful democratic society and I can see this already. They all work together for the good of the hive: incredible, really.
It sounds a pretty tough life, especially in comparison to their brothers who seem to have an amazing life! The boy bees are called drones and when I saw a photo of one against a worker, it was like watching an episode of Supersize vs Superskinny. The drone is almost twice the size and is essentially a fat, lazy slob of a bee. The drones simply wander around the hive expecting to be fed, cleaned and generally treated like royalty. Their sole job in life, other than just chilling out, is to mate with a queen. Somehow they know when a queen has left a hive (how do they know that?!) and the drones fly off to a secret location and compete to get their wicked way. Apparently the queen may mate with up to seventeen drones – she must be exhausted after that! If the drones succeed and are one of the lucky ones able to mate with the queen they do meet a pretty swift end. While mating, there seems to be a point where their enthusiasm gets the better of them, as their abdomen splits in two and they die. If they don't succeed in mating, though, they are still alive – I should think they fly with their proverbial tail between their legs back to the hives.
If they don't manage to mate with a queen by the end of the summer season, says David, their sisters, the workers, get the hump. In short they get their wings nibbled off and are booted out of the hive. As they cannot fly off anywhere without wings, they have a miserable end as they succumb to the elements. Therefore, it must be said, they have the most amazing lives but also a rather quick and untimely end!
OCTOBER 3
I find myself at work today daydreaming about bees, which feels a little weird. I am contemplating my understanding of this new world, how little I knew before and how amazing it all is. In just two sessions I feel my taste buds for a new hobby are burning. Never did I think I would want to be known as one of those slightly strange beekeepers, but I can feel I am turning – I know what I'm like. I am most likely to become obsessed. What will my friends, family and colleagues think? I think I will wait some time before telling them my plans for the year.
This concern all stems from a rather tenuous link from my childhood, I think.
I used to have various money-making schemes to raise cash to spend on comics and my addiction to penny sweets; cola bottles and fried eggs in particular. To complement my pocket money I would wash cars and do odd jobs and gardening for people in the local area. I remember once putting little leaflets advertising my services in people's letterboxes to help finance my addiction to The Beano and The Dandy while scoffing flying saucers.