The first thing that struck me as I entered the apiary was how small it was. There were ten hives in total, meaning that in the height of summer they would house over half a million bees in an area probably about 25 feet by about 20 feet – can you imagine if they all swarmed at once! It seemed almost claustrophobically small given the content within.
Before I could go much further with this train of thought, Tom went right up to the first hive and took the roof off. Underneath the roof was the cover board, the small wooden membrane that separates the world from the bees. There was no time to be nervous but my mouth was getting slightly dry at this point. Would there be many bees? Would they fly all around me? Would they make a beeline for me? As I went into a trance-like state, Tom kindly asked me to move away from the entrance as I would be right in their way as they flew into and out of the hive. Needless to say I moved out of the way very quickly. Tom then lifted the cover board a fraction to puff some smoke from the newly lit smoker inside. There were a few bees crawling around. Then after a few minutes he lifted the cover board off completely and started to remove the frames. I watched, fascinated.
Tom was checking the level of stores available on each frame; apparently this was necessary as we might need to feed them until they could start to regularly forage again. As he removed a frame to check it, hundreds of bees would fly into the air. It was an incredible sensation to see thirty beekeepers surrounded by thousands of bees that were coming out of the hives all around us and the sound was immense. The buzzing was incredible, and powerful is perhaps the only way I can describe it. Sitting in the garden on a summer's day and hearing a wasp or bee fly by or nestle into the flower next to you is nothing like the sound of thousands of bees flying around you. I suppose I have just come to terms with opening up one beehive and being surrounded by some bees. Seeing this multiplied by so much for my first time was both mesmerising and terrifying. I was struggling to keep calm and put aside the urge to make a run for it. For all of my thirty-one years I have become very apt at avoiding situations with bees or wasps as I was taught that anything looking vaguely yellow and black is going to hurt you. Here I was surrounded by them and as time went on I started to feel all right about it. I think it helped that everyone around me was in the same situation.
There were a couple of times when the bees landed on my hands which felt a little too close for comfort. I suppose, on reflection, it is similar to having a small spider crawling over your hand with that ever so slight tickling sensation as they wander around. Like with the spider, it is only the visual aspect of it that makes the tickling sensation more apparent and, in my case I was very thankful when they decided to fly off elsewhere. Throughout the whole session I was convinced that I could feel something crawling up my back, which can only be because of my rather small bee suit and the mental tricks it was playing on my mind. I must have looked quite strange constantly pulling down my bee suit over my back. Another strange sensation was seeing a bee crawl right in front of me, across the veil, millimetres from my nose. I felt like that cartoon dog when the bee lands on its nose and its eyes go crossed keeping sight of it. I have not crossed my eyes since I was about seven years old, which was only a matter of fun and I was trying to impress a girl. Here I was, as an adult, staring cross-eyed at a completely different female form and feeling equally stupid in the process.
The twenty minutes or so we spent inside the apiary, although uncomfortable at times, were utterly compelling and really captivated me. A lot of what I had learned on the course fell into place at that point. Suddenly I could understand the differences between the hives; we went through a WBC, a National and a polystyrene one – apparently these always get the bees started early in the year as they manage to keep the bees warmer in winter, but are a nightmare to clean, though they are a lot cheaper. It really helped me understand the fact that the bees all cuddle together to keep warm, to learn about the honey stores and where they are, about the capped egg cells, what a queen looks like… I could keep going and going.
Once I had struggled out of my bee suit, relieved I hadn't been stung – in fact nobody had – we went through the crucial skill of lighting a smoker. If it goes out mid-inspection I can only imagine the chaos as the smoker is there to calm the bees down. It makes them feel that the hive is on fire and so they concentrate on gathering stores to leave the hive rather than attack whoever is entering their hive. After a while they realise that the smoke has gone and they go back to normal. However, if a beekeeper is still checking through a hive I would imagine it to be quite fun and the bees may get a little feisty. This is why it was a really useful skill to learn and one I will be pleased to get under my belt. As far as I am concerned, the smoker is as much a part of beekeeping as the hive and the suit. It is almost synonymous with the hobby and so I was glad to get the chance to light one. I thought it would be easy but alas, no.