From A to Bee(73)

It wasn't the end of the world. I just had to remove the hive stand on the bottom, which would give me another 10 centimetres to work with. Off I stumbled back to the hive area, and off came the ratchet to let me prise it all apart.



This was where it got tricky as I tried to break the stand away from the hive. Even using the hive tool it was practically impossible. I couldn't get any purchase on lifting up the hive except with the stand. Because the super and brood box were filled with bees I couldn't be too heavy-handed, because they weren't fixed together. The last thing I needed was to force it and to dislodge the super from the brood box, and thus let countless bees out of the hive that probably wouldn't be too happy.



It must have taken about half an hour of nervous and scary manoeuvres to create a small gap between the bottom of the hive and the stand. As I was fixing the ratchet I was literally putting my ear right up against the hive and all I could hear was the noise of 50,000 bees hemmed in, trying to work out exactly what was going on. I tried not to think what might happen if I dropped the hive off the stand. Just as I managed to get the ratchet in place, the stand wobbled and the hive moved about one inch off the hive stand, onto its dodgy and rather weakened leg – the one I had put the misplaced nail into all those months before. I saw it wobble, knowing this one leg couldn't take the weight, but fortunately managed to grab it in time. I had a very, very tense moment or two. The sound of the bees was terrifying, as it must have felt to them like an Italian Job moment, when the bus is precariously placed over the side of a mountain pass. I started to breathe normally again as I realised all was OK.



I lifted the hive to the car once more but this time without the stand, and fortunately it fitted in fine. A wave of relief came over me as I realised the move was still on for the morning so I put the hive back on the stand. Having taken off my bee suit I put it and the rest of the kit I would need into the car and I was pretty much ready for the morning. The only thing I would have to do tomorrow morning is bulk up my entrance block. I am sure there must be something on the market that is far more professional than a gauze/masking tape bodge job but it's far too late in the day for that. I just need something that will keep them in place for forty-five minutes before I unleash them on their new home, which I am still to see. I wonder what it is like.



My last job this evening was to simply open up the entrance again to allow some ventilation. This was pretty stupid as I had put everything in the car ready for tomorrow, including the suit. I couldn't be bothered to put it all back on again and as it was getting dark I didn't think there would be a problem. After all, it sounded quite calm in there now. I bent down beside the hive and prised the masking tape off and then gently took out the pins which held the gauze in place. I then gently took away the gauze and all was fine. For some reason I then decided to shine the torch at the entrance and WHAM, two guard bees came straight at me buzzing frantically. Why oh why did I do that?!



I ran as fast as I could from the hive, leapfrogged my raised beds and headed straight for the exit of my allotment. They were still after me and weren't letting up. I continued at a rather fast walking pace towards home and after about a hundred metres it went quiet, much to my relief. However, all was not over and they must have regrouped, plotted and planned. Five metres further on they made another sustained attack and this time they must have split up. As one attacked my head, the other went in for the kill on my now exposed belly seeing as my arms were waving frantically around.



One sting on the belly button and then within about five seconds I got a second. Ouch, they really hurt this time but I suppose that will teach me a lesson. As I trudged back in silence I made a mental note never to shine a torch at a beehive entrance again.



All that aside, I am hoping that it is like a heather heaven when I open them up tomorrow morning at their new home as they fly out of the hive into a river of nectar.





AUGUST 21





Having had four stings in twenty-four hours, I was feeling a little bit silly today. I mean, how desperate must I be to get this jar of honey? I wouldn't have got stung had I not wanted to move the hive. There must be a moral there, or maybe the bees just know something is up.



Anyway, when I got back last night I searched high and low for an alternative to masking tape and gauze and found… nothing. No electrical tape or gaffer tape as I had hoped, and no foam to block up the entrance either. I was stuck with the method I had used last night, which I didn't have a lot of faith in. However, I decided to take it one stage further and so I was now armed with masking tape (lots of it), the gauze and then tea towels; yes, that's right, tea towels.