During a dinner party last weekend, a buddy of mine and his girlfriend, both of whom are hobbyist photographers, asked if they could come over and photograph the bees. It may have been the wine, but the thought of friends hanging around the hive taking pictures seemed like a phenomenal idea.
The next day, Scott and his lady showed up, ready to
Suited them up: PICS
They took pics: PICS
GF and I powdered the bees: PICS
Without a doubt, one of the worst things to happen to honeybees of late is the varroa mite. There are pages and pages of written studies on these parasites and I highly encourage anyone interested in the sport of beekeeping to read as much as they can on the matter. Suffice to say, they are bad and beekeepers are struggling to keep them under control.
What are Varroa?
Varroa mites, also known as Evil Incarnate, are essentially minuscule bee-ticks. Oval shaped, reddish-brown, and about a millimeter in diameter, they are similar to normal ticks in that they physically latch on to bees in the wild and hitch a ride back to the hive. Once inside, the female mite finds an open cell with larvae and hides out until the bees cap the cell. Once capped, the female lays eggs and then the babies hatch and suck the blood of the developing larvae. By the time the bee emerges, it is deformed and weakened and usually has a much shorter life span. Emerging along with the mutated bee is a handful more adult mites who then find new cells to infect. From there, the process repeats itself. Left unchecked, an infestation of varroa will weaken a hive to the point of death.
I have no idea why Mother Nature would create such suicidal parasites, but they exist and can lead to hive collapse if you, Keeper Extraordinaire, don’t treat for them. And you’ll have to because as the saying goes, it’s not if you’re hive will get mites, but when.
So what can we do to deal with them? Enter IPM.
IPM:
As newly minted beekeepers, we were encouraged by the BANV experts to learn the ways of Integrated Pest Management (IPM). IPM is a layered offense against pests/mites/evil and keepers monitor and treat them in increasing levels of intensity as needed. You start with passive methods (like screened bottom boards), then move to “soft” methods for treatment (like powdered sugar, essential oils, etc) and eventually work up to hard chemicals (stuff that comes with bio warnings, hand grenades, etc).
When I’d first purchased my hive, I made sure to buy a screened bottom board. According to books and “sea stories” from other keepers, the screened bottom board was my first line of defense against the dreaded varroa. Even they cling to bees, a certain percentage get knocked off or cleaned off inside. The screened bottom board allows the mites to fall through and, since they can’t fly and require direct contact to latch on, they die. Good riddance, too.
Screened bottom boards also allow for mite counts. Most beekeeping supply companies sell bottom boards with removable plastic boards that catch whatever detritus falls through. A typical mite count is conducted over three days and it is important for a keeper to have thresholds for when/if to treat. In the Spring mites will likely be fewer, but by Fall, with the winter population on the rise, most hives will see an explosion of mites. Conducting monthly counts will keep your finger on the pulse of mite levels in the hive and, if things are looking like they are getting out of hand, gives you the tools do decide what your next course of action will be.
Discovering the Mites:
The first month of owning my hive, I was blissfully happy because the bees were foraging like mad-women and the mite count was zero. Everything changed the second month when I conducted my count and discovered 15 of the little twits on the mite board. They were small and hard to pick out among the fallen pollen, bee parts, and other junk that fell through the screen, but once seen, it was clear what they were. My hive had mites and it felt as if someone had stabbed me in the gut with a icicle. The honeymoon was over.
I monitored the mites over the next couple of months and thankfully the numbers stayed low. Even so, there was the knowledge that as the population boomed, so would the mites, so I made sure to keep an eye on things. Good thing I did, too, because during a brass-tacks inspection in late-July, I discovered a total of 81 mites over a 3-4 day drop. That went over my 20-mite-per-day threshold, so I decided it was time to treat.
Sugaring the Bees:
The first “soft” layer of treatment I chose was the infamous Powdered Sugar method. The theory behind this is that the bees hate the feeling of powdered sugar and will clean themselves like mad to get it off. In doing so, they knock off mites that are clinging to them. Unfortunately, it does nothing to treat the mites inside the larvae cells, so you have to hit them three more times, each a week apart, to ensure you get a full generation of girls (there’s a three week life cycle from egg to hatched bee). It’s a fairly safe method that doesn’t harm the bees and many keepers like this for the first layer of offense against the mites.
The GF, being the sport that she is, agreed to help me, so we made our trek to Costco, bought two HUGE bags of powdered sugar, and then headed to the apiary for treatment.
The process was relatively quick and easy. The GF and I smoked the girls to drive them inside, removed the honey super, and then spread the sugar all over the brood supers. We attempted to use a sifter and we’d also built a “spreader” from an empty can of oatmeal (complete with holes punched in the top), but in the end we found it was easier to just pull the top off and shake the sugar all over the bees. P recommends that we use about a cup of sugar per hive, but the GF and I hadn’t talked with her at that point and we may have used a few cups more than necessary. Once coated, we buttoned everything up and beat feat back to the house.
I learned two very important lessons from the treatment. First, bees haaaaaaate powdered sugar. My hive, which is normally very quiet and gentle, went bonkers the second we shook the stuff all over them. White, ghostly looking bees rolled around on the ground cleaning themselves while others zigzagged in the air trailing powdered sugar. I think I even heard a few make some disparaging comments about my mother. The sugaring was for their own good, so I let the comments go.
The second lesson is that ghostly bees are hilarious. There were thousands of these powdery insects flying around trailing sugar. If they weren’t so ticked, the GF and I may have hung around to watch. Instead, we beat feat and let the girls deal work out their issues alone.
And to think, we get to do the same thing again for three more weeks. . . .