After a flurry of visits at the start of the month it had been a while since i visited the roof, but there has been a great deal of bee activity in my absence. Oh yes. A GREAT DEAL of bee activity.
Bert and i went along on a bright Sunday morning in early May to record the most splendid Their Hearts Were Full of Spring sing to the bees. The band not only turned up en masse, but brought flowers and other offerings for their audience.
They sang. It was a beautiful day. All was good in the world of the hive. And then, as the temperature rose and we turned to leave, bees began to pour out of the front of the hive. Not just a few, not just dozens, but literally hundreds of bees were coming out of the hive. Bert and I took refuge inside and watched from a fifth floor function room. It was quite a sight as bees filled the air. Thousands of them.
Even with my limited beekeeping knowledge, it was clear we had a swarm on our hands. I called John, who as chance would have it was giving a beekeeping course nearby at Roots & Shoots community garden. I drove over to pick him up, and armed with a cardboard box we returned to tame the renegades. By now they had clustered in comic book fashion in the tree between the Queen Elizabeth Hall and the Hayward Gallery. Mark from security looked on nervously.
John decided his shinning up trees days were over so we returned to the roof where he inspected the hive for more queens in case it happened again. And then as we looked across at the tree an extraordinary thing happened. The swarm took flight en masse, flew high above the QEH in a dark cloud and then literally vanished. We searched fruitlessly for an hour or so but they had disappeared completely.
Our hive had divided, like an amoeba splitting in two, and half of our bees had flown the nest. I took it a little personally. John explained that swarming is a natural part of the hive’s life cycle. It’s the way that bees reproduce and multiply - they collectively decide that half will move on and set up a new home. It reminded me of picking teams in the playground at school. Who goes and who stays behind? Why had they left us behind?
If that had been the end of it, the episode would have remained a footnote in the Duty Manager’s report. But the bees had other plans.
A few days later i had a call from Security. The bees had resurfaced, were clustered around the main entrance to the QEH, and had started making a nuisance of themselves. John couldn’t get over in time so we called the London Beekeepers Association Swarm Hotline and Clive, professional installer of showers and finest swarm man in London, came to the rescue. The previous day he had managed to catch three swarms in the space of an hour. But after battling with our swarm all afternoon even Clive had to admit defeat. “These bees don’t want to be caught” he said breathlessly when i called up to hear the good news. And then they disappeared again.
The next time security called I was even further away and less able to attend. Luckily this time Kenny M from the Festival Hive press office was on hand to offer running commentary and Phil H snapped the unfolding developments on his phone and sent updates. The bees had chosen the afternoon before a Hayward Gallery press private view to split into 4 (count them) groups and take to the tree once more.
We called in reinforcements. Barnaby from Walworth Garden Farm sped over and bravely volunteered to go up into the tree. SBC security had by this point closed down the road and the stage crew wheeled out a cherry picker. Barnaby precariously ascended 30 feet into the branches no less than three times and took the clusters down with the aid of his trusty old cardboard box and a sheet. One remained, far out of reach at the top of a lamp post but Clive returned the following day to mop up the stragglers.
Barnaby took the bees away to his apiary in Kennington, so they haven’t gone far. As far as i know nobody got stung throughout the whole episode(s) but after all the inconvenience we’ve had to explain to the bees in no uncertain terms that IT CANNOT HAPPEN AGAIN and they (and John) have given the strongest possible assurances that it wont.
Why did the bees swarm? Perhaps the queen was older than we had thought. Perhaps against all expectations they were doing too well up there on the roof. However, the fact remains we’ve got half the bees we used to have. To make matters worse when John and I visited the hive last week, there was no sign of a new queen. This means no new eggs, no new bees, and dwindling honey reserves. Reading the hive John thinks that a princess emerged, went on a mating flight and never returned. He will examine the hive in a week's time and if there is no sign of eggs beig laid we'll have to introduce a new queen.
All of this has seriously affected our honey producing capabilities, not to say the goodwill of everyone involved. It may seem obvious, but the hive is a living thing. I think we all suddenly realised just how living it is. Nature has a way of being unpredictable and not following straight lines or staying in boxes, and this was a very good reminder of that. I’ve started treating the honey i put in my tea with greater respect.
(Huge thanks to SBC security for keeping their cool and if you ever need the services of Clive or the London Beekeepers Association Swarm Team give them a call on 07922 147379 and they’ll come out free of charge. Can’t say fairer than that.)