Honey of a Time

           Honey of a Time

  

     The sweat was stinging my eyes, the back of my khaki shirt clung to my body, and my long,heavy gloves were covered with patches of honey and propolis (bee glue). I smelled of smoke, and my jungle hat was too loose on my head. I was an apiary Inspector for the Michigan Department of Agriculture. I was also a teacher working to feed his family. The wages for teachers were so low in 1964, no "bennies," that teachers worked summer jobs. My contract paid me $4,500., and the average salary for the area was $7,000. That's why I chose to be stung, instead of starving. But I feel I digress. I knew nothing about bees. I was trained by two men, one a Scot, and the other an Irishman. The equipment issued to me consisted of a jungle Jim hat, heavy gloves,smoker(round can with bellows attached), and a hive tool. This tool was a pry bar. Khaki shirts and pants were not provided, and were to be purchased.

     All bee keepers in the State of Michigan were required to be registered. And, because there was an outbreak of a bee disease called "American Foulbrood," inspectors were in demand. There was one big difference between my tutors. One burned only pine needles in his smoker, the other used only sumac. Sumac is a tall skinny plant with fuzzy grape-like clusters. Smoke is used by bee keepers to calm the bees and help from being stung. 

      I was taught to look for the disease, and what to do with it. In its early stage the affected cells have a thick rope-like look and feel. In its late stage, the bee cells are black, and all that is left of them is their honey tongue.

      When the disease was found, a spoonful of cyanide was placed in the hive, and the whole colony died. Next, a hole was dug, and all the frames where the bees lived, and the honey was stored, were piled in the hole and burned. I had forgotten that we were also issued a kerosene flame-thrower and a can of cyanide gas. While the fire was burning, all the supers (boxes),top,and bottom boards were charred by the burner. These remains were returned to the bee keeper. Is it any wonder keepers were angry? The State Police had to handcuff one keeper to a tree. Not my inspection. 

      Inspectors were provided with lists of keepers, the number of hives, and locations. Ha! Some directions simply read "in the center of the section". That's 640 acres! You could often spend the better part of a day looking for the location of a group of hives. Sometimes,too, you would find that the address was wrong,or that the hives had been abandoned. It was hot, heavy, sticky work. When the honey flow was on, the supers were heavy with honey.Three or four of these on each hive was not unusual. An apiary sometimes had thirty hives to inspect. An inspection consisted of removing all of the supers to reach the brood chambers on the bottom of the hive. This is where the disease would be found. Is it any wonder I came home smelling of smoke, and sticky with honey?

      One inspection I will always remember is the time I drove into a dairy farm, to find that the hives were located far back in the woods. And cows, being curious creatures, licked their tongues all over my VW, leaving great slobbers on it. I also remember having to inspect two hives in each of two out houses. You had to stand in front of the hives as the bees went in and out. 

The work was difficult, I learned a lot about bees,and later had some myself. The one other thing I should mention. Apiary inspectors pray for rain. Bees do not work outside the hive when it rains.   

      For the most part, people were friendly. I was invited to lunch, given seedlings and graftings for my home. One other thing I have come to appreciate. Old-time keepers told me that stings were good for me. Stings prevent arthritis. This seems to be true, for I have none, and can practice my ukulele with great abandon. This continues to annoy music critics. 

                Aloha  

                Grant