Alas! Brood transplant failed

One week ago, I transplanted a frame of brood with all its nurse bees from #1 into the long lang.  I spritzed everyone with homemade honey-b-healthy in hopes that their hive odor would be covered up and they would share scents by grooming off the sugar.  I saw no fighting at the entrance for the next day, so I had hopes that things were peaceful inside.
However (and I know you are not surprised- the title is a spoiler), it did not work out a planned.

This is the transplanted frame today.  I have not moved the bees.  As you experienced hive examiners can see, there are no nurse bees on all that brood.  Brood without cover will die from cold.  You can see some uncapped cells as well.  There were some partially emerged.dead bees.

Now what?  I intend to just let this colony try to make it.  If it dies out, I will make a split from #1.  If #1 swarms, I will try to capture it and either put it in a nuc, or maybe figure out how to put it into the long lang. 
Of course, if any of you have a suggestion, please share it.

Do-it-yourself Long Langstroth hive

I was intrigued by an article In the April, 2018 issue of the American Bee Journal by Caroline Abbot about Long Lang hives and I decided I wanted to build one.  This is a link not to the article, but her description of it on her website.  As with many of my projects, it took a while to get started.  But this winter, I committed to doing it.
First I needed plans.  I wrote to Caroline and she graciously sent me her plans.  Of course, I had to make one change;  I wanted to make a screen bottom.  I found plans for that here.  This had to be made longer, naturally.
I am not a carpenter, nor do I play one on TV, so I needed to find someone who had knowledge and tools.  Maidi had met Collette at spin, and she is a builder.  She expressed interest in building the hive with me.
I attached my old Yakima racks to my Volt and went shopping at San Lorenzo Lumber for 12- foot planks of pine 1x12 and 1x6 as well as a couple sheets of plywood.  Then I set a date with Collette, expecting it to be a 3 to 4 hour project.
At first it went quite well, building a long box.  Unfortunately, one end was not flush and when I tried to even it (using Collette's planer), I had difficulty setting the depth of cut and ended up making the box 1/4" too shallow.  I went back to the lumber yard and then to Collette's and built a second box.
We used her router table to build the side bars of the screen bottom board, and even though I did a kind of sloppy job, it worked okay.

The box sitting on the screen bottom.  Still needs to be painted

The to make the roof.  The original plans called for a peaked roof, but Collette suggested making it flat, and since that would be easier, I acquiesced.  A mistake.  There needs to be some space above the inner covers and the roof for feeding.  I had already cut the roof board so I decided to make a canted roof.

The roof on top of the hive box

Inside view of the roof showing communication and vent holes

I covered the roof with roofing paper left over from building the garden shed.  Then I had to figure out how to attach it with hinges.  Collette had suggested a piano hinge, which sounded great.  Unfortunately, I had not realized that the roof sat on and exposed the sides of the inner covers and the hinge I had was not wide enough.  Nor did any local hardware stores a wide enough hinge.  An online search found what I needed, and a few days later I had my hinge.  Of course, it was too long, but I new that in advance and sawed it (with some difficulty) in half.

I was able to attach the roof and put on chains to limit the opening, and all set!  Or so I thought.

Problem #1- I had used 3/4" plywood for the roof and it was so heavy that when the roof was opened it would tip the hive over.

Problem #2- The hive components did fit flush in several places.  Bees will fill small cracks with propolis, but these were not small gaps.

Solution #1-  Dismantle the roof and rebuild it with 1/2" plywood.  Fortunately I had an old (<40 yrs.) sheet to use.  Re-assembling the roof was quite difficult.

Solution #2-  fill all the gaps with white, 100% silicon caulk.  Cut narrow strips of wood and glue them to the edge of the roof to make a better fit.

Now, done!

Ready for bees.  It just so happened that a couple of days before finishing the hive, I caught a small swarm in my pulp pot swarm trap.  I put them in a nuc on the the hive stand (so they would orient to the right place) while finishing the hive.  So, when the hive was ready, I moved the frames from the nuc into the long lang.  There are only 6 frames in the box with a following board.
The swarm is very small and I have been watching it closely for the past two weeks.  If it wasn't doing well today, I was ready to make a split from #1 (which is very strong).  However, there was capped brood.  This colony is so small that they cover a patch about 4 inches in diameter on three sides of frame.  I decided to give them more of a chance and transplanted a frame of brood and nurse bees from #1.  We'll see in another week.  I can always make a split or capture another swarm.
Thanks for reading this.  Stay safe and stay well.

A guest blogger

Even though I have not blogged for some time, much has happened in the apiary. I will be publishing a complete account when I get around to it. 

In the meantime, here is an account from a fellow beek, Laura.

 

 

The Beekeeper's Daughter

March 21, 2020:

Sonoma County announced a shelter-in-place order due to COVID-19, while Sabine, Amaya, Matt and I were in the mountains. When we came home a few days later, we found that a swarm of bees had decided to shelter-in-place in our very own pulp swarm trap! Matt had made and hung it in the nectarine tree about a week earlier. Was it the lemongrass-infused q-tip that drew them in? The blooms that were suddenly covering our fruit trees and flowering plants? The height and placement of Matt's expertly crafted trap? Beginner's luck? Who cares?! We were thrilled.

The first thing we did, of course, was call our guru and favorite beek-- Papa/Daddy-o. He advised that we not move our new friends straight into our hive, as we weren't sure when the swarm had arrived and the bees were already oriented to the precise location of the swarm trap. So, we decided to rig up our modified langstroth hive up on a ladder so it was positioned about 2 ft. from the entrance of the swarm trap. Around 4:30/5pm (it was still light out and not too cold), Matt geared up and poured the bees from the pulp swarm trap into our hive, while the girls and I stood by, watching with wonder and excitement. 

It looked like a success! After an hour or so, the air was clear of bees and only a small cluster remained on the trunk of the nectarine tree, where the swarm trap had previously been. Daddy/Papa said to expect this small, stubborn crew of bees to remain at the site of their original chosen home. He said to leave them alone. Of course, I felt that I needed to "save" these 50 some stragglers who were out in the cold without their queen. So later that evening, just when the sun was setting and it was significantly cooler, I climbed the nectarine tree, without any protective gear on whatsoever, and brushed a large number of bees into a Tupperware container. The remaining bees got very upset, and when one stung my upper lip, I dropped the Tupperware, which got everybody mad. I jumped from the tree down to the ground, and a high speed chase ensued, all the way to the edge of a neighboring Apple orchard. Bees were covering me-- in my hair, my shirt, even my pockets! Miraculously, I managed to get just one other sting on my head. Poor Sabine, Amaya and Daddy had watched the whole affair from Amaya's bedroom window, including my frenzied sprint out of sight, and were very worried. When I got home, I got possibly the biggest hug I've ever gotten from Amaya, and she got me an ice-pack straight away to put on my stings. The whole fiasci was humbling, and the lower left side of my face, which blew up to 3x its normal size the following day, served as a good reminder that I should always listen to my father and, if I don't, to at least put on a damn bee suit.

First pic is the wise son-in-law, all suited up and doing an expert job escorting our new residents into their new home. Second pic is your daughter, who certainly learned her lesson about bothering bees.