Queen introduction method
As usual, Tina Sebestyen’s article about discovering a better way to introduce queens to a colony (August issue) makes interesting reading and tempts me to suggest that some public-spirited beekeeper with nothing to do (ha-ha) should collect all the “how to do it” books on beekeeping and tear out the pages which tell beginners to kill the queen and introduce the new one next day. Often it works but the risk is too high both in cash and in wasted time.
In my early days, over 70 years ago, when I went straight into commercial beekeeping I was told, on several occasions, that the old returning foragers were the ones who were most likely to kill the new queens so it was better to introduce her while there is a good nectar flow in progress so half the foragers are away collecting or “bearding” on the front of the hive. (This was before multiple entrances were in use).
In the mid-1970s I decided to requeen one load of 80 hives with all Caucasians so I bought them from a breeder in New South Wales, introduced them using the textbook system and, two weeks later, found eggs in every hive. That was a remarkable result, I thought, until, after another 3-4 weeks when I started to take honey, I found about 10% of the colonies in that load were still showing all golden Italian colours but the rest were a mixture of Italian and Caucasian which is what I had hoped for. Possibly the 10% had included two queens or even more.
After some correspondence with the breeder in which she explained her system of introduction, and deciding it was not suitable for our highly migratory system, I developed my own. I use homemade Cloake boards; I shake or brush every bee off about half the brood combs in the hive and use them, with the addition of some honey and pollen combs, to make a split above the open Cloake with the entrance to the back side. The foragers who wander up there will soon return to the original entrance next day when the Cloake is closed and I am left with a queenless nuc of nurse bees facing backwards above the Cloake.
Next day I introduce the queen and have had very close to 100% success.
I can then decide what to do with the new colony. I may exchange the Cloake for a double screen and let the pheromones mingle so I can unite them later as a 2-queen colony. Or I can swap the parent bottom box for the new colony, taking the parent colony away as a nuc. Or I can use the new colony as a spare nuc just to provide extra brood for the parent.
I guess many of us develop our own systems. This one works for me.
Stan Taylor
Western Australia
More on swarm ownership
I saw the question about the responsibility for swarms in the August edition of ABJ. [See also a reply in September.] The actual answer of who owns a swarm (or is responsible for it) is very interesting, and somewhat complex.
In England, domesticated animals were the property of individuals, and wild/feral animals were the property of the Crown. So the question was whether a creature was domesticated, in which case whoever either purchased it or domesticated it owned it and was ultimately responsible for any damage it did. If it wasn’t domesticated, it was the property of the Crown, and no one was responsible for any damage it caused (the Crown had sovereign immunity). You could of course claim ownership of wild/feral creatures, such as by hunting them, provided you had permission from the Crown. If you had permission, you could own the item by domesticating it (if it was still alive), or by hunting it, through pursuing it (“giving chase”). As long as you maintained pursuit of the animal, you continued to claim your ownership of the animal. Which solved the issue of if a wild animal was in pursuit by you, but wandered onto my land and died. If you maintained pursuit of the animal, you maintained your claim for ownership. But if you ceased your pursuit, it became the ownership of the person whose property it rested on.
Interesting sidenote, this is likely where the idea of “tanging” came from. If a swarm was in flight, you could claim ownership over the swarm as long as you maintained pursuit of it. But you needed to (a) establish that you were in pursuit of a swarm, and (b) warn people as you’re wandering across their land that you’re going to capture a swarm so you didn’t get shot for trespassing. So you made a loud, continuous sound as you followed the swarm, to audibly announce you were in pursuit of a swarm. The actual “claim of ownership” of the swarm was likely lost to time, and people began tanging as tradition, which likely sparked myths about why people were doing it, and eventually people thinking it settled the bees (even though bees don’t have ears like you and I do and can’t hear the tanging).
That, of course, was the law in England, which the U.S. opted no longer to follow in 1776. As the U.S. was working to figure out its own legal system and its own rules, it was forced to deal with this issue in 1802 in the State of New York through Pierson v. Post (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierson_v._Post). Property ownership is a state right, not a federal right, so the state courts needed to deal with it. Pierson v. Post is most known for extending the claim that an individual not only needs to pursue the animal to claim ownership, but also injure it or do something additionally. But it also confirmed the idea that domesticated animals are owned, and wild animals are not owned (unless injured and in pursuit), but also are not owned by anyone (as we have no Crown). Each state may vary slightly, but generally speaking, most states continue to follow the logic laid down in Pierson v. Post.
So the question is whether honey bees are domesticated or feral. Usually, the law classifies all animals in one direction or the other. Sometimes through statute, but usually through common law. Deer are feral, chickens are domesticated. Dogs are domesticated, so if your dog bites someone you can be found responsible. But yellowjackets are not domesticated, so even if they are on your property if they sting someone you aren’t responsible, as you didn’t domesticate the animal (although you can still be liable for creating an environment that is dangerous by concealing yellowjacket nests, or intentionally attracting them to cause a nuisance, which isn’t really the point of our discussion).
If honey bees are domesticated, you can own them and sue someone for stealing your bees, but…
