Okay this is gonna be a long saga but I’m finally feeling better today after Monday’s chemo and I’ve got bees on the brain.
I recently responded to a post here from an older couple in Lafayette looking to rehome a hive. When I offered to defer to someone beeless or struggling, the lady replied, “I don’t really think I want them going to someone new.” I asked why, and she goes, “They’re very active.” I was like uhh, okay… When I said I didn’t really want to introduce pissy genetics to my apiary, she says, “I’m not gonna lie—they’re a little aggressive.”
She explained that it was a 10-frame, all-medium hive stacked five boxes high. They had just pulled two honey supers, leaving three boxes behind. I was thinking that alone could be part of the problem—taking away space and stores in the middle of a nectar dearth can create stress. I told her I’d take the hive, park it at the far end of my apiary, and keep an eye on them.
When Jake and I showed up last night and lifted the hive onto the carrier, I immediately noticed how light it was—concerning, since it meant they had few resources (no capped honey, little pollen). I also saw a bunch of ants crawling on the brood boxes and a ton more on the two empty supers, another reason for the bees to be less than thrilled with their accommodations.
The bees then endured the bumpy ride back to Livermore. When we got close to the apiary, we saw the road was blocked. Apparently two girls were going 100 mph, took out a huge chunk of fence, wrapped themselves around a power pole, and had to be airlifted out. Unfortunately not a rare occurrence in Livermore wine country, but this one was particularly bad. :( PG&E had a lot of trucks rolling in and the road was closed to all traffic. So rather than settling the hive in its new permanent location, the poor bees had to spend the night in the back of my truck in the driveway.
This morning, the winery that hosts my hives told me the road was open to one-way traffic and the gate was solar-powered, so we headed over to drop off the hive. After letting it settle in for about 45 minutes or so, I opened it up and a horde of extremely upset bees poured out. I had a veil on and took a dozen or so stings to the hands and arms while slowly backing up into the rows of petit sirah.
After about another 15 minutes I told Jake (who was smart and wore a suit) to please toss me my bee jacket, take off the cover, queen excluder, and triangle board, throw on an inner cover and an empty ant-free super, deploy the top feeder that I'd prepped with 1:1 sugar water and a dollop of Honey B Healthy before leaving home, and slap an outer cover on the whole mess. By then he was about done with the situation so took the dog home, who was cowering by his forerunner after being terrorized.
I stayed long enough to watch the hive settle down dramatically, which took about another half hour while I was occupied with other stuff. By then my jacket was off and Nasanoving and orientation behavior was kicking in. In a day or two I'll open her up and have Jake check things out, maybe adding more bee space and a pollen patty.
So here’s some takeaways:
Do I recommend this method for everyone? Absolutely not. Did I do everything right? Again nope. But it’s a solid example of troubleshooting a difficult hive instead of giving up on it. Beekeeping isn’t always neat or predictable. Sometimes it’s about reading the situation, staying calm, and giving the bees a shot. If this hive is still pissy after a week or so then it's on to Plan B. No drones flying so I have a bit more lead time to consider options.

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