The story of many hives

We started with two. They survived and filled us with joy and pain of first bites. Then we got two more. And two more. Every dollar was literally going into getting more bees. We got a bunch of swarms our first year that made us feel like a solid lucky bee hunters. We split some. And somehow we ended up with 13 by our first winter. Girls were home, I was happy and content. 

Then we lost 5 to winds, rains and small hive beetle. FIVE! At those times that amount was drastic and I got seriously traumatized.

Not for long. In the coming spring we decided to be the smartest and split our hives before swarm season. We made it up to 16 and lost 6 immediately for being so confident and amateur. Lesson learned. Our only swarm that spring were the wild black bees that gathered no honey, got us the most brutal stinging experience so far and we are very glad they decided to go back where they came from. With slight encouragement by Dmitri.

With 10 hives left we attempted splits again and with all of the above lessons learned we end up with 25 by our second winter. That became noticeable lots of work but bees were happy and buzzing between the gulches, honey was flowing and I thought we might became real beekeepers.

The winter of 2026 came and never ended. With constant, endless rain and Kona low storms. Everyone got sad, even the trees were loosing their blooms. We met the spring with no sun and only 4 hives survived to see the summer. I though we may be should go and find a day job.

We decided to try. Our beekeeping fellas helped us with queen bees and we managed to grow till 8 and now 12.

They were doing good. The sun never came but hurricanes came instead. Lala, then Lowell, then Nola. We got rained out up to our lungs. They are doing good.

The story continues.

It might seem as I’m counting the bee colonies up and down like chairs in a ballroom. To be true every single one has a place in my heart. And sorrow when it’s gone. Not much when they swarm. It refills our wild bee populations in deep gulches. That’s where they go and where they come from. Sometimes angry.

Those numbers tell the story of an amateur beekeeper and hopefully will make someone feel better and laugh about its own mistakes. And start all over again.