Got Bees? Call a Beekeeper, Not an Exterminator!

Any good organic gardener is thrilled to see bees around the garden.

It was last spring about this time, when I felt good about "my bees" until I saw they were making a "bee line" straight for my house!

Horacio Acevedo "digging" into his work, despite protests of the residents.

The were buzzing in between the brick first floor, and the wallboard that covers our second story. The little buggers made themselves comfortable by actually lifting the 1x4 lathe that covers the joint.

Recognizing that your house is literally a bee hive of activity is not a comforting thought.

Even though I claim to be organic, my first instinct was to go see my neighbor, who is a professional exterminator.  He was kind enough not to take my money, and steer me in the right direction - a professional beekeeper.

My hive was about half the size of a basketball.

Any exterminator using chemical poisons will only be slightly successful in getting rid of bees in your house. The first problem is that the queen is royally ensconced deep in the hive, and not likely to get a lethal hit of the pesticide. Secondly, the hive with its honey is like a neon sign inviting other bees to re-colonize, even if her royal highness gets knocked off.  

I got a list of beekeepers (AKA "apiarists") from a few green friends. The bad news is that this time of year, these folks are busy, and their services ain't cheap, averaging $400-$500 for a guaranteed "treatment." The good news was that my hunt brought me to Horacio and Shirley Acevedo of Ace Bees.

They are a delightful, knowledgeable, professional husband and wife team that promptly came out and removed our uninvited guests.

Horacio started by diagnosing the situation, and laying out a plan. He observed the hive from the outside, then came inside with a thermometer. The hive was between the ceiling of the first floor and the floor upstairs. The temperature of floor above the hive was a few degrees warmer, due to the bees' activity. 


Your intrepid blogger in full regalia.


Horacio said he would need to open the cavity to extract the hive, and could cut through the floor, or the wall outside. Even though he assured me he would tape the doors of the bedroom to contain the bees, the thought of a house full of bees versus a little cut in the wall board pushed us outside.

Once he cut the hole, he used paddles to scrape out the hive and honey, and put it all in a five gallon plastic bucket.    Then Horacio vacuumed up any lingering (and very angry) malcontents, and sealed up the hole.

While the Acevedos guarantee against reinfestation at that spot, they can't guarantee the whole house will be forever bee-proof. They advised me to go around the entire house and caulk all potential bee entries.That neon sign inviting new bees will hang around for years, and my job is to make it as tough as possible for them to make themselves a home.

I was fascinated by the entire process, and Shirley lent me a beekeeper coat so that I could get up close and personal with our little invaders. (Hence these pictures.) It was a warm afternoon, and I got lax, and peeled off the hood about 20 feet away. Big mistake.

The Acevedos explained that actually I was lucky to be stung "only" four or five times. When they began as apiarists 20 years ago, about ten percent of bees were aggressive Africanized bees. Today it's 90 percent, but mine were the domestic "passive" variety. 

The Acevedos called later in the week to tell me they found the queen and the colony was now happily ensconced at their place in Princeton.  For days afterward, bees who were out on patrol when the hive was moved tried to get home. It was kind of pathetic as they clung to the wall, homesick. 

But I didn't shed any tears over their plight. My lighter wallet and wounds were still stinging.

My advice: seal up any cracks and crevices now, before an infestation, and if you are "bugged" call the pros.