Not For the Weak – 7 Days in the Life of a Beekeeper

While the end of January might have brought Bay of Plenty beekeepers and their livestock a battering by the elements, Aimz kicked off the month and year with back-breaking work in the field, and frustrations in the extraction shed. A mix of joys and trials, here’s her look into a week in the life of a beekeeper.

Nothing really prepares you for that first week back in January. Here’s mine.

Monday; First day taking honey. We wait for the day to warm up before rocking up to our local sites of odds and sods. We will deal to the light honey before we hit the coast. Lots of smoke, fume boards, and good intentions.

Smaller sites - eight colonies on one, seven single-box hives with queen excluders on another. The last site of 21 hives completes the day. Disease inspecting hives is my job. I feel like I should have put my back brace on earlier, but we are done and dusted and take a nice little haul of bush honey from hives that weren’t maybe as strong as others.

Throughout inspections, I notice one or two bees with evidence of mite damage. We are on the ball this year. Mite control has been refreshed; we are taking no chances. If you were reading my stories last year, you would know we had an absolute thrashing by the red devils, so being on top of them now is a beautiful thing.

Tuesday; Starting at the same time, but it’s a slightly bigger day. Our crew of three will tackle two sites of twenty-four hives. Now we are seeing a few more bees, and most hives are grunty and doing well. Failing queens are marked on their lids for autumn requeens, along with anything else of note.

On return, the honey boxes are stacked in the warm room with yesterday’s booty. After unloading the truck I’m glad I kept my back brace on, I’m starting to feel the repercussions of being bent like a staple all day. Today’s tool-time with some icy watermelon and a cold drink couldn’t come sooner.

Wednesday; Looking after the old man’s babies, we take the honey off our double three-quarter site. Dad’s own queens, and the first site to be split and put to use as autumn queen raisers. There are only 32 hives, but halfway through I’m feeling it. The bees are a bit stroppy, and I get more stings than in past months combined.

I’m struggling to keep anywhere near the blower today – I should know what it’s like, this was my job last year, but it’s all feeling pretty fresh. Riding home with the boys, my back is telling me it’s already been a big week, and at the shed I mentally prepare myself just to get out of the truck. The pain is real. Truck is unloaded and we all go home. I am unusually docile. There is no fight left in me.

Thursday; Only the thought of having a helper gets me out of bed today. An earlier start sees us travelling inland to our targeted light honey spots. Boxes stacked, another two sites of twenty-four.

Other locations record temperatures in the 30s, but it’s cooler out in the bush, in the middle of nowhere. The humidity is up though, and my head is down. Inside my veil the sweat drips off my chin anyway. It’s just another day.

Although my helper didn’t feel like he was doing much, he was. My substitute crane, every box of brood he lifted was one I didn’t have to. For once I found myself waiting on the blower. Washing up in a crisp flowing mountain stream was the icing on the cake. At home, 160 boxes of crystalline bush honey are stacked outside the extracting room door.

Friday; Harvesting the rest of our local honey. The last push for the week. Our team of three heads out early to beat the heat. Wineberries and blackberries line the road, and the first of them are already ripe. On site, I feel like I am on a go slow, but then everyone else must be too. Bring on the weekend.  

11am, job done, another twenty-four hives down. Our driver pulls up by the wineberry patch, and a few tasty handfuls of berries are just a teaser of what’s to come.  

We get back to the shed, and after unloading the crop, and inhaling a sandwich, it’s time to get serious. Into the plant. Double checking everything, for today is the day we kick it in the guts.

This is a test run for next week. Our main man is taking a convenient holiday, and I will be overseeing extracting operations. For now we put through 40 boxes.

I’m working the extractor. I don’t really want to lift another honey box this week. We’re halfway through, and the number of jam-ups through the conveyor is more than annoying, it’s an issue we’re going to have to deal with.  A quick phone call to the manufacturer, and before you can say Boutelje, Peter has picked that prickly problem with the pricker clamp, and we are back in business.

Agreed, this is the best honey of the season. Light, juicy… towai, rata, and blackberry. I want to drink it by the cupful.

Saturday/Sunday; While chilling in my hammock with the kids, I’m still seeing brood, but after a beach mission; kayaks, fish, and good feels, I’ve kicked back into being Mum. I appreciate the time – because it’s starting to feel awfully familiar.

No two weeks are the same. Extracting is next on the cards, and we’ll be splitting hives in-between. After that, we tackle our manuka sites, extract all over again, and then bring our bees home for wintering.

Time is of the essence, but we can only do what we can do. Tomorrow is another day.

Aimz.

Aimz is a second-generation commercial beekeeper in the Bay of Plenty who took up the hive-tool fulltime at the end of the 2024 honey season. Formerly a stay-at-home mum to four kids, she has now found her footing in the family business.