Bee-saster

I was going to inspect the bees either today or tomorrow, but received an email from one of the groundsmen in the school that one hive had fallen over. So what I thought would only be a leaning tower actually fell down. A nightmare.
Luckily, and truly luckily, a member of staff (who I shall name G), who lives more or less on site, offered to help me sort out the mess and together, after many stings, we got everything up and running again.
But first things first.
Pre-warned by the email, I didn't bother to take a smoker to the Star, but did decide to wear the leather gloves. Quite rightfully the bees were going to be in a foul mood and smoke would not calm them in any way - maximum protection was the only way forward. Well, G unfortunately did not quite go for maximum, wearing only ankleboots, which he soon rued, when ten bees made themselves uncomfortable in his boots. All credit to him that as soon as he had taken off the offending boot with three surviving bees, he procured some wellies and returned to help me.
The sight that greeted us was horrible.

A beekeeper's nightmare

The supers and broodbox were on the ground, all in awkward positions. A lot of the capped honey had broken out of the frames, many bees had been squashed against stores, so that most of the honey frames looked like squashed fly biscuits (though it was a case of squashed bees). Bees, wasps and slugs were all over the debris of  the super frames, the roof was damaged considerably and the hive stand had collapsed.

The black things on the capped honey are all squashed bees

In fact, it was probably a rotten or weak hive stand that led to the hive falling down rather than unevenness in the floor, though this wouldn't have helped.

Sorting out the brood box

First thing I did was to get all boxes the right way up and in various places where they wouldn't be in the way, so I could sort through them. Priority was the brood box, which I managed to place on two plastic flower tubs. The brood frames were all aslant and stuck down in this position. The dummy board was so stuck down that the top broke off the board, leaving me empty-handed. So I prised a frame from the middle out: what a mess! I removed all frames and then put them back in, but eliminated all short frames, because the comb the bees had built on to the bottom of these had become stuck onto other frames. While dealing with this mess of wax, brood, bees and honey - close to despair, I might add - I may have accidentally swatted the queen aside, with uncertain fate. I thought I saw a green dot disappear somewhere. Having taken all the frames out, I was in for a surprise: where the frames left a cavity, due to the angle they lay in the brood box, the bees had built up comb and had quite a bit of honey stored there. I junked it all. Much like with the queen, I should have been more careful, probably collected it in a plastic ice tub, if only for my own delectation. But in a nightmare scenario like that one, I only wanted to get the bees back on track. If ever that should happen again, I might be better prepared.

While I was doing this, heroic G returned, richer by a pair of wellies and seven stings in one ankle. Unperturbed, he started fixing the stones on which the hive stand had been placed. It was impossible to get this straight, so we settled on a construction that seemed stable, if not level. G's inventiveness in this area was remarkable and he wheelbarrowed various bits of wood and metal to the apiary, which we assembled jigsaw-style to a hopefully firm foundation.

A lot of the honey stored in the supers was broken. I put as much back as I could and hope the bees will sort it all out. The new super I put on before my holiday to Spain had only been drawn out, but has no honey in it. So the bees will hopefully collect some honey in that.

Standing tall and proud.

The Star is standing again. The broodbox has three new 12x14 frames in it, but is otherwise unchanged. Hopefully the queen is in there, too. The two old supers are probably useless for honey harvesting, as they've been god knows where with god knows what all over them. I will probably leave them for the bees, but it will depend on how (if!) the bees clear them up.

What makes the whole incident so frustrating is that the Star was obviously doing really well. The queen was good, laying well and the bees, from what I can see, are a good mixture of dark and light, which means they should thrive and collect lots of honey.

After having sorted out the Star, G and I were thoroughly drained and drenched, but decided to check up on the Moon, too. What's done is done, after all.

Glad to say here everything was fine, more or less. The bees have not spared with propolis in the two months they've been alone and getting each separate storey off was a challenge. They have also obviously forgotten that periodically the roof gets ripped off their house, the rooms get shifted around and they are expected to behave while this is happening. They were quite sting-y and excitable. Due to the fact that they were pressed for space before I supered up, they had built comb between the supers, which I broke, but didn't remove, as I thought I'd do this when I harvest. We didn't see the queen, but we did see a beautiful laying pattern with many eggs. The queen seems to be in good lay and the colony as a whole looks strong and healthy. They have also drawn out the new super and started to store some nectar there.

An order and peace of sorts

We had a huge amount of mess in the apiary: damaged frames, comb, dead bees, newspaper, honey - you name it - it was there (well, if it had to do with bees: no cakes or haircurlers). Although maybe I should have salvaged some of the wax or the wood (I know it's all precious), I just wasn't prepared for that and threw it all away. Also, I really couldn't face sifting through all that gunk with bees dive-bombing us, and so we bagged it and binned it. We left the apiary as clean as we could and I hope the bees can sort out the rest. I have faith in the Star and am sure the bees there will do a great job. The Moon looks slightly wonky and now I'm worried that may go, too. Surely not...

What a day!
And thank you G: without your heroic help I would have taken one look at the apiary and just cried.