Monday, April 26, 2004
Beekeepers' numbers are dwindling.
WASHINGTON POST
RIXEYVILLE, Va. -- Ann Harman is determined to save the honeybee, a dwindling species, before it graduates to the endangered list. Her weapons include a bear-proof fence with "cattle-strength" electric charge, a greasy organic remedy against pests and a revulsion for the word cute.
"Beekeepers think bees are so 'cute,'" Harman said derisively of her colleagues.
In truth, the forbidden word likely has been used often to describe the 73-year-old retired scientist, international beekeeping consultant and owner of a brown-gray pageboy haircut that makes her look about six decades younger.
"Well, the public doesn't think they're so cute," she went on. "Beekeepers are old stick-in-the-muds. They need to get out more."
On a mission
With bees -- and beekeepers -- decreasing in number across the country, Harman is on a mission to revive the ancient, struggling industry. If she isn't training beekeepers in her Culpeper County apiary, she's teaching modern beekeeping methods in developing countries or lecturing to U.S. honey marketers about updating the domestic image of a product that is increasingly being imported.
"Most of the honey packaging was designed in the 1960s and looks like it," she said of the plastic bear-shaped containers most Americans grew up with. "And some labels were designed in the 1920s, and they look like it."
Harman is part of a backlash by beekeepers, farmers and scientists who are seriously concerned about the loss in the past two decades of well over half the country's honeybees, the insects responsible for pollinating about one-third of the food humans eat. The problem began in the 1980s with two parasites from Mexico and Asia that continue to decimate hives around the world. It has been aggravated by drought and the suburban growth that has overtaken much agricultural land.
More bears
Most recently, the growing population of bears in the mid-Atlantic states has been added to the list, and Virginia beekeepers have decided to fight back. They went to Richmond during this year's legislative session to ask for the right to shoot bears that destroy their hives as well as for compensation for the damage bears cause. Although they came up short, a vaguely worded bill ordering state government to help beekeepers was passed and another dealing with compensation was continued until next year.
Maryland beekeepers had more success when they launched a similar fight about 10 years ago. The state now pays for an electric fence for beekeepers who can prove they suffered a bear attack. Still, David Morris of the Maryland Beekeepers Association said the state has lost one-third of its bees and 60 percent of its colonies in the past decade.
The ranks of beekeepers are shrinking because natural and manmade assaults on bees make it hard to earn money or have fun, a key reason people keep bees. Most beekeepers are hobbyists, meaning they may sell at a farmers' market or lend their bees to farmers to help them pollinate, but most of the honey on supermarket shelves comes from large commercial companies overseas.
Numbers dwindle
In the 1980s, there were 2,200 beekeepers in Maryland, Morris said; today there are about 900. In Virginia, the number dropped from 3,000 to 2,000 in the same period, state apiarist Keith Tignor said. Last winter, Tignor said, Virginia lost 46 percent of its hives, compared with the normal winter loss of about 10 percent.
Except for astute residents who notice the paucity -- or absence -- of honeybees in their yards, only supermarket shoppers notice the impact of the shortage. Honey is now at record prices, an average of $3.70 a pound, and a growing share of it is imported.