Photo above: Dana in the field using a bug net to catch bumble bees. Photo: Braelyn Smallwood
When I first stepped into the world of bumble bee conservation, I was entering uncharted territory. My background was in marine biology, and before this role, I had never worked with bees. Transitioning from studying marine life to understanding the world of bumble bees was both thrilling and daunting. It felt like I was trading the vast, mysterious ocean for the equally complex, but much smaller, world of these incredible pollinators.
At the beginning of my time as a bumble bee conservation technician, my primary task involved heading out into the field during the spring to catch bumble bees. We headed out to the most beautiful conservation areas and I was handed a big net and a cooler bag full of vials. I was on top of the world; I was out in nature peacefully walking around, recording all the flowers I saw and looking out for bumble bees. When it came to catching them that first day, it was my first time trying but I thought, how hard could it be? I’d been tossed around by currents trying to measure fish lengths using my hands and forearms as references, I had swum around sharks trying to grab marine snail shells and I’d been slammed by waves on the intertidal of the Indian Ocean while trying to identify species. Perhaps I came in a little overconfident in my potential bee-catching abilities. I can’t even count how many times I swung for a flying bee, only to end up spinning in circles and walking away with an empty net—or worse, a net with stray leaves and twigs stuck in it from my enthusiastic but slightly off-target attempts. Though I soon caught my first bee and then my second, and so on, I can assure you that the thrill never goes away. My role here has even found me bragging to my friends about the day the team caught 206 bumble bees (much to their disinterest).
We caught all that we could, identified each species and then diligently recorded which ones we found and how many of each species. All of a sudden I was identifying bumble bees on the spot when two weeks before I couldn’t have said more than “this one has more yellow than that one”. When we caught one of our two target species – the yellow-banded and the tri-coloured – as long as they were queens with no pollen (to indicate they hadn’t yet made their colonies), they were brought back to our lab to be raised there and contribute to our research, breeding program, and overall conservation efforts. The bees we caught that were not our target species were recorded and then released.
Though these fieldwork days were long, I loved every minute of them! I enjoyed exploring different areas and chatting with hikers who were curious about what I was doing with a big net and determination in my eyes. It was incredible to see how many people genuinely cared about our work and shared a passion for bumble bee conservation. Being out in the field brought some wonderfully unpredictable experiences (like the day a lovely family walked their pet chicken and let me hold it or when we ended up at a Christmas themed cafe on the way to one of our surveys) and offered countless opportunities to learn. Each day presented new challenges and insights, deepening my understanding of bumble bees and their role in our ecosystem.