The buzz: Where beekeeping, technology intersect in Saskatchewan

Ditching a well-paying job and pursuing a passion without any guaranteed results is sure to be an unnerving experience.

For Jeff and Julie Shirley, that ultimate leap of faith has done more than pay off for the past five years. It’s transformed their lives.

Shirley was able to blend his IT past with his passion for beekeeping to create River City Innovations Ltd, his  tech startup that has created a way to track beehives and prevent beehive theft.

But he soon realized another practical application for his technology.

“We started the rural crime (challenge). Why I applied for it was because we had bees and I was trying to stop them from getting stolen,” he said Sunday during a short drive from his acreage between Alvena and Cudworth, Sask. to one of his nearby bee hives.

“We created the technology to track the bees, and that led us into rural crime and maybe we can use that to prevent rural crime.”

In June, Shirley’s new app, BeeSecure, was unveiled after the province issued a rural crime innovation challenge.

Using cellular communication technology on a trial basis in the R.M. of Mayfield, the tracker tech used by Shirley is aiming to prevent rural crime by keeping tabs on personal property.

“I can go in and track my bees, or if it’s recreational property owners trying to track a motorboat, or your (snowmobile), or your quad or an electrical contractor tracking his trailer of tools, our technology works for all of those scenarios,” Shirley said.

“It’s not that this tracking technology didn’t exist before  — GPS has been around for 20 years. What’s different is how we’re communicating it through our app, and the fact that we can cover an area where there is no cellular coverage.”

I spent my Sunday learning all about the 🐝.

I might have performed a little too well when @jhshirley put me to work though. #yxe #Sask @beesecureyxe @CKOMNews pic.twitter.com/r5mnLvWjGL

— Keenan Sorokan (@KeenanSorokan) August 19, 2019

Using the new technology with no cellular networks available is where LoRa comes in.

A communication technology that uses radio signals rather than cellular signals, LoRa expands network capabilities to rural areas.

“We can go to a rural area in Saskatchewan where there is no cellular coverage, (and) provide coverage using LoRa,” Shirley said.

“Then we have tracking devices, agriculture technology devices, weather sensors, soil moisture sensors, gate sensors — all these different types of technology that run on LoRa, and they communicate the data back to the app and let you know your gate’s open, your cabin’s below 1 C and your water lines might freeze.”

The cost is where BeeSecure separates itself from its competitors. The cellular option of protecting your personal property or bee hives costs $10 per month, while LoRa will cost a person just $2.

Each tracker is roughly the size of a business card, just an inch thicker.

The power conservation also makes it practical in Canada’s weather. Three AA batteries can get almost four years of life out of each device, while lasting at temperatures as low as -40 C.

The latest feature of BeeSecure that Shirley demonstrated near his farm is geo-fencing, the ability to mark an area so the app won’t alert a customer until the trackers have left the marked area.

All of those capabilities work together to allow an instant response from a local RCMP detachment.

“You can actually mark it stolen, and the data sends right up to the RCMP through the back portal for them to see stolen assets,” Shirley said.

BeeSecure has also established connections in California, where high-value almond crops spur tens of millions of bee thefts each year. Shirley and his partners will travel there in November to demonstrate the technology.

2019 a year to remember for Saskatchewan-based beekeepers

This year, his decision to ditch the T4 slip in Saskatoon has paid off immensely.

Shirley and Julie are seeing an added 25 per cent to their yields this year compared to last.

Jeff has been leaving his work at BeeSecure each day the last few weeks to haul around 800 hive boxes weighing up to 90 pounds each, so the honey can be extracted. That’s just the end of the honey production process.

Here's how my education started yesterday. #yxe #Sask pic.twitter.com/Ho2GXL7eCJ

— Keenan Sorokan (@KeenanSorokan) August 19, 2019

Putting on the bee suit and getting up close to the hives reveals a complex civilization of 50,000 bees and a queen working away.

After the bees suck nectar from flower blossoms, chew it, break it down and deposit it into the hive’s honeycomb cells, they fan their hard work with their wings to evaporate the water so nothing but thick, gooey honey is left behind.

Once they cap each cell with beeswax, that’s when Shirley moves in.

Smoking the hives to move the bees away and removing each frame, scraping the wax, spinning off any honey in a machine that pumps it into a massive vat before it sits for a day or two before it is packaged.

“In there, there’s 50 pounds of honey,” Shirley said, holding up one of the heavier boxes. “Around here, we’ve had a very, very good crop year.”

While Shirley drives 45 minutes from his job to the farm for after hours heavy lifting, it’s Julie that has abandoned full-time work to be a beekeeper. She enjoys nurturing the bees most.

“You’re looking into the hive, and there’s always a pattern for how the two bottom boxes should be, and you’re always watching that they’re keeping that pattern,” Julie said.

As most beekeepers will tell you, there’s an addictive quality to the work. One hive can quickly grow to dozens. Julie started with two hives five years ago. This season they began with 135 and now have 200.

“I just want to live comfortably. When we started, originally, I just wanted two hives for our self-sufficiency goal we had here.”

The Shirley’s operation has far surpassed that. This year they expect to package 50,000 pounds of pure, unpasteurized honey that goes from the farm to the table in 24 hours.

However, they do have one piece of advice for amateur beekeepers.

“You lose your summer. You’re getting a career out of it, you’re doing lots of good things but you give up your entire summer for beekeeping,” Shirley said.

“No more sailing, windsurfing or camping, you’re here taking care of your bees.”