Our Mates' Farm

We have found our farm!  That’s right, after some ups and downs and back and forth we finally have had an offer accepted on a farm.  It has involved a lot of looking, and many nights lying awake wondering if we will ever find a place of our own.

The where: Geeveston, Tasmania.  Geeveston is located in the beautiful Huon Valley and is about 50 minutes to the south of Hobart, and just over an hour from Hobart airport.  It doesn’t have the cachet of Cygnet but the soil is good, and property prices a bit more attainable.  The property itself is a few minutes from the centre of Geeveston.

The what: 80 acres of north-facing apple orchard with 4 sheds, a massive dam, a tractor and gear, a stack of apple bins, 7-8 acres of native tall trees….. and no house.  However this is fine as we are now moved into a rental property in the centre of Geeveston, which will do until we build a house on the site.  Plus it gives us a spare bedroom to have people come stay with us straight away.

The why: or more accurately, why the hell have we bought an apple orchard?  There is no money in apples, nearly everyone around the Huon will tell you that, but then we aren’t orchardists and have no intention of producing apples for the supermarkets.  We plan on keeping 20-30 acres of apple trees, picking and selling juicing apples with the help of WWoOFers and the like, and over the course of a number of years turning the rest into pasture where we can run cattle.  Within the orchard itself we plan to run sheep, pigs and poultry.  At some point we will graft some of the varieties over to heritage varieties for ourselves, some cider varieties for juice and just maybe some dessert apples for farm sale.  We will also setup a vegetable garden for ourselves, plant other fruit and nut trees, and eventually setup a couple of cottages for farmstays.  But for now, we are flat out doing all the things we have to do before we settle and complete the purchase in October.

The name: we have decided to name our farm Our Mates’ Farm.  It was something that we have been giving a bit of thought to, and it is because we envisage a place all our friends feel like they can visit and feel a part of.  Also we want anyone who buys anything from us to feel the same.  And in a small way, it is our way of saying thank you to everyone we have met who have supported us in this crazy plan of ours.  We have so many friends who have inspired and encouraged us to follow our dream (and promised that they would visit) that we feel it belongs to them just a bit as well.  Hence: Our Mates’ Farm.

There will probably be some strange conversations because of the name (kind of like this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rm1bPS3kVpQ), but hopefully most people get it.

So what’s next?  So much I don’t know where to begin.  We have to think about getting some sheep in there now to get the grass under control, we are getting a Maremma sheepdog from the Backfatters crew in Queensland, I have to do some spraying even before we complete to ensure we don’t get disease issues, and all this is without even touching on the business registration stuff we have to do to get setup.  But we have a house, an address, a room for visitors and very soon an internet connection so it is all manageable.  And when Tasmania turns on days like yesterday, all that work feels like a small price to pay for living in one of the most amazing parts of the world.

We will post more photos as soon as we can, but for now here is the link to the agent blurb (not sure how long it will stay up for – we bought both titles) and just a couple of snaps Cor took this afternoon.

The good life - here we come!

Can't wait to get some of these guys!

Sprung!

Sorry, there is no new news on the property hunt, but I thought I would put up some photos from the last couple weeks to keep you entertained while we search on.

Spring has sprung down here, and is giving up some pretty sweet light for photography.  Plus there has been some real activity on the work and course front as the Tasmanians shake off their winter slumber and come to life!

Mornings can be frosty

Two of the triplets, doing well

Bob (short for Shish-kabob) is a bit of romantic.  Yes he is doing well!

New pig life at the farm.

We have been milking Elsie!  Great fun, but we always leave a bit for Herbert.

No peace for a cup of tea when Bob is around.

Taking hay to the cattle.

At a Sprout winter market garden course - very interesting!

OK, now today's activities may be a bit confronting for some, but here goes.....

Getting ready to process one of the Fat Pig Farm pigs we took to be killed yesterday.

Ross taking off the shoulder for coppa.

That's right, your tasty breakfast sausage had a face.  See it, accept it, respect it, and if you are up for it, eat it too!

Watching Ross knock out sausage twists - it's hypnotic!

The leg, waiting to be cut into a trotter, hock and a cured ham.

So that is it for now, stay tuned for more adventures to come!

Tough Decisions

I was out walking the property we are looking after for friends on Saturday morning, and to my surprise one of the ewes had lambed.  I say surprise because the instructions we received when we arrived said they weren’t due for a month, plus there was not one, or two, but three lambs, all belonging to one mother.  All three looked like they were trying to feed from mum, and we brought them into the paddock close to the house so that we could keep an eye on them.  The next morning, however, it became apparent that one of the lambs was not strong enough to feed on his own, and that if left on his own would probably die.  He could barely walk a few feet without laying down, and didn’t have the strength to get to the mother and feed while competing with two siblings for her two udders.

Two of the triplets

We had a tough decision to make.  Learn to bottle feed him, with all the work required in doing it every 4 hours, or leave him to die.  If it was our animal, we would probably have left it to die, as the genetics of the natural survivors are stronger, and the cost of sheep-milk replacer doesn’t really justify it ($60 for the powder, $70 to actually buy a lamb).  Plus the owners of the farm said they were not going to be upset if he died.

Tough decision time for this guy

We decided to bottle feed him.  This isn’t our farm and that is not our animal.  Our job isn’t to make the decision whether to let it die, it is to do our utmost to ensure every single animal is alive when they get back, regardless of how much work is required.  It is our responsibility, nothing less.

Getting the lamb used to drinking from the bottle

And the little bastard has responded marvellously.  Some borrowed goat colostrum from Matthew next door (sheep can digest it), fed every 4 hours over Sunday and Monday, and the little guy was running about the house this morning, sprawling all over like Thumper on ice (apparently wooden floors aren’t that grippy for cloven feet).

We gave him a feed in the morning, and then put him in the paddock with mum so he can hang with his siblings.  We didn’t expect the ewe to take him back, and she was knocking him around whenever he tried to follow his instincts and feed from her.  But she must have caved at some point, because we came back in the afternoon and wouldn’t you know it, there he is, drinking from his mum, like nothing at all had happened.  He was a different lamb to the one we brought in on Sunday, running around and playing with the other two.  After a bit more watching it seemed like the ewe wouldn’t always let him feed, so we decided to keep up the bottle feeding.

One of the lambs may still die (they will always grow slower than a single lamb), but it won’t be because we didn’t try to keep them alive.

The other tough decision surrounds the house/land hunt.  So many options, and so many possibilities.  We don’t know what business we would want to setup, which means that we are trying to buy a place that gives us the greatest number of possible businesses.  So do we take a place with an established orchard with some sheds that requires tree removal to create pasture and a house-site, or a blank-slate of pasture with a few sheds that is an hour from Hobart?

Each of these would lend themselves to a great business: the orchard property could support pigs, farmstays and farm gate sales; the blank slate could run pastured beef and poultry and farmstays.  But which would be better?  As I said, tough decisions…..

Cor and the agent walking around the orchard property

Just part of the orchard

The Buff Orpington rooster where we are farm sitting

And finally, a Muscovy drake, a great duck for eating

Seeing faces we may never see again....

Well this is not something we plan to do, but it does come with being “on the road again” (according to Willie Nelson anyway).  And that is where we are, heading for the good life.  It feels as if we have been waiting in limbo for so long, it is hard to remind ourselves that we have spent a lot of the time learning valuable skills and making contacts that will serve us in good stead when we buy our own project farm.

Carly and her dog!

And so we are driving south.  On our way down we popped in to see Carly and her dad’s avocado farm in Bundaberg and catch up, hard to believe it had been 5 years since she was in London with us.

Love that NZ scenery, check out those mountains.

We spent a week over in New Zealand helping Cor’s parent’s clean out their apartment in Christchurch, and got to see Casey and Natasha, plus spend a couple of days with our niece and nephew.

Caleb and Emily show promising climber skills

Caleb having a ball

Since then we have had a great few days in Brisbane spending time with friends and family (my baby sister!).  We picked up the trailer we ordered made and unpacked our storage locker.  12 years that stuff had been in there!  Two loads of rubbish went to the dump, including lots of mouldy clothes and shoes that we will never wear again.  A nice reminder of just how horribly I used to dress (my casual wear style could euphemistically be called “reformed skater boy”).  We have named the trailer “Taylor”, so that together with Chuck the Truck we can call them Chuck Taylor.

It had to be big enough to fit two cows..... and all our junk.

Chuck Taylor explanation for those who don't get it..... actually it doesn't make that much sense, but it rhymes.

We had a fun time catching up with our friends with kids as well as those who aren’t so encumbered, and it was amazing that everyone could make the effort to see us in the limited time window that we had.  It was great to see you all.  Sarah and Vince even promised us details of someone who lives just up the road from where we are looking to buy.  He dives for crayfish and abalone, so has immediately moved to the top of my “must get to know” list.  We received many assurances of visits, some will happen, some may not, but we know that we certainly won’t be getting too lonely down there on the “south island”.

With Kate and Kevin!

We popped into Sydney for a couple of days with Cor’s uncle Robert on his farm in Vineyard, tapping into his extensive poultry breeding experience and picking up more of Cor’s extensive library.  I don’t know how the hell we are going to fit all of her books into just one house, but it is going to need a full size library (she has requested one with those ladders on wheels).  And speaking of getting clucky this weekend we are with my sister for my niece’s first birthday, no doubt turning me into a wannabe parent, for a few days at least!

Clucky, me?

On 15 August we arrive back in Tasmania.  We will be farmsitting for a couple of friends for a few weeks, and after that we have decided that while we are looking for a property to buy we are going to rent a house.  Any place we likely buy will likely not have a house, and renting a place will give us time to get a cottage built, and also allow us to have our shipping container delivered to access all those things that we shipped from London.  It will give us an address, allowing us to transfer our drivers licences, vehicle registrations, and most importantly, medical info so that I can have my sinus things sorted in Hobart.

So that is where we are.  A week from Tasmania, accelerating towards the good life with the mainland in the rearview mirror.

Supposed to be driving into the future (but in reality just driving a moving truck in NZ)

Some photos from our catch ups.....

Winner winner, bacon dinner!

Since my appointment disaster, we have been “pissed in paradise” and trying to get as much done in North Queensland as we could both to tidy up old loose ends and prepare for our new life in Tasmania.

Oh, and Cor has been baking too!

However while out doing some shopping Coreen and I were intrigued to see some frozen rare breed pork and goat being sold in a local fish shop.  It seemed like an odd product choice for a fish shop until we talked to Dominic, the owner.  To our amazement it transpired that we have a couple producing free-range rare-breed pork and Boer goats right here in Ingham!  I asked around and no one had heard much about it, apart from some gossip about the couple possibly being involved in the re-opening the old Taylor’s Beach abattoir.

So Cor and I got their phone number, and after some phone tag got in touch with Jules of Backfatters to go out and find out what was fact and what was fiction.

And what we found out was that not only were Jules and her partner Shane raising rare Large Black and Berkshire pigs, they were driving the development of a whole new form of agribusiness in an area traditionally dominated by sugar cane production.  On arrival at their farm we were met by some beautiful Maremma dogs, and I thought “here we go, we are in the right place”.  Maremmas are traditionally used to protect stock from predators (dingos, wild dogs etc) and if properly socialised are also excellent with people.

Jules told us the story of how they became “accidental pig farmers” when their boar got out one Christmas and mated all their sows, giving them (3 months 3 weeks and 3 days later) a massive number of piglets to get rid of.  She shared their experiences trying to get their animals humanely dealt with, and the sheer frustration and tyranny of distance that led to them to try to reopen the Taylor’s Beach abattoir.  She explained how government bureaucracy initially made it impossible, and how it was only a message on Facebook to all their market customers in Townsville saying that they were “going out of business” that galvanised a team of savvy loyal customers to help them fill in forms, prepare reports, document procedures and secure the necessary permissions to reopen the abattoir.

Backfatters also have these cute little guys!

She was open about the challenges they face, and proud of their achievements (try getting your new farm to survive Yasi, a Category 5 cyclone – yikes!).  Their produce is so good, they were finalists in the Delicious magazine produce awards and attended the finals in Sydney last week.  And they now have people from all over north Queensland sending them their animals for slaughter and processing.  If you can get your hands on pork or goat from Backfatters, do it, you won’t regret it.

Cor and I were overwhelmed.  To find yet another couple of people, 20 minutes from where I grew up, following their dream (or at least that of their boar), was absolutely brilliant.  The road beckons tomorrow as we start our long drive south, but the information that Jules and Shane were prepared to share with us made us feel like this thing we are planning may not be such a lonely road to travel after all.

Pissed in Paradise

It is a beautiful day outside.  It must be rocking mid 20’s C in the middle of winter, blue skies, a real picture of paradise.  And I am very pissed off.

See?  Paradise!

Let me rewind a little….

As our regular readers know, our car accident a few years ago left me with a pretty smashed up nose, which has been giving me general grief for years (leaking, sinus headaches etc), and specific problems since a bout of sinusitis last year ruined our plan to climb Mt Kinabalu and threatened to scupper our dive trip of a lifetime (see this blog post).

What I haven’t told folks is that in December when I went to have the nose looked at it turned out that I also have a benign bone tumour in my left cheek.  It is something that will likely keep growing for the rest of my life, and which I will have to have shaved back periodically to prevent it putting pressure on my left eye.  In a way, the car accident which led us to re-evaluate our lives has also led to the discovery of this growth.

You can see the tumour - that white patch on the right

In December I went on the waiting list to have the sinuses drained and the cheek bone biopsied (to confirm the nature of the growth), and in March, I got the call up.  The only problem was that Cor and I were in Tasmania working with some wonderful people and looking for our new home.  So I gave up my March appointment on the understanding that they would reschedule me for when we returned to North Queensland in June.

And now I am pissed off.  It transpires that they did not actually reschedule me (apparently the people who told me that weren’t the people who make the ENT appointments), and now I won’t get seen by the doctor for at least 1-2 months.

So here we are.  In North Queensland, in paradise as it were, pissed off.  There are a few things we can do, sure.  We are spending some time with family, doing a spot of fishing, sorting out a few things to take with us, organising Cor’s Australian drivers licence (she has to do the test!), and doing some prepatory reading for our new life as farmers.  But would we much rather be in Tasmania, enjoying the cold days out working in the paddocks, the nights in front of a fire, and looking for our new property?  Absolutely.

I know I don't look pissed.... but it is hard to be angry when you are fishing.

So the plan for now is for Cor to do her driver’s test in the third week of July, and shortly thereafter head back down to Tassie via Brisbane, Sydney and Melbourne, seeing some good friends, picking up some of the stuff that has been stored for 12 years or more on the way.  When I get the call for the operation I can leave Cor with the truck and fly back north to get it all sorted.

It all sounds good, but for now I am still pissed in paradise.

Cor is certainly making the best of it.