Into the second generation
From Griffith REVIEW Edition 10: Family Politics
© Copyright Griffith University & the author.
Written by Elizabeth Pullen
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Elizabeth Pullen's biography and other articles by this writer
Banana plants grow like people. A white banana corm planted beneath the soil can give life to endless generations of banana plants. The corm sprouts into a pseudostem, a stem composed of leaf sheaths. A flower stalk grows from the top of the corm up through the stem to eventually break through the plant's top leaves and grow into a banana bunch. Simultaneously the corm grows another pseudostem, a sucker stem, and when it's mature, the corm sprouts another pseudostem sucker. When I was a child, Grandfather explained to me that "you see grandma, you see daughter and you see granddaughter, moving up the hill ... they're a generation, once you cut that bunch, grandma dies and the next generation begins".
Grandfather was thinking of his next generation when he bought land in the Nambucca Valley and planted his first banana corm in 1959. He'd planned for the banana plantation to be a family business, for him, his sons and their sons. He worked hard to establish his reputation as a producer of premium bananas and, with the help of Grannie and Dad, he succeeded. At the local shows' agricultural competitions they won "champion case of bananas" twelve times, "king banana" six times, best "banana hand" four times, best "carton of bananas" two times and "most successful exhibitor" three times. Grannie holds the record for packing the best case of bananas. "It got the most points that's ever been given at the Macksville Show. I think it scored 98 points," Grandfather says.
BUT THE FUTURE OF THE BANANA PLANTATION FOR THE NEXT GENERATION would depend upon more than the quality of the bananas. Industry politics entered the plantation. Grandfather fought them from the Banana Growers Federation's (BGF) boardroom by creating a clearance scheme and initiating export-market research.
In the early 1970s, the Sydney and Melbourne markets had a banana glut. To counteract this problem the BGF implemented a clearance scheme.
When Grandfather and Dad delivered their bananas to the Macksville BGF depot, their docket book had an algorism in the margin. The total number of cartons and boxes that were to be sent to market was divided and subtracted by a third.
"How's it going?" Grandfather asked.
"Not bad. A couple of growers have been puttin' seconds in and they all have a whinge, but on the whole, not bad," the depot boss said.
"What's the use of sending all the bananas grown to market in a glut time? You get nothin' for them."
Dad and the boss nodded.
"Righto," the boss yelled. Two young men emerged from the shed holding a long knife. "Twenty-six cartons, thirteen boxes, boys."
The men walked around the truck slicing bananas through the cardboard cartons' oval holes and the wooden boxes' slits.
"You'd better check 'em, boss, I don't want special treatment," Grandfather said.
The boss opened at random some of the sliced bananas' cartons' lids, checking for second-grade bananas and shredded newspaper hidden beneath the bananas.
"To go?" the boss asked.
Grandfather and Dad nodded.
"The cows certainly appreciate the clearance scheme," Dad said, trying to laugh. He added up the time spent fertilising, propping, bagging, cutting and packing the cows' dinner. If all the New South Wales banana growers were honest, a third could just be left to rot in the plantation.
Grandfather and Dad helped unload the cartons and boxes into a railway container. A ute pulled up; its door slammed and a banana grower approached Grandfather.
"When are you and the other bigwigs gunna get rid of this clearance scheme?"
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Grandfather shrugged his shoulders. "If I were a fortune teller I wouldn't be here, I'd be doin' the show circuit and reading people's palms." Grandfather's years on the BGF had taught him to combat anger with humour whenever possible.
"No doubt when all the little growers like me are washed up ... It's survival of the fittest."
"But nobody's fit enough. None of us can go forever on no money. The idea of keeping a third back and only sending what can sell is a much better idea." Grandfather always said that disgruntled growers didn't bother him, but deep in his corm I know they did.
There was also a clearance scheme at the Sydney and Melbourne markets. At the end of each week, the old, stale bananas were given to pig farmers so that they wouldn't compete with the new bananas and reduce their price.
In 1980, when the market competition worsened because of North Queensland's banana production, Grandfather and other BGF board members travelled abroad seeking an export market. The United Arab Emirates and Greece were the only possibilities as their import tariffs didn't eliminate all the profit. In Saudi Arabia "we were too successful", Grandfather says. "When we got home they gave us an order for 250,000 tonnes or something and we couldn't supply it ... Greece was ruled out as it was an opportunist market, their demand for New South Wales bananas wasn't reliable."
Grandfather's battle to save New South Wales' bananas from industry politics failed. However, his dream of his banana plantation being a family business for his sons and their sons continues as surely as the banana plant sprouts a new pseudostem sucker.