
 |
| Strawberry
fields for ever: |
|
Posted JUNE 11, 2003: “I don’t
see a future in conventional production down here,”
says Bob Muth, shaking his head. “Organic is the only
way to go.”
This is a second-generation South Jersey vegetable grower
talking, in his second year of fully certified organic production.
In the first place, he explains, with the increase in conventional
vegetable growing around the globe, wholesale prices are too
low and too unpredictable. In the second place, it’s
only a matter of time before environmental standards are tightened.
“I hear they’re doing well now with lettuces down
in Vineland. But every time it rains they put down another
ton of fertilizer. I don’t even want to think about
what’s going on with the groundwater under there. It
can’t last.”
 |
| Sea
of peppers, sinking fast: |
|
 |
The Muth Farm is in Gloucester County, in southwestern New
Jersey, south of Philadelphia and north of Vineland, the traditional
hub of vegetable production on New Jersey’s broad coastal
plain. Since Bob took over the family business in 1990, he’s
focused on a handful of summer crops, including cucumbers,
summer squash, melons, tomatoes, and bell peppers, grown in
long rotations with extensive use of sod-forming cover crops.
In the late 1990s he began transitioning to organic, and in
2002 he started a small CSA on his first 3 certified acres.
This year he’s got 9 acres organic out of a total of
80. A fifth of that 80 is in vegetables in any given year,
and a little less than half is leased. While he’s started
to transition additional acreage, the decision about whether
to go 100% certified organic or continue with a balance of
organic and sustainable production will depend on how markets
develop in his area.
Bob brings a lifetime of experience to diversified vegetable
production. He grew up helping his dad out on the farm, did
an undergraduate degree in vegetable crops at Rutgers University
and some additional graduate work in plant virology, and spent
three years as a county extension agent in South Carolina,
helping tobacco growers shift into other marketable crops
(“legal crops only, I told them,” he jokes). When
his dad was ready to retire, Bob came home, eventually working
out an agreement with his five brothers and sisters to put
the family property into a trust in order to keep it intact.
Today, Bob’s wife Leda acts as the farm’s business
manager and helps with marketing; their son Daniel, age 7,
works in the summers as Number One Field Scout for pests.
For the bulk of his fieldwork Bob relies on four seasonal,
full-time Mexican immigrants, one of whom has been with him
for 10 years. He pays a competitive hourly wage and gives
his men free on-farm housing, airfare, and produce. Bob values
his workers highly and places a great deal of confidence in
their abilities and opinions. “This is a business, not
a hobby,” he emphasizes. “It’s got to support
my family, plus enable me to pay enough to support my workers’
families.” When he was deciding to do the CSA, he talked
the idea over with his crew first. “I asked them, do
you think we can handle this? They said yes, so we decided
to go for it.”
 |
 |
| Protecting
his organic investment: |
|
Bob’s standard rotation is designed to increase soil
aggregation and build long-term fertility without spending
a lot of money. Most of his soils are a gravelly sandy loam
known as Aura, well drained and with 15% clay. To boost organic
matter, Bob starts by applying large quantities of municipal
leaves. The state of New Jersey banned shade-tree leaves from
landfills in the late 1980s, and regulations allow farmers
to apply up to a 6-inch layer annually, equivalent to 20 tons
of dry matter per acre. Bob now gets 10,000 cu yds a season
from Monroe Township, free of charge, and spreads it in January,
when the ground is frozen, to avoid compacting the soil.
People who think that municipal leaves are full of trash
and have no nutrients are wrong on both counts, says Bob.
According to research done by Rutgers Cooperative Extension,
20 tons/acre of leaves can add 400 lbs of nitrogen, 40 lbs
of phosphorous, 152 lbs of potassium, 656 lbs of calcium,
96 lbs of magnesium, 58 lbs of iron, 44 lbs of sulfur, 22
lbs of manganese, and 1.5 lbs of boron to the soil. “None
of that’s readily available,” Bob points out,
but it will be over time. “You’ll see that moving
in two to three years later in your soil tests.”
The thick layer of leaves keeps the ground relatively wet,
so Bob usually waits until June to plow the leaves under and
then plant hay. “A hay crop regenerates its root system
two to three times a year, which builds organic matter,”
notes Bob. “But more importantly, it moves you into
a no-till situation, which conserves organic matter.”
Tillage accelerates the decomposition of organic matter in
the soil, so “anything you can do to reduce tillage
is going to help your OM levels.”
 |
| Hay
fields for fertility: |
|
 |
Normally Bob sells the hay—he has an arrangement with
a farmer nearby to do all the haymaking in exchange for half
the crop—but on the fields he was converting to organic,
he decided to keep that material in the system, flailing it
and letting it lie. After two or three years in hay, Bob plows
under the sod in the fall and plants a cover crop of rye and
hairy vetch. Finally, in the following spring he plows down
the cover when it's around six or eight inches high, and the
field is ready to return to vegetables.
With this rotation Bob has brought his OM levels up to 6%
in an area where 1.5% is typical, and satisfied all his fertility
requirements. “I remember one of my professors telling
me years ago, ‘if you can build the organic matter level
is your soil, you can solve most of your production problems
right away’—and he was right.” Today Bob’s
sandy South Jersey soils are visibly darkened with the additional
OM.
If the system has a flaw, it is in raising phosphorous too
high, so Bob is working on ways to bring those levels down.
Otherwise, he says, “Weed control is my biggest problem.
With organic matter so high, the weeds just love it. I cultivate
at the string stage, but a week or so after you go through
there’s another whole crop coming up again.” After
a series of well-timed cultivations, Bob and his crew lay
a thick mulch of straw between the rows to discourage late-season
weeds.
The Muths’ approach to CSA has been both cautious and
innovative. In 2002, they offered 35 shares over a ten-week
period, priced at about $30 a week for a generously sized
share. This year they’ve signed on over 100 members
(with a few more on a waiting list) and plan to distribute
for 12 weeks in June, August, and September, keeping July
free for Bob and his workers to focus on their wholesale crops.
 |
 |
| Not
just a box of vegetables: |
|
Bob is pleased with the way the CSA membership has grown.
“Around sixty percent of [our members this year] come
from within three or four miles of here, which I think is
just great,” he marvels.
Each week, the Muths do two pickup days at the farm and two
drop-offs to sites in greater Philadelphia, but Bob finds
the farm pickups work better. “We did the numbers, and
we had 95% retention rate with people coming to the farm,
and a 70% turnover rate with people coming to the drop-off
sites.” Even with newsletters and invitations to come
visit the farm, people coming to the drop-off sites “haven’t
made the farm connection,” as Bob puts it. “To
them it’s still just a box of vegetables.”
The CSA is giving Bob a chance to work with vegetable crops
he and his father had long ago given up growing for their
wholesale markets, as well as serving as a testing ground
for crops like red bell peppers, which he wasn’t sure
at first whether he could do successfully under organic management.
With the eyes of his conventional neighbors on him, Bob confesses
that he was nervous last spring about how things would look,
but by the end of the season he was amazed at how smoothly
things had gone from a production standpoint. “The quality
blew me away. It was better than the best-run conventional
operation I’ve ever seen. Leda called it ‘Bob’s
little Garden of Eden.’”
In fact, the real challenge turned out to be marketing the
surplus, even after giving his CSA members more than they
were bargaining on. Last year he sold a few organic tomatoes
through a Vineland broker to an up-market customer on Long
Island, and offered samples to some other regional organic
wholesalers and retailers, but was frustrated to find that
many of the latter buy their organic produce from California
or abroad and were not interested in local alternatives. “I’d
like to see people educated to the point where they’ll
go into their supermarket and say, ‘I want to see local
produce in here,’” Bob says. Otherwise, “our
wholesale days are numbered.”
| “I’d like to see people
educated to the point where they’ll go into their
supermarket and say, ‘I want to see local produce
in here,’” Bob says. Otherwise, “our
wholesale days are numbered.” |
 |
 |
Like most farmers in New Jersey, the Muths also struggle
with high land values. It’s tricky to run a parallel
operation, with dedicated organic and non-organic equipment
and clearly demarcated packing areas, and Bob would like to
convert the whole operation to organic, but that plan may
not be workable on some of his rented acreage. He’s
been trying to purchase a bit more land here and there, but
with a 77-acre piece nearby recently selling for $4.2 million,
even preserved farmland is spiraling out of reach.
Still, Bob seems to believe that it’s up to the farmer
to figure out how to survive in this market, to make him or
herself valued by the immediate community. “I often
ask myself, what kind of farm are we going to pass on to the
next generation?” With growers like Bob leading the
way, the answer may be: sustainable, organic farms, selling
locally. 
|