The
Story of Provenance Farm
Year
One
It was snowing
slightly when we drove onto the farm with sleet and wind that was harsh
and biting. We bumped over the land, then got out of the bakkie at a
high place on the north side of the Boerberg Mountain and stood there,
gaping at the magnificent sight before us. We looked over the tranquil
Koo valley, beyond the mysterious Simonskloof and Keerom hills, then
when the clouds lifted, the majestic snowy tops of the Matroosberg were
clear and glistening, high above the Hex Mountain range. We were freezing,
whipped by the wind, stung by the sleet, but even so, could hardly contain
ourselves from signing there and then on the dotted line.
The
next day, when the sun came out, we returned and saw that the farm was
in fact a piece of scrubby wasteland, regularly used as a rubbish dump
and abused by the reckless and destructive driving of quad bikes everywhere.
It had very few trees, two leaking dams, a shocker of a road and we
noticed that it was oddly devoid of bird life. But even so we were ecstatic.
We had found our farm at last and vowed then and there to care for and
tend this land, and to the best of our ability, return it to the paradise
that God had once created it to be.
We bought Provenance Farm in July 2008. 198 hectare with 40 hectare
arable and the rest, wild, high mountain land. The farm is nestled against
the Boerberg Mountain in the Koo Valley, 27 km from the picturesque
town of Montagu in the Western Cape.
At
the time, we were living in Plettenberg Bay and had sold our business
and our home and now found ourselves at a crossroads. Peter is a builder
by trade and had his own construction business for over 30 years. I
am a freelance graphic designer and mural artist and, along with these
businesses, we had a Guest House on the banks of the Bitou River. So
our lives had been busy, hectic to the point of frenzy, hence we felt
that it was time to take on a quiet project, something more leisurely
perhaps….
Some say that farming is no place for fools to rush in, so before signing
the offer to purchase, we carefully did research, diligently spending
long hours on the internet, travelling far and wide to look at various
farming operations, speaking to everyone we could find that we thought
could help and advise us. In the end we concluded that for us to go
farming would be ridiculously risky and very hard work and that we’d
be really stupid to go ahead with this idea, so, naturally, we ignored
our own advise and dared anyway to go where Angels fear to tread.
Our plan was to farm with something that wouldn’t be too challenging.
Fruit, vegetables and animals were out of the question as it just looked
too specialised and difficult and we knew that it would be disastrous
for ignorant townies such as us. Then one day, we read in the Farmer’s
Weekly about a couple in the Eastern Cape who were farming with plants
for the extraction of essential oils. We phoned them up and soon were
visiting them on their farm. They showed us around, told us all about
the oils and the plants and generously gave us tons of information,
facts and figures. By the time we drove away from there, we’d
decided what it was that we wanted to do. More research on the internet,
discussions with buyers of the oils and pages and pages of scribbled
notes and sums brought us to the decision to start our farming operation
with the planting of Rose Geranium.
The farm when we bought it had little going for it, except an electrified
sheep kraal, a strong bore hole and that magical view that every day
still takes our breath away. With the help of a local builder we put
up the shell of a small wooden house (still unfinished), and moved here
one sweltering day in February 2009. It was a year of backbreaking hard
work, getting the house liveable with the painting of walls, producing
of cupboards and curtains while making it warm for the winter and cool
for the scorching summer days. The garden was tackled next and one year
on, at last we are beginning to see a small amount of tamed land emerging
from the harsh landscape. Now the birdsong is sometimes deafening from
flocks of weaverbirds, sparrows and pied starlings as they splash about
in the pond and birdbath and squabble over the seed tray that hangs
in a small, young tree.
As for the farming…. Well, a year ago, we planted 300 Rose Geranium
cuttings and 600 Lavender cuttings on a small patch of land, so that
we could monitor them through the winter. They all did very well, in
fact the Geraniums actually continued to grow through the colder months
and the light frost that we get here seemed not to bother them at all.
Encouraged by this outcome and with the help of a neighbouring farmer,
we cracked on with planting 30,000 rooted geranium cuttings onto 2 hectare
of land which was prepared with tons and tons of manure, lime and gypsum
and then fitted with a system of drip irrigation. The Geraniums just
grew and grew and within 4 months we were ready to tackle our first
harvest.
One evening, while searching the internet, I stumbled across an article
that told of how wild Pelagoniums (the correct name for our geraniums)
were found here in South Africa in the early 18th century by French
and English botanists. They had collected various species in the hills
and valleys of the Western Cape, notably Table Mountain, the Hex River
Valley, Koo Valley and Meiringspoort. They took them back to Europe
where hybrids were propagated, and the descendants of these now grow
in gardens and window boxes throughout the world. Our geranium are cuttings
from the species of hybrid which is grown mainly in Reunion, an island
in the Indian Ocean near Seychelles, where French colonialists have
been farming them for many years to supply the oil for their perfume
industry. Now that they are growing again in the Koo Valley, we like
to think that they have finally come home, back to the soil of their
ancestors.
Early in April 2010, we started to harvest our first crop. Ably helped
by our two farm workers, Benoni and James, we had two weeks of cutting
and carting the plants from the fields, then distilling it all in the
wood fired distillation plant which we hired from a manufacturer in
Riebeek Casteel. The thrill of seeing oil bubbling up into the glass
vial of the separator was as exciting as if we'd struck gold. We spent
hours out there, feeding the fire, checking the water levels, filling
and emptying the plant chambers and then reverently drawing off the
precious oils. Late at night when it was just Pete and me sitting on
boxes out there at the still, listening to the roar and hiss of the
fire with bubbles of oil bouncing up from within the separator, we would
share a bottle of wine and make toasts and gaze up at the millions of
stars. It was a magical time. At the end of it we had litres of glistening,
olive green liquid and everything within 100 meters of the shed reeked
of rose geranium, including the entire house, bakkie, both dogs, and
most of my kitchen utensils, the latter having been roped in for various
oil related jobs. Ultimately we decided that it had been an excellent
exercise to see just how viable the project could be. Another surfing
session on the internet resulted in the sale of all of the oil we had
produced as well as the hydrosol, which is the water that is separated
from the oil during the distillation process. We hadn’t thought
of selling the hydrosol until our buyer mentioned it to me in his email.
I had to leap up from my computer and rush outside, shouting to Pete
to put a bucket under the outlet from the separator, as the distilled
hydrosol was all just trickling away down the slope and into the dam.
We celebrated the first sale of our produce with a trip back to Plettenberg
Bay, which had been our home for 31 years before moving to Provenance
Farm. Packets of dried lavender, small bottles of geranium oil and things
made from the above like lavender quince Membrillo (a kind of quince
cheese) or rose geranium flavoured caramels were handed out as gifts
to our old friends.
Two year ago we knew nothing about essential oils and even less about
geraniums, yet now they abundantly surround us, the air thickly fragrant
with their perfume. With a further 60,0000 plants that we’ve propagated
from cuttings (which are currently being added between the existing
plants), another 3 hectare of geranium, 5 hectare of lavender and 5
hectare of camomile still to be added in the near future, Its at least
a three year project to get the right amount of plants in the ground
and at the right stage of maturity for harvesting, before real profits
will be made, with lots and lots of hard work ahead. Pretty scary stuff,
we know, but we take it a step at a time and just deal with the task
at hand each day and hopefully someday we’ll look up from toiling
away, lean on a spade and thankfully consider it all to have been worth
the effort.
Year Two
The heat of summer is relentless from early in the day and throughout
the nights, wilting our young cuttings in the shade-house and blurring
the landscape into a dazzling, dusty, shimmering haze. Work must go
on and the plants needs water so our daily round of chores continue,
at a slower pace, with much sweat, sunburnt skin and many sighs. The
clammy heat of the coast is what we know, but this parched air that
drapes around you like a thick, heavy blanket, is new to us and takes
some getting used to. One February day, when the temperature was soaring
towards 47 degrees C, our daughter Jenna and I could stand it no more,
so we leapt into the car and drove for an hour to Worcester and back,
solely for the purpose of buying a Porta-Pool. With the midday heat
on our shoulders we broke nails, sweated and swore as we wrestled with
the wire frame that holds the pool erect but finally and blissfully
were able to find respite in it's cool, blue wateriness. That pool has
saved our sanity on many occasions and continues to be one of our best
buys
so far!
At last the summer months passed and autumn came gently to the farm,
inspiring the freshly harvested geranium plants to give their last strength
to a flurry of new shoots and leaves. Within weeks they were again bushy
and bright green, luring the sheep from the camp next door to squeeze
through the fence and investigate this delectable looking shrub. Fortunately
for us, it didn't take them long to find out that it wasn't their cup
of tea at all.
Winter arrived early in July. It was a cold, rainy morning and I was
tapping away at my laptop, engrossed and completely unaware of the quiet
changes that were happening outside. At some stage I looked up and out
of the window to see a blur of whiteness and the complete and utter
silence sent me bolting outside with the dogs excitedly yelping at my
heels. There before us was a new, snowy wonderland which stretched as
far as we could see. Sophie and Keisie, (our Jack Russell and American
Bulldog) were stunned, standing transfixed as they sniffed and pawed
at the ground. But very quickly they were delighted to find that the
cold, white, fluffy stuff was diggable, eatable and jolly good fun.
Snapping at snowflakes and galloping about, they had the best day of
their young lives to date. Pete took stock of the geranium and lavender
plants which were completely blanketed in snow and we began to fret
about what this might do to them. But as the days went by and we saw
that no ill effects were in evidence, we stopped worrying. In fact,
it because quite clear that these plants loved the cold conditions and
continued to grow vigorously through the winter months.
In late September it was time again to harvest. Once again we fetched
the wood fired distillation plant and set it up behind the house in
a place well sheltered from the wind. Once again Pete and our tireless
lads in the fields, toiled, cut and carted loads of geranium leaves
and stalks in an endless procession from field to furnace. During this
time we had a stream of visitors in the form of family, friends and
neighbours, all curious to see what we were up to. The 'Chitty Chitty
Bang Bang' distillation plant is a strange looking object with taps,
switches and dials, smoke billowing from it's high chimney and a fierce
fire burning in it's belly for days, so it's no wonder that there were
many jokes regarding the manufacturing of mampoer and illicit whiskey
and the suspicious 'goings on' at our remote mountain-side farm. This
time though it was different. The oil just poured forth and at the end
of three weeks we had a store room shelf, packed with large, dark brown
bottles of superb geranium oil that released to the house a sudden blast
of heavily scented air, each time the door was opened. Even now, though
the oil is no longer there, the scent in that store-room is as strong
as ever and heavenly to breathe.
It became clear, early in our farming endeavours, that to survive financially
we were going to have to add value to the oils with the manufacturing
of our own body care products. As Pete is wholly occupied with farming,
it fell upon me to begin this process. At first, I was completely daunted
by the huge task of starting a business of which I knew nothing about.
My first tentative research on the matter made me realise that, although
intriguing, making cosmetics is a huge and varied subject and is very
scientific and scary. None the less it didn't take long to find suppliers
of the raw materials, which led to the discovery of a Heaven-sent cosmetic
pharmacist in Johannesburg, who was willing to guide me through my first
wobbly steps in this fascinating world of formulating lotions and potions.
Before long I was whipping up luscious creams, yummy body butters, balms,
shampoos and scrubs. My mind was awash with ideas for new products and
my husband became the ever patient lab-rat. After a frenzied morning
in the kitchen, surrounded by bowls of cream, bottles of oils and various
additives and active ingredients, I'd take a jar of my latest experiment
to Pete in the fields. He'd push back his hat, then he'd sniff and paste
it onto his dry, brown arms then, with much deliberation and more sniffing
and pasting, he'd give me his considered opinion. This went on for months
until I began to feel confident that what I was producing were acceptable,
high quality products and I was ready to reveal what I had made to a
small circle of friends and family for judgement. I was surprised and
delighted when the feedback was positive and when it was not, I was
spurred on with greater determination to get it right. The shampoo and
conditioner were my biggest challenges and after a few buckets of failed
attempts I finally created a product that pleased everyone.
A phone call to Carma Hair Studios in Montagu resulted in our first
real sale. The owners of this business are Michael and Carla Cole, hairdresser
and alternative health specialist respectively. We will be eternally
grateful to them for their incredible trust and faith in us and for
enthusiastically and excitedly stacking their shelves in the studio
with our products, which were made with their specific needs and preferences
and labelled with their own branding.
It has taken more time to package and label the products than it took
to formulate and make them because, as a graphic artist, I was designing
a new label every week then sending it out to friends and family for
opinions. This resulted in many and varied points of view which confused
and discouraged me and so I began to lose my own vision. Finally our
son Sam, an Art Director at an advertising company in Cape Town, gave
me the best advise I had received so far. He suggested that it would
be a good idea to paint a botanical representation of the rose geranium
and use it simply and cleanly on a label that would characterise what
my products were about. This I did and lo and behold, it worked perfectly.
Christmas in The Koo Valley is a complete contrast to what we'd know
back in our Plettenberg Bay days. Coastal towns have long been the destination
of choice for South Africans holidaying over the festive season. In
their thousands they return each year and the locals wait for them with
eager anticipation of the lovely lolly that they part with so willingly.
But when they come, a local's life becomes a nightmare round of unaccustomed
queues in the supermarkets and banks, zero parking anywhere and sharing
the beach and ocean with a mass of humanity who seemingly don't have
any idea of the concept of personal space. But in the Koo the rhythms
of life are uninterrupted, the pace steady and unhurried as ever. Even
in the town of Montagu it's blissfully free of queus and traffic and
looks for all the world like a normal day with people going calmly about
their business. Where once I dreaded the craziness of the festive season,
I now look forward to it each year with great excitement. It's become
a very special time, a time to be spent with close family and new friends
in the peace and tranquillity of Provenance Farm.
With our products labelled and bottled, we were ready to unveil them
to the world; well, to Montagu actually, and the first opportunity arose
in the form of the annual Night Christmas Market in the centre of the
town. Besides the market, we had been lucky enough to secure orders
from our old friends Pippa and John Saunderson Smith for their shop
in Plettenberg Bay, as well as for 'Spaces', a wonderful barn of a shop
in nearby Robertson. Now that we had something to work towards, production
took on frenzied proportions and I was working long hours to ensure
that we had enough stock. Jenna, Pete and I set up our stall at the
market under the trees that were festively adorned with fairy lights.
We had brought along our own yellowwood table on which we placed a green
painted display stand and decorated it with pink straw, a milk bucket
full of lavender and of course the bottles and jars of products. Soon
there were eager customers that were interested and impressed with our
wares and by the end of the evening we were happily counting out a respectable
sum of earnings. To each of those customers we owe a debt of gratitude
because without knowing it, they have buoyed up our confidences and
confirmed to us that this growing passion for creating wonderful products
is the right direction in which to head. May we never forget that it
is for them and for all future customers that we will be creating our
products and to their needs that we must always be conscientiously attentive.