What would you plant on a two acre parcel?

Ryan wrote me asking  what I would plant right now, if I were settling on a small parcel in Hawaii, and I want to grow most of my food for my family on the land, and live somewhat sustainably.

My needs for a good combination of food crops is:

1) an abundance of calories, oils, protein, greens

2) not too difficult to grow, harvest and prepare

3) delicious to eat

…and it is a big bonus if the crop has…

4) a long harvest season, or

5) is easy to preserve and store

It is very advantageous for the farmer and the land…

6) that the crops be no-till. (This means that it requires no plowing.) Plowing the land year after year is just plain not sustainable for the soil, and it is a bunch of hard work for the farmer, or his servants, animals, or machines (all potentially problematic).

If I were in various mainland climates, I might be raving about pecans, walnuts, hazel nuts, almonds, pine nuts, blueberries, apples and the other stone fruits (peaches, apricots etc.), but this article is only about the lowland tropics(below 1,000 ft):

At about 30 foot spacing, one could fit roughly 45 trees in an acre. This figure is complicated by the fact that many plants grow well as understory crops, and some (like bananas) closer together than that number. Simply put, if you mix tall and short plants, and sun loving and shade loving plants together, and so on, you can fit more than if you were to plant an orchard of one variety. That said, one needs to consider the amount of sun space and soil space that each plant needs to survive or to thrive.

The first acre would need room for at least some of the following: a house, a storage/workshop building, water tank, an array of solar electric panels, solar hot water panels, sun space for garden areas, a clothes drying area, driveway.

Of course, some areas can serve multiple purposes, and some trees can be planted above some of the infrastructure, increasing the capacity. Elevation, soil, rainfall, and wind all influence what will grow well on a property.

In order to be concise,  I am leaving out most details of why I chose this or that plant, and many details about particular needs and attributes of these trees. Perhaps I will write a series of fact sheets about key trees…

I will make one exception by mentioning that coconuts and breadfruit are less productive as you increase elevation and are less than ideal over 1,000 feet or so. That said, at 500 feet or lower, those 2 would be the first trees on my list.

I would plant at least these, in order of importance:

• 18 coconuts palms (a mix of tall and dwarf)
• 2 breadfruit (of different varieties to increase the length of season.)
• 5 different grafted avocados (chosen for fruit availability year round)
• 1 key lime tree
• 20 banana plants
• 1-4 grafted mac nuts
• 2 grafted jackfruit
• 1 breadnut
• 1 Malabar chestnut
• 1 Minneola tangelo
• 5 papaya plants
• 1 small diameter bamboo (under 2″ diameter, for poles, trellises, rails, handles)

Then for greens:

• 1 hedge of Chaya
• 1 hedge of Katuk
• 1 hedge of edible hibiscus

And for alternate carbohydrates:

• cassava patch
• taro patch
• sweet potato patch
• A few yams

The rest, I would divide up amongst your favorite fruit trees: Tangerines (various), Brazilian cherry, Jaboticaba, Pomelo, Oranges, Surinam cherry, chico sapote, Mangosteen, Durian, Soursop, Rollinia, Cacao, Coffee, Mango (dry areas only), Rambutan, Lychee, Longan, Chempedak, Starfruit, Star Apple, Abiu, Lemon, Grapefruit, Marang, Passionfruit(vine), Pili nut, Wi apple, Peach palm, Acai palm, Cashew, Cinnamon, and others.

I have planted all of the above, (they all have their particular characteristics and advantages) but for sake of discussion, my personal top picks of these (all things considered) are: tangerines (various), Jaboticaba, Lychee, Star apple, Passionfruit (yellow), and Rollinia.

I would also consider adding some more bamboo plants, if you have space (bamboo plants are larger than you might think), such as: Bambusa textilis, Guadua angustifolia, gigantichloa apus, and Bambusa tuldoides.

Before planting any of these plants, get to know what conditions each require, and check that the appropriate form of propagation was used (seedling, graft, air layer etc.)

This plan would allow some more space for a few additional larger trees (timber trees, large bamboo, Pili nut, etc.) which could double as trellis for the many useful tropical vines. (Chayote, Passionfruit, Kiwano, Yam)

As you are planning this system, there are two particularly useful livestock that shouldn’t be overlooked.

1. It is often a good idea to have some tropical sheep in your orchard. They will eat many of the weeds, and supply meat eaters with an occasional lamb. At minimum, they need a sturdy fence to keep dogs out, and a tarp for shelter from the rain. Sheep could be included at no more than 2 animals per acre, usually less.
2. Additionally, a 2 acre parcel could easily include 30 chickens in a free range situation. “Free range” to me means they live as feral animals and find their own food and shelter.

The inclusion of sheep and chickens would provide substantially more food, and would likely save work, since they would be doing “work” during their normal foraging activities, and they provide for almost all of their needs with scant human input.

So, there is a basic plan to get you started. I’ve left out most timber plants, fiber plants, annual garden plants, herbs, groundcovers, medicinals, aquaculture, root crops, spice trees… I’ve pretty much neglected all of the understory plants, and I’m hoping to convince my wife, Karin to write a sequel to this post soon.

How expensive is it to live as you do, once you are set up?

Some folks think that living simply is a moral duty. Some others think that living simply improves their quality of life. Either way, I will discuss our present money situation, and a few of our unusual lifestyle choices.

But first, I will tell you about two billboards I saw while driving down highway 580 in Oakland years ago. They were both advertisements for the California lottery. They were quotes by recent lottery winners. One was,”I threw away my alarm clock”. The other read,”I burned my ties”. My point is, in my present lifestyle, I can connect with the glee, and the freedom they expressed.

It’s been 10 years since I bought this farm and started working on it. At this point, Karin and I are basically done with expanding the infrastructure. The orchards are at 10-20% of their eventual production, so there are still shortages of some desirable foods. We are still experimenting with new projects, and adding new orchards and wood lots, but we’re not putting much money into that.

The two of us are living on a total household income of about $700 per month, here in Hawaii. That’s about $4,000 per person per year. This includes everything! (land taxes, dentist, house repair, transportation, etc.) Every month, we portion out our $700 into various envelopes for each category of expense.

Here is what our envelope looks like:

land tax                               25
telephone                            35
dial up internet                    10
long distance card               10
computer replacement         20
solar electric                         20
medical & dental                 120
propane                                15
office & household                15
farm (tools & maint)            125
scooter (repair & gas)           15
Scott (food & clothes & etc) 100
Karin (food & clothes & etc) 130
chainsaw & weedeater         30

This comes to $670. We’ve been using this system for over a year, and it is actually working very well, and it’s a pretty accurate measure of our actual expenses so far. We occasionally need to ‘borrow’ money from another section for sudden expenses, but we have usually (not always) paid it back. It’s been very successful, and an educational experience for us to keep track so thoroughly. Some things just don’t get purchased, and our lives just keep running along smoothly.

We are not poor, we are not living in poverty. Though our income is below the poverty line, I consider my life luxurious. This budget doesn’t encourage off-island travel, dentist bills seem huge, I would love to replace my old guitar, and so on, but we are living quite nicely.

Living on the cheap has been partly about working the land, but mostly about letting go of habitual beliefs.

The biggest recent money savings came from selling our motor vehicle. The trick here is not so much that we saved on gas, insurance, and repairs, (though we did) but there is now less opportunity to buy comfort foods, impulse purchases, reward purchases for how much suffering I went through during my time in town, and so on. It is surprising how much less we spend, and it doesn’t reduce my contentment. We just stay around Kapoho area, and it’s much nicer. If the truth be told, I fought tooth and nail for the past few years against divesting ourselves of our farm truck. My wife, Karin, was more committed to a car-free life than me. I was afraid that we would have trouble getting materials and salvaging things. But the time finally came when our infrastructure was basically complete. The seemingly endless period of bringing supplies onto our farm has indeed passed its peak. Now, we only seem to step into an automobile about once per month. It is a very sweet life. And Karin was right; there were unforeseen benefits to getting rid of our farm truck.

In the process of getting rid of our automobile, I noticed (at least) two things: First, it took a certain amount of readjusting my lifestyle to be happy without a car, and second, it never felt like the right time. I always felt insecure. I kept imagining emergencies, or other events where a motor vehicle would be indispensable. We live in a close knit village, and a few neighbors made standing offers to hitch a ride with them on their town trips. That helped.

One of the factors that encouraged me to get rid of our truck was doing some math. We calculated that, all inclusive, it costs us at least 50 cents per mile to drive our ‘91 Toyota truck. That means a trip to Hilo town costs about $35. This makes hitching, bicycle, bus, and even taxi look pretty good. For a year, whenever we drove, we checked our odometer, and put our driving cost into an envelope labeled “truck expenses”. We watched lots of money go into that envelope during the year. This made the cost more visible to us.

I could get my food expenses down to zero if I were really committed to eating only what I grow. However, I am spending some money to buy certain foods that I find delicious and satisfying. $40 per month goes to cheese, butter, ice cream, cookies, and cooking oil (all organic, and priced to startle). The other $30 goes to a local farmer/friend who sells fresh milk, which I allow to culture into something like yogurt. I harvest, forage, or hunt the rest of my food.

My carbs are mostly breadfruit, bananas, taro. My greens are mostly sweet potato greens, edible hibiscus, chaya, and moringa. I eat fruit all day, if it is available. I feel no reason to buy carbs, greens, or fruit. I have been trading for off-grade mac nuts this month. Last month, I received some lamb meat in exchange for slaughtering and butchering it.

Travel is probably the second biggest potential expense, next to medical emergencies (knock on wood). With a yearly budget of less than $8,000, a trip for two to the mainland would eat up about four months of our annual income. This was one of the factors in my decision not to go to my brother’s wedding a few years back. This was confusing and painful for several of my family members. I dread having to make some difficult funeral decisions in the coming years. I haven’t left the island since ‘03. Maybe that was my last time.

In terms of medical treatment for accidents, the last time I accompanied a friend to Hilo hospital to get stitches, I watched very carefully. The procedure cost over a thousand dollars, yet my do-it-yourself material cost would have been under ten bucks. There are many things like this to consider.

Reducing expenses is often more practical than increasing income. When confronted with something that “needs” to be done, I’ve learned that doing nothing can sometimes be a viable option.

I am still startled by the puny pathetic girth of my money savings account. We have intentionally converted any spare money we had into actual durable objects, and it is curious how insecure this occasionally leaves me feeling. I am familiar with the unconscious act of “investing” in another entity that I know very little of, like a bank. When I had a chunk of extra money, I used to buy stocks. It is strange and wonderful to invest in my own family economy. I now have an abundance of things, like orchards of trees, beehives, machetes, tools, nails, work clothes, bike parts, and so on. I have a small number on my bank statement. It means that if life gets rough, I won’t have the option to write a fat check and make things all better. I’ll have to make other arrangements.

It’s funny, as I get out of the habit of actually handling money, it becomes less enjoyable. It feels like I am recovering from an addiction of the process of exchanging money. It’s not just the thrill of getting the object of my desire; there’s an oddly comfortable feeling from just shuffling around the stuff. So now, money appears less frequently in my daily life. Yesterday I picked some tangerines off a tree, and no money changed hands. Sounds like I am being sarcastic, but I am gradually learning that money is not the source. Seriously. In my gut, it used to be that a pile of money was going to keep me fed. Now I know in my gut that a row of trees will keep me fed. Money comes from other people (like bosses, customers, the government), but trees grow right out of the ground. It’s a nice feeling knowing that I can stay at my farm nurturing trees instead of, for instance, standing behind a counter and saying,”may I help you?” to strangers all day. It’s very exciting, and it makes me want to be more self reliant in other ways besides food.

I am sometimes sad when I must forsake some useful gadget. I am like the monkey who loves shiny things. I want heaps of nice stuff. I want a cordless drill, that aluminum cargo trailer, a durable guitar, waterproof hiking shoes, stainless kitchen items of all sorts (very shiny), and so on. I love to gaze and admire at the cleverness, imagine the future utility, and appreciate the integrity of a well made useful item. This ancient, and very important trait seems to be getting my species in big trouble. So, as my wife occasionally says as I sadly place the item back on the shelf, “we can make it out of bamboo”.

Maintaining Food Security in Hawaii

Scott discusses easy to grow alternatives to some of our more conventional foods. What they are, how they grow and their nutritional value.

Just the other day, while I was eating my supper in one of my “doom and gloom” modes, it occurred to me that I have no idea what sort of a safety net exists globally in terms of food supply. How much food is stored up? My answer could have been three months, or three years. I had no clue. So, I went on a few government web sites to look at the official statistics. As it turns out, since 1999, global grain production has consistently fallen short of demand. Last year was the largest worldwide grain harvest ever, but it  failed to break even. So right now we are left with a 59 day buffer. Two months, then we are running on empty (empty bellies, that is).

It seems to me that there are many links along the chain of food production and distribution that could fail to support the weight of our population. A multitude of surprises could await us: war-inspired blockades, oil shortages leading to fertilizer shortages, weather extremes may fail to nurture our fields, social or economic unrest leading to disorder, local storms interfering with ships. We live in interesting times.There are many things that we can neither change nor predict. Fortunately, here in Hawaii food security comes easy.

As tropical farmers, we have several easy-to-grow alternatives to grains. Some options are: sweet potato, taro, cassava, plantain, breadfruit, malabar chestnut, breadnut, and peach palm. However, some tree crops in particular  make carbohydrates available with very low labor input,  high disease resistance, and a reliable harvest. A few notable ones are Breadfruit, Breadnut, Malabar Chestnut, and Peach Palm.

Many of the plants of the genus Artocarpus grow rapidly and produce heavily on the rainy side of the Big Island. Breadfruit (Artocarpus altilis) is no exception. Breadfruit will begin fruiting in about 3-5 years, and continue fruiting for 50 years or more.  Depending on your conditions, a mature tree fruits more or less continuously for 8-10 months. Some fruits may be present on the tree almost all year long, with ripeness coming in several flushes during the year. As the tree matures, these flushes will overlap more and more, becoming an almost continuous season. There are at least 160 named varieties of breadfruit. I have tasted 7 varieties, and consider them about as similar as the various potatoes. The most interesting factor in having more than one variety of breadfruit is they may ripen at different times of the year. There is very little information available on this island about which varieties fruit at which time(s) of the year. Also,the season varies from year to year, and also according to rainfall, and elevation. I have 6 varieties in the ground, and am gradually learning about these trees. Based on my observations of my fairly young trees, I am guessing that with a few select varieties, a 12 month harvest will be possible. I’ll let you know in ten years. For now, the Hawaiian and Samoan (Ma’a’ fala) are the most readily available, and they make good eating. You can’t go wrong with either of these.

Cooked Breadfruit is less than 2% protein and about 3-6% fat. To prepare a breadfruit for eating, just do anything that you would do to a potato. It can be steamed, boiled, baked, roasted, and/or fried. The skin and core are edible and agreeable, though some prefer to remove them. Once cooked, it can be mashed, sliced, fried, and combined with any recipe in place of pasta, grain, or potatoes. Homefries, lasagna, poi, and pancakes are among the final products. I personally like to steam it in the pressure cooker for 15 minutes, then make mashed breadfruit, because it is so easy. If you can get the timing right, a whole Breadfruit stuffed under the embers at an outdoor fire comes out really delicious.

Breadnut is in the same genus as Breadfruit, but is considered a different species. This tree has very similar appearance and growing habits. It’s fruit  looks very much like a Breadfruit , but is filled with seeds instead of starchy pulp. The seeds are somewhat like jackfruit seeds.  Breadnut has significant amounts of protein (13-16%) and fat (6-29%). Breadnut seeds are very similar to, and a bit better than, Jackfruit seeds. I usually boil Jackfruit seeds for over an hour, when they’re slightly soft and the skin splits.

Malabar Chestnut also grows rapidly and begins fruiting in a few years. It’s fruits are generally similar to Breadnut, in that within each fruit are a number of seeds which can be boiled, roasted,  or steamed to yield a tasty carbohydrate. Malabar seeds are about 16% protein and 40% fat. I like to boil the seeds for 15 minutes, then scoop out the flesh and eat it with a tiny spoon. It has a nutty sweet flavor. A worthy snack all on its own.

Peach Palm (Bactris gasipaes) is known on this island for it’s heart of palm. It grows very rapidly, and is clumping. These two features make it a very prolific producer of palm heart. Of more interest to subsistence farmers is it’s high protein (16%), oily, and starchy fruit. In central and south america, there are dozens of varieties of Peach Palm specifically grown for their fruit. Unfortunately, as far as I know, the varieties that are grown here on this island are selected for their heart. Since these fruits have oxalic acid (like taro) they need to be cooked thoroughly. I boil them for at least an hour (or two) and remove the peel before eating.

I encourage you to plant at least one starch producing tree on your property. It’s a small investment of time and energy, and it may one day meet your most basic needs. Most people in this country, even farmers, have become used to food always being available at the store. For those of us who haven’t experienced hunger, it’s difficult to fathom the emotional effect of not having basic food to put on the table. Psychically, food has been relegated to the position of entertainment. It has not always been so, and it may not always be so in our future. Your Breadfruit tree could one day stand as the most precious thing in your life.

If anyone knows of sources of Peach Palm varieties which are selected for their fruit, or has information about breadfruit seasons and varieties, or if you want to talk story about other aspects of this article, please get in touch with me by leaving a comment below.

- Scott

Second Update on Our Food Experiment

Well, it’s been three years since we have written about how our food experiment is progressing at Evening Rain Farm. In these years, we have learned a bunch, and planted many more varieties of plants. We have gone way beyond what we need to meet our basic needs into an exploration of nearly every tropical plant that might be useful. (well, maybe that’s an exaggeration) I won’t pretend that this brief essay is complete, or even a decent summary of what we’ve been up to. Just consider this a random brain dump of what is on my mind right now.

Our location: Our farm is located in the humid tropics, on an isolated island, within an affluent culture. These factors add up to a uniquely conducive environment for growing one’s own food. I like to say that food self sufficiency on the Big Island of Hawaii is “like cheating”. I will explain in some detail:

1) We have a 12 month growing season. Rain is relatively evenly distributed throughout the year. The temperature is never below 60 degrees. This means that it is never necessary to store food. Storing, freezing, canning are all optional. Planting and harvesting can be accomplished as needed. Fresh food is available every day, all year. Further, it is comfortable to work outside all year. No need to spend months waiting for nature to awake from her winter slumber.

2) The abundant rain and balmy temperature make plants grow fast here. This means that it is reasonable for a middle age person to plant orchards with the expectation of enjoying the products. For example, bananas can bear fruit in 12-18 months, and many other fruit trees bear in 3-5 years.

3) We have very few pests. No gophers, rabbits, deer, monkeys, snakes, raccoons, possum, bats, and many insect pests are absent. They simply haven’t made the 2000 mile journey over the ocean. Consequently, our gardens, orchard saplings, and chickens are relatively safe at night. Our chickens sleep in the trees all year.

4) We have an broad variety of useful plants available. Over the last 100 years, or so, explorers and collectors have acquired most of the interesting useful plants from tropical areas in every continent and brought them back to Hawaii. This means that we have (relatively) easy access to all the best fruit and nut trees, greens, palms, bananas, tubers, and bamboos from all over the world.

For example, we not only have access to Avocado (from Mexico), and Peach Palm (from Central America), but Paradise Nut (from Brazil). So, in my search for a vegetable source of oil, I have at least 8 good options. And the same holds true for access to carbohydrates, vitamin C, and so on. The choices are mind boggling. The general rule is: if it’s good, it’s probably here.

5) We are surrounded by eccentrics, hippies, botanists, and other enthusiasts who are active in food self sufficiency. A uniquely high proportion of the residents in our village are growing food and living simply off-grid. This means we regularly share information, seeds, food, recipes, sob stories, anecdotes, and other resources. If someone discovers some new thing, everyone soon knows about it.

6) The climate is easy on the body. It is mild enough to live without walls. It is not only feasible, but pleasurable to live under a tarp, or even, perhaps, under a thatched roof. This means that a person can devote all their time and money into the land. Shelter needn’t absorb much of one’s energy.

It’s been three years since our first blog on our food experiment. During this time, our livestock has dwindled, and our orchards have both matured and expanded. Karin and Lauren have devoted much of their time and focus to homeschooling Lauren. Much of Scott’s energy was available for expansion of our plantings and completion of our infrastructure.

Livestock

Three years ago, we had  8 Nubian goats on 6 acres of pasture, which supplied us with an abundance of milk, and rarely, meat. Over all, the goats demanded a large portion of our human energy. 3000 feet of fencing needed to be maintained to exclude dogs. The pastures needed frequent “haircuts” to keep the proper balance of delicious plants. The lactating goats needed regular milking and feeding. They needed concentrated food to supplement their grazing diet. For some years, supplements came in the form of organic wheat berries (from the mainland). Eventually, it began to feel absurd to augment our 22 tropical acres with more acres in some mainland wheat field. We chose to harvest Noni fruit, Ti leaves, jackfruit seeds, bananas and other tropical treats to entice our milking goats into the stanchion. This felt more in line with our ideals, but it added time to the frequent chore of milking them.

Three events led to our decision to abandon our small goat dairy:

First, an accidentally introduced gall wasp killed 90% of our Wili Wili trees. We had planted over a thousand of these trees as edible fence posts for our pastures. They were an  indispensable source of high protein fodder for our goats, and for sturdy, rust proof fence posts in our extremely rocky environment.

Second, the goats reached a toxic fodder tree called “gunpowder tree” (Tremis orientalis) and three of our favorites died a painful death.

Third, Lauren reached a time in her life when she was no longer willing to be our milkmaiden. She had done it with great joy for a few years, and had a change of heart. Karin and I chose not to manage this task between the two of us; it felt like “a chore”.

So, sadly, we sold all of our goats.

Later, during a lull in the pig hunting, I decided to introduce tropical hair sheep into the two pastures. They were a cross between St. Croix White and Barbados Black Belly. Sheep are more hardy and less maintenance than goats in the tropics. All of the goat breeds originate in dry or temperate climates, and their reproductive systems are genetically designed to produce excess milk, at the expense of hardiness of the animal. Tropical hair sheep seldom need any assistance during gestation, birth and lactation. In addition, I find lamb to be my favorite type of meat.

Unfortunately, our neighbor’s dogs agreed wholeheartedly with this last part. Our venture into owning sheep involved more conversations with the Humane Society, the Police, and the County Courthouse than suited us. It all ended after fifteen months, with 5 sheep dead or mauled, two dogs shot by me, and our neighbors were fined $430 (we received $180 of this amount). The worst part of it was lying in bed all cozy and sleepy, and then hearing a noise which might be a dog and jumping up in my undies and slippers and a gun and running/stumbling off to the pasture. After a few dozen false alarms and a couple of live encounters, my desire to be a sheep rancher left me.

So now we have two empty pastures.

Since then, we have planted a variety of trees along the borders of our pastures as living fence posts and fodder producers with the possibility that we will change our minds. Couldn’t hurt. Meanwhile, we are buying raw milk from a local organic farm with four cows.

In the past few years, we have done much studying online, and planted a whole lot of new perennials in the ground:

We expanded our Cacao orchard from six trees to twenty six. We planted Lilikoi vines on every one of our giant Rainbow Eucalyptus trees. We purchased and planted, without tasting them, nine new-to-us varieties of shrubs in an area we fondly call “berry alley”. We planted over a dozen varieties of useful or edible palms. We finally got connected with a few Cashew trees and planted several dozen Pili nut seeds. We found a thornless variety of Chaya, our favorite perennial green. We sought and found Cupuasu, a close relative of Cacao. We planted another hundred banana plants, and five new types. We planted over two hundred malingensis bamboo as a living pasture fence. We increased our Durian planting by eight trees. We planted dozens of Malabar chestnut, and a few trees of a close relative. We found and planted a delicious Mountain apple. And, finally, a few more Cinnamon, Brazil cherries, Tangerines, Marang, Surinam cherry, and Mulberry bushes.

To me the most exciting examples: we acquired Pili nut trees, Assai palms, and a seedling of Mayan breadnut.

Karin is studying and experimenting with our pond in her efforts to create a system which resembles a natural aquatic environment. We are hoping to be able to harvest Tilapia eventually. We are owners of eight beehives, and plan to replace them with top bar hives in the near future. Karin has also been studying the medicinal uses of many plants.

All that said, our family food self sufficiency hasn’t improved much. To a large extent, Karin and Lauren have been so absorbed with Lauren’s schooling, that they haven’t had the extra energy to devote/divert to eating off the land. Lauren has maintained an annual garden for a few years now, supplying us with collard greens, peppers, eggplants, chives, and basil.

The traditional family garden in the tropics is an oddity to me. At times it is intense to see so much productivity occurring in such a concentrated space. The annual garden can be quite a resource. Unfortunately, most mainlanders put so much energy into growing traditional annual plants which are unhappy in this climate and soil. The majority of temperate zone garden plants are not worth the struggle here. However, there are a handful of temperate zone plants which will grow quite nicely in Hawaii, and if you know which is which, a garden can be a lovely supplement. I am not much of a gardener. I have a fair amount of knowledge of what grows well and what doesn’t, just from seeing so many attempts, some impressive, and some pathetic. To me, traditional gardens are too fussy and too ephemeral. You devote all this time and energy into a plant, and before you know it, it dies of old age and you need to plant another generation. I can’t be bothered. I’m happy to eat the stuff, though.

In the tropics, it is very important to allow the perennial greens to occupy their place in your diet. I am referring to Chaya, Edible hibiscus, Sweet potato greens, Shisoo spinach, Katuk, Okinawa spinach, Chayote, green Papaya, heart of palm, and tropical pole beans (like wing bean). In addition, for carbohydrates: Taro, Sweet potato, Tropical pumpkin, Breadfruit, Breadnut, Malabar chestnut, bananas and plantains, Cassava, Jicama, Yacon, Pigeon pea, and Yams. The truth is that tropical perennials are all you need for excellent health. The “garden” is optional.

PAY ATTENTION TO THIS: The biggest key to success in self sufficiency is to learn to eat what grows well in your micro-climate. Develop new eating habits. Don’t worry about learning fancy techniques. The perennials listed above are easy to grow in the humid tropics. They are nutritious and delicious. They are not what we are used to. On our farm, we have all the plants and skills we need to be well fed. That part has been easy.

We use phrases like “comfort food”, “convenient food”, “entertainment food” to describe what keeps us going to the health food store. My emphasis on abundant variety is not essential for good nutrition; it’s about pleasure. The keystone of our experiment at Evening Rain Farm is not to find a way to simply survive. It is to find whether a sustainable lifestyle can be more pleasurable and fulfilling than a standard American lifestyle. So far, the answer has been “yes”.

My best guesstimate on our family food self sufficiency is Scott eats 90%, and Karin and Lauren eat less than 20% from the farm and neighborhood farms. This summer, Lauren’s homeschooling ends, and she goes off to Simon’s Rock college in Massachusetts. Karin intends to refocus on the farm at this juncture.

Scott’s diet

This year, my diet consists mostly of coconut water for breakfast, fruit during the day, and eggs, steamed greens, and some tropical starch for dinner.

The coconuts: Many folks have coconut trees which they don’t harvest, and they are more than happy to have someone come by and load piles of coconuts up and take them away. Every two months or so, I drive a pickup truck to Rodrigo’s house and spend an hour with my friend Geoff throwing three hundred mature coconuts into the truck. When I get them home, I open about 5 per day, drink the sweet, oily water inside, and leave the meat out for the chickens to eat. When the chickens are done with the coconuts, I throw the husks in piles around our banana plants.

Fruit: When I feel hungry, I wander under whatever tree is making fruit right now, with a picking pole or ladder, if necessary. I pick and eat while either sitting in the branches, upon the ladder, or under the tree until I am quite full. I repeat as often as necessary during the day. Some fruits are so large that they require a group effort to finish off even one. Jackfruit, for example, are frequently over sixty pounds. There are many other tropical fruits which commonly weigh between two and eight pounds. This past week, I have been frequenting the Brazillian cherry trees. I have also been eating Rollinia, Chempedak, bananas, and Papayas.

Eggs: Our chickens produce plenty eggs for about half the year. During egg season, we are content to receive about half an egg per day per hen. This means that with around twenty five layers, we harvest a dozen eggs each day. I eat five eggs every night. Karin likes to amuse our friends by mentioning that I have often eaten ten or more eggs in a day. Actually, the most I have eaten in one day is nineteen; in a week, sixty three. My rule for this is that each egg must be eaten from a place of desire. When we had abundant goat milk, I drank an average of over three quarts per day over the course of three years. If a favorite fruit tree is producing, I will often eat many pounds of that fruit per day. Whatever is in abundance.

By the way, the only food that we provide for our flock of twenty five hens is five mature coconuts, and between zero and ten bananas per day, depending on our supply. The rest of the day, they eat plants and various little critters. They usually find their own places to roost and lay eggs, and they replenish the flock with little assistance from us. Our main duty is regularly trapping or shooting the clever mongooses.

Greens: Tonight, I walked to a Chaya bush, pulled ten leaves, and put them in a pot with an inch of water. It’s like steaming the top leaves, and boiling the lower ones. Then I pour the water into my dinner bowl. If I am frying my eggs, I pour the vegetable water into the skillet after frying, then into my dinner, in order not to waste the oil used in frying.

Starch: I prefer Taro to all other starches, but I’ll take what comes my way. Breadfruit is easier, as it hangs abundantly from the tree 9 months of the year. Imagine: you plant a breadfruit tree, wait five years, and then this tree produces hundreds of pounds of tasty potato-like fruits every year for the next fifty years. How can one even compare this to fifty years of planting, watering, fertilizing, weeding, and harvesting potatoes, or wheat? Anyway, this week I was raking up a new trail, and some Cassava roots caught on my rake. So I eat Cassava for the week.

In case you are curious, the main foods I buy at the store are: butter, peanut butter, cheese, coconut oil, and chocolate. Definitely an oil theme here. Always organic. My monthly food bill is about sixty dollars. This month I spent forty dollars on four pounds of cheese. Yum.

Scott with Wild pig

Wild pig: Last year, my primary food was pork. Every dinner was wild pig. It was very flavorful. The hunt was always an intense primal experience. And then dragging it home and butchering. I loved the feeling of harvesting feral animals from the woods. I felt very connected by my diet to the jungle that surrounds us. Earlier this year, though, I have opened up some animals and found unhealthy bodies. I noticed on some that the livers looked bad, and I found lots of worms in the last two pigs. It was unnerving and discouraging to see living, moving parasites in the body cavity and even within the muscle tissue (and crawling on my gloved hands!) It didn’t make sense to me that these wild animals would be so unhealthy. Perhaps the pigs are eating too many toxic papayas from the commercial papaya farms nearby. The commercial papaya farms use all sorts of chemical pesticides. I don’t know. All I know is that I am not eating pig right now.

So, there it is. Please respond and tell me what else you want to hear about.

A few notes on chickens

Q: Will the commercial ‘factory farm’ breed of egg layers fare well in a free range environment?

A: The White Leghorns:  I did a brief bit of research on them several years ago, and was inspired enough to buy a dozen day-old chicks for our free range flock. They are good layers, industrious, good foragers, and did quite well in a totally free range environment (sleeping in trees, foraging for themselves, etc.). I was surprised, and impressed that the ‘factory’ hens did so well. They’ve been part of our flock for at least 4 years, and we still have a few left, as well as some crosses. Over the years, though, we have phased them out in favor of Reds, Barred Rock, Brown Leghorn, and Red Breasted Kraienkoppe. The white leghorns problems? their feathers aren’t so durable, they tend to get some sort of prolapse, they aren’t as good mothers, and they look dirty.

Q: Do barred rocks make good mothers?

A: We have 3 barred rocks in our flock, and we like them. They are friendly and trusting, yet they seem to lay plenty of eggs and they complete the cycle of laying, setting, and then raising the chicks. They make formidable mothers (in terms of protecting their chicks from mongoose).

Lauren(stepdaughter) and Karin(wife) are the ones who keep track of who is who in terms of setting and mothering behavior. (Incidentally, Lauren knows them all individually, and can remember who is missing, who has been sick, their ages, and much of each of their histories)

You see, we replenish our flock sort of naturally, by letting the hens decide when they want to start sitting and make a batch of their chicks. We do interfere when a bad mother tries to set. Bad mothering takes several forms. The most common is that the hen loses interest and forgets about her clutch of eggs in the middle of ‘gestation’. Occasionally a bad mother will fail to leave the nest when the chicks are hatched, and they all starve in the nest. Or they choose a lousy place for a nest, in terms of mongoose safety. And so on. Anyway, our barred rocks are good mothers. All the breeds we like have the potential of being good mothers, but it is also an individual thing.

We like the barred rocks so much that we have a barred rock rooster for one of our flocks. The other rooster is a brown leghorn crossed with a red of some sort. There are two kinds of reds: Production reds, and rhode island reds. I cannot remember which is what or ID them properly.

Maybe someone else can speak about the two kinds of reds? we have several and we like them, whichever they are.

Q: How do araucanas compare with the reds and rocks?

A: People say that the araucanas are very fine chickens. We’ve had them in the past, and liked them, and I’d like to have some again.

Q: What breed rooster would be good for my 5 nearly two-year-old barred rocks and why?

A: In terms of roosters, keep in mind that he will contribute half of the genetics of all future hens under his domain. Genetically, we are happy with several varieties. Reds, barred rocks, red kraienkoppes, (and araucanas if we had them).

There are definitely good and bad personalities for roosters, and I haven’t pinned it down by breed. But some roosters are mean and selfish, and some are chivalrous. Chivalrous means they watch out for danger, give extra scraps to their hens, break up fights, act nice to all the hens, and find good nests. Bad roosters beat up hens they don’t like, attack people, and steal and hog food from their hens. Not surprisingly, we often have to wait until after the rooster is past his adolescence to see if he will turn out good.

My chicken experience is from a free range flock of about 20-40 birds, over about 10 years.

Start-up costs for this experiment

Q: How much land would a family of four need? Any wildly ranging estimates and/or completely blind guesses would be greatly appreciated.

A: In a lower Puna environment,which is where I live on the Big Island, a family can grow all their own food in a permaculture style orchard  on a 3 acre parcel with no problem. With trees spaced roughly 25-30 feet apart, 2 acres could be home to over 100 fruit and nut trees, leaving an acre for gardens, buildings, and infrastructure for water, electric, and storage and processing. This would be plenty. Reasons to have more land than this in our tropical environment include grazing animals, privacy, multiple families, and the space necessary to earn one’s living. For example, if you want to sell vegetables, goat milk, or timber, you will need a corresponding acreage.

In your neck of the woods, ranchers often measure land in terms of “sections” instead of acres. I believe a “section” is 640 acres. I say this to emphasize that the productivity of desert land is astronomically lower than here in the wet tropics. I have little idea how much land would be necessary to produce a reliable supply of food for a family. In many dry southwest environments, grazing animals are the only sustainable food option. I have little experience with greenhouses, but one might be needed. Facilities for food storage (cold cellar, food dehydrator, solar electric freezer) are probably essential. The dwelling needs to buffer inhabitants against a wide range of temperatures. My wife lived in Taos, and built an earthship there. Seems to me to be the best way to build a house in a high desert. You might need to account for access to a sustainable source of biomass for heating and cooking. Water collection and storage is an issue. In addition, your plants will need protection from native plant eaters, and your animals similarly from native animal eaters.

Q: What would someone wanting to do this in YOUR area be looking at in terms of cost and time.

A: In terms of expense of our project, it depends hugely on what you perceive as needs versus luxuries. You must begin with challenging what is really necessary. If I try to recreate the lifestyle that I grew up with, I will never succeed in meaningful progress into sustainability.

An example from European history: Early explorers to the North Pole were discovered frozen in the snow alongside heavy piles of silver dinnerware. Even in their last days, wandering cold and hungry in the tundra, they could not free themselves of the social convention of a meal with fine silver. In our family, we are often probing into our lifestyles with the purpose of freeing ourselves of imaginary “needs”. Some of the recent issues have been our motor vehicle, “comfort food”, and propane. Our journey towards this freedom is ongoing.

That said, we spent about $90k on the land, and maybe double that amount for infrastructure. In terms of time, it took three months and a few thousand dollars to be able to move in and be happily living on our land. It was more like camping then, but, hey, we still live under a tarp. We are ten years into it, and the project is still expanding, and lots more to do.

My response to an unhappy mainlander

Q: I was thinking about you guys again, as my life becomes so unpleasant here, as I contemplate whether I could ever actually live a simple sustainable life, as you all do.

A: Firstly, I’m sorry you are unhappy with your life. I, too, spent over ten years feeling sad, scared, hopeless, and disconnected with my mainland life. At times I felt (and indeed feel) like I was standing helpless on the sidelines just waiting for my civilization to collapse.

Q: I have young children, and that is the biggest reason I question whether I could live your lifestyle.  My main concerns would be providing a good education, health care, and access to friends for them to play with.  I perceive your area as being quite remote, perhaps without access to these types of things.  How is it going for you in these areas with your kids?

A: In terms of your concerns regarding children, the availability of friends and school varies quite a bit by specific location. Despite being 2 miles down a bumpy dirt road, we happen to be next door to a charter school with about 30 kids K through 6. This area (Puna) feels like country, but the actual population density is much higher than many mainland rural areas. With a bit of practice, town is within a reasonable bike ride.

When you are considering your children as a barrier to changing your lifestyle, think about your role as a model for them. Do you want to teach them by example that living miserable and hopeless is what grown-ups do? They will imitate you. Ideally, you would model inspiration, in whatever form this takes. Perhaps, for example, you want your children to grow up surrounded by nature, and watching their parents joyously working out on the farm. If you think that your children’s needs are better met in your current environment, then it might make sense to stay where you are. Please examine this belief and discover who you are before you make a big decision. I live this way because I feel that it is a health giving wholesome lifestyle.

Q: Did the price of land ever come down over there?  You know there has been a big real estate decline the past year or two, but I have no feel for how Hawaiian land may have been impacted.

A: We live about 8 miles from Pahoa town. Many of the lots around here are 3-10 acres. I am not keeping up with local land prices, though I know they are coming back down. We bought our 22 acres in ‘99 for 90k, and it would probably still sell for around 300k. I believe 3 acre parcels sell for 75k, but I the news of the lower prices travels slower than the news of higher prices. I am guessing there might be opportunities for finding ‘emergency sales’ of unoccupied investment properties in the coming months.

Q: If I ever wanted to purchase some acreage, over there, does it take a matter of years to plant and grow the right kind of trees to harvest mangoes and things like that for example?  In other words, might it be a good idea to buy some land early on, and maybe go over and plant some trees, and then plan on coming back and living there a few years (or many years) later when the trees have matured?  Or maybe even lease the land to someone who could help grow the trees?  I’m so far removed from that type of lifestyle, here in my typical suburban community that I really have no clue on these matters, which is why I ask.  It sounds like real jungle over there – like it must take a lot of work to avoid having the land overgrown with unwanted vegetation – is that right?

A: It is wise to plant the woody perennials as soon as possible, since many do take 5 or 10 years to mature. The unique soil and climate here is very conducive to a multi story agroforestry (tree crops). In this area, traditional farming with plants in rows and plowing is a waste of resources. We have been developing our land for almost ten years, and less than half of the trees are bearing fruit. Of course, we didn’t plant all the trees in the first year; It has taken us years to prep the land, acquire the planting material, and get the plantable little fellas into the ground. In some cases, we purchased seeds or cuttings, and spent years propagating them until we had hundreds, then planted out a large area. Some plants were put in the ground in ‘99, matured, fruited, made seeds, and we decided we liked them enough to plant those seeds. It has ben an ongoing process of learning and farming, researching, asking questions, visiting other farms, until now we have over one thousand perennial plants (including trees, bamboos, bananas, palms) each of them bringing their own usefulness to the farm, in terms of food, fodder, medicine, building materials, windbreak, shade, and so on.

Many people manage their orchards by preparing the land with bulldozers, and then maintaining by mowing. We have done some of this, but we are trying to suppress weeds by planting various understory plants and groundcovers under the canopy trees. It is a reasonable proposition to develop and plant the land with your orchards, and then hire someone to keep the vegetation down. Many mainlanders come for 2 or 3 months at a time to do just that. In the tropics, the trees grow and mature much faster than temperate trees, but it still feels like a long wait. Many palms, bamboos, and food bearing trees at our farm are over 60 feet tall in only 9 years, but much of the land is still far from mature.

Q: I dream about living your lifestyle.  I certainly admire what you’re doing – you guys are inspirational and frankly good role models from what I can glean from your web site.

Every day when I toss a yogurt container or some plastic thing in the trash a half dozen times a day or drive my car 50 miles round trip to work, I realize that I am just as much a part of the problem as anyone else in terms of destroying our planet.  It’s such an awful socioeconomic system in terms of feeling like it’s impossible to extricate myself and family from this system – it’s like once you’re in it, there’s no escape.

How did you escape the system?  Did you just one day buy the property, go live on it, and that was it, or was the transition more gradual somehow?

A: After 9 years, I am harvesting about 90% of my food.  This includes hunting wild pig on and around the land. I eat pig almost every dinner. The rest of the day I eat mostly fruit. My monthly food bill is about $40(cheese, olive oil, salt). My wife and daughter harvest about 20-30% of their food,(mostly squash, greens, and some fruit) and buy the rest at the health food store.

After some experimentation and months of careful record keeping, my wife and I have discovered that we can be comfortable on $300 per month per person. This includes everything from land taxes, car insurance, and clothing etc. We could get by on $200 each if we got rid of the truck and focused more on our food budget. Over the past two years, we have almost entirely divested ourselves of money wealth, and invested in useful objects (tools, farm supplies, spare parts, household items, fruit trees) which could satisfy our basic needs. We have invested in our farm as a business which will support us, instead of investing in the businesses of other faceless people in the form of stocks, funds, and other sorts of money accounts.

It is possible to jump into this situation suddenly and begin living on the cheap ASAP. I actually began living on this land much more primitively at first, and “luxuries” such as pressurized water, telephone, and electricity came later. Living sustainably can mean many different things. A friend of mine spent a year living on the coast with nothing but a machete and his clothes, eating coconuts, seaweed and shellfish. I still drive at least once per month these days, and on the drive home, the truck is usually filled with some sort of modern day artifacts, like a mattress, plumbing fittings, printer cartridges, or chainsaw fuel, to name but a few. I would argue with the term ’sustainable’. I could accept that word with a conditioner attached, such as ‘moving towards’, ‘practicing’, ‘baby steps’, or ‘devising alternatives’. Despite the urgency of our global situation, I support a gentle approach, because my personal psyche will always be an influential part of the ecology of my home place, and I support a healthy ecology.

Q: One other question – I’ve heard that native Hawaiians discriminate against caucasians – they feel that Hawaii is for native Hawaiians and they don’t want caucasians coming there.  I’ve only been to Maui, and have not seen that, but I’ve heard about it all my life, so I imagine there must be some truth to it.  I have no idea if you all or caucasian, Hawaiian or whatever, but just wondering your thoughts on this question.

A: There are Hawaiians who feel rage at the current american settlers. Just a bit over 100 years ago, the US conquered Hawaii by military force. I imagine I would not find this easy to forget, or even to accept. Being conquered, occupied, and disenfranchised is no small matter. That said, I am surprised at the level of acceptance I feel from local people. On top of that, locals recognize that I am relearning how to live the old ways, with simplicity and reverence.

It is a deep trap to get stuck in your habit and remain disconnected from your inspiration. Steven Covey says, ‘the good is the enemy of the great’. You could remain stuck in your current living situation for the rest of your days, or you could leave tomorrow. Try reading ‘Culture of Make Believe’ by Derrick Jensen ‘, ‘Ishmael’ by Daniel Quinn, and ‘The end of America’ by Naomi Wolf. Then, once you connect with this worldview, read “Your Money or Your Life”. If you read these books with an open heart and mind, you will be able to discover whether this lifestyle is right for you. There are many right ways to live. I recommend you find yours by moving towards the beautiful, rather than fleeing or fighting what is ugly.

I hope these answers get you pointed in your right direction.

Scott

A sweet life

We live in an unusual tropical environment (near Kapoho, on the Big Island of hawaii) where growing our own food is enjoyable.

Sustainable food production is different in Hawaii than in most of the mainland United States. In many parts of the world, growing all of one’s food without the use of machinery for farming or processing requires a large input of human labor. Personally, I find it hard to imagine trying to support myself by growing wheat or rice, for example, using my own physical labor. I would if I had to, but I cannot see myself cultivating annual grains just for the love of it.

However, in Hawaii, a family can create a sustainable subsistence farm and provide all of their own food without suffering or undue hardship. In this environment, growing all your own food is actually easy and fun.

I’ll give you six reasons:

1. We have a 12 month growing season. This means that all year round, fresh food is available without any need for food preservation or storage. There is no dormant season, and no particular harvest season. The harvest is spread out over the year. No canning, no refrigeration, no grain silos necessary.
2. In Hawaii, there is a large variety of high quality food plants available for cultivation. The reason is that over the past century, plant collectors have been importing the most interesting and useful plant varieties from every continent over the world. Over a hundred varieties of fruits, greens, nuts, carbohydrates, medicines, herbs, spices, and more, are available for us to cultivate here on our farm. This means that not only one’s vegetables, but staple foods, flavorings, beverages… the whole diet can be grown on the land. I cannot express in words the delicious taste experiences I have access to here on our farm.
3. We have relatively few pests. No deer, squirrels, rabbits, nor gophers. No poisonous snakes. No poisonous insects. We do have fruit flies, and some other insects, as well as birds, mice, wild pigs, and rats, but on our homestead, damage from pests is no big deal. Especially in tropical areas around the world, pests can be a big problem. Here on isolated Hawaii, we reap the benefits of the tropical climate without having to battle an abundance of other creatures for the bounty.
4. Many of the useful and edible plants here are tree crops. This means that one can grow one’s entire diet without tilling the soil ever. No plowing, no tractors, no saving nor sowing seeds, no bending over pulling tiny weeds. Once the orchards are planted, the trees need to be maintained, but the effort is less each year, and the detrimental effect on the soil structure is averted. When I plant a single breadfruit tree, for example, I can expect to harvest hundreds of pounds of staple foods every year for the next 50 years. Compare this to the work involved in replanting grains or tubers year after year.
5. There is no dry season. This reduces, and sometimes eliminates, the need for irrigation.
6. There is an abundance of other kindred spirits on the islands. It is a pleasure to have the support and friendship of other sustainable farmers in our area.

As an added bonus, the temperature never goes below sixty degrees. This means you can get by without walls, or even windows for that matter (a roof is definitely a plus, though). There is no need to chop wood for winter heating or fill your furnace with fossil fuel.

I’m telling you, I am no martyr. I consider myself a very lucky guy, living a sweet life. Don’t get me wrong; it’s physical work, but in healthful proportion. I highly recommend it.

My new mission statement

I was talking with my wife, Karin the other day about how I feel about our farm and the world situation, and she said,”We need to revise our mission statement. We’re not telling the truth about why we’re doing this project”.

I’ll tell you: I used to have lots of idealistic energy about teaching people how to live more sustainably, and creating a model of a farming lifestyle which is enjoyable. In the past, I have told people that our permaculture project is an experiment. I would have considered myself successful in my purpose if a hundred people emulated the way of life at our Farm.

In many ways, I think it’s too late for that.

I still have some of that energy, but less. If someone wants to learn, I am willing to share, but I am not shouting from atop my soapbox. I am finished being an advocate. I am going to take care of myself and my family.

Years ago, a common phrase in my mind in response to global problems was,”We just need to get together and take action”. Now, my more common response is, “It’ll all be over soon”.

To a large extent, I am trying to put myself in a situation in which I can avoid or minimize the negative effects of the current global collapse. I am trying to save my ass. I’m not so concerned about creating an experimental model. So there it is. My new mission statement is that I want to live a long and healthy life full of awareness and growth, and everyone else can go screw themselves.

I’m more cynical about education. For the most part, people don’t want to know how to grow their own food. There is something going on. When I talk to people, there seems to be a gap.

For example, many interns who stay on our farm seem to have a clear understanding of the global crisis currently unfolding, yet they almost without exception return to their previous lives without missing a beat. When I say farewell to an intern who has become my friend, and witness them resuming their regular life, I feel like screaming. It is reminiscent of saying goodbye to a friend on the sidewalk, and watching him waving and looking back at me as he steps off the sidewalk, oblivious, into a street full of rushing cars and trucks.

The words paralysis, numbness, denial, addiction come to mind. There seems to be an affliction which prevents people from fully inhabiting themselves, and living with all four tires on the road. Perhaps people are not fully making contact with life, the body not really living on the earth. It reminds me of my own experience of watching suspenseful movies:  I seem fully engrossed, but my body isn’t moving during the show, and when it’s over, I simply get up, have a snack, talk about something, and yawn and curl up to sleep.

I feel shock, and grief about this. People don’t seem to care whether they live or not. Even people who speak as though catastrophe is imminent don’t put their action in alignment with their apparent thoughts. I suppose the disease runs deep. I have forgotten how to feel grief, rage, fear, confusion, hopelessness, just to name a few. Instead, I generate disappointment, annoyance, stress, judgementalism, anal precision etc. as a substitute. The tendency is to generate states of being that dissipate and waste energy, and destroy focus and purposeful inspiration.

Often, I will seek out a vicarious or cathartic substitute. I will generate these events outside myself. That way I can witness from nearby the feelings that I cannot directly experience. So, I am not acting upon my unsettled feeling about the current world condition, but I watched the movie. I don’t practice yoga (or political action, or farming etc.) but I own several books about it. I often feel disconnected from my self.

Perhaps people feel attracted to disaster because it acts as a substitute for having one’s own feelings. People want something really bad to happen, because they hope deep down inside that maybe it will make them feel something. Or maybe I know that if I witness some chaotic event or some act of violence and talk about it enough that it will be very similar to having a present feeling.

Likewise, maybe if I am disappointed and annoyed in my friends and coworkers all day long, that at the end of the day wouldn’t that be a good substitute for a full strength experience of rage and grief? Rage and grief at god, the earth, my alienation, at all sorts of things that hurt and don’t make sense?

I am beginning to see how deep the source of the problem runs within each individual psyche. I see how long the journey to health is within myself, and I realize that it really is too late. And then, at the next moment, I walk my happy little life and forget about it.

The Hunt

Scott with wild pig

Just the other day, we got two young female ducks from a friend, and one of them flew off and got lost in a real thick part of the woods east of our land. I felt sad about her plight, and went out calling and quacking after her. I was practically swimming in an ocean of vines and logs and brush for an hour or so. She must have froze with panic in this strange and foreign environment, because I was unable to get any sign of her. I gave up and began work on our house, when suddenly I heard her call. I rushed back, but she clammed up when she heard me coming. I waited for a time in the warm sun on a high log, to see if she might forget I was there and start calling again for her friend. I felt a connection to her fear and helplessness. I really wanted to rescue her and get her into our pond with her duck friends. I eventually gave up, though, and resumed my construction project.

Then I heard the sound of wild pigs arguing in the woods south of our place, and grabbed my rifle and headed out. For me, wild pigs are food. Over a few fences and along a major pig trail, I pretty quickly came within sight of them. At first just shivering bushes and branches. Gradually their numbers became apparent through the underbrush in the woods. Several, no, many, and most of them big ones. Maybe five adults, and two junior style oinklets. They were lumbering. It is often hard for me to determine the sizes of pigs in the woods. But some of these looked big.

I began to stalk.

The alpha male snorted and charged at a somewhat smaller rival. The rival fled, thought better, and challenged another more his own size. Two much younger ones followed their mother. Some others were milling about, rooting for grubs, wagging their tails, meandering across the forest as they foraged. They were quite unaware of me. I realized that I was stalking a family. I wondered, which member of their family will be missing tonight?

My heart was pounding. In fact, I could feel my whole self was pounding. Some of the larger males continued fighting back and forth, while making their grunting shrieks. It was hard to see who was doing what, exactly. Still pounding. I spent quite a while holding still, afraid they would see me and run away, or worse, run toward me. I have heard stories of hunters getting gored by their tusks.

For some time, I stood, my consciousness intensified, in a dreamy state, stunned at the awareness of me, crouching here, the hunter, and this herd, this family, the hunted.

Slowly, crawling closer to the herd, I tried to time my movements with their fights and snorts, to conceal my stick crackling steps. I want to get closer for a good shot, but I really don’t want to get closer. When I get close to big pigs, I often realize that much of me wants to flee these big black toothy hairy beasts. I keep making sure that I’m behind a tree for cover, and also to scramble up if things get scary. I sat there, behind a Hala tree, aiming for a long time. Aiming and aiming and waiting and waiting. Heart pounding, amazed at what I am doing, about to do. I keep aiming through the underbrush at these black creatures, waiting for a certain hit, following them with my sights, until at some moment, my finger knows to pull the trigger.

My eyes, my hands, my finger, my pounding heart must have been aiming at the biggest one. He lay down and screamed and screamed, like he was real mad and scared, but didn’t move. The other 5 or 6 or 7 pigs bolted, paused to look, and bolted again in various directions. As I approached, I shot him twice more in the head, remembering the shooters admonition, “anything worth shooting once is worth shooting twice” (It turns out the first shot went through the lung and spine) Once the others had disappeared, I walked up to him,(he was still convulsing) and thought, oh, goodness, he is much, much bigger than I am. With his black bristly hair, huge head, and bloody tusks, even dead he looked dangerous. I felt dwarfed, tiny, no match for this warrior.

Once he stopped spasming and sighed into death, I made to drag him home. I grabbed his “ankles” with both hands and gave a heave and he slid about a foot. The reality of his size just sunk in; this would be a long drag home. By the time I had hauled him 20 feet, my chest was heaving, and the ground was all scraped up from my slipping sliding feet. He is way too heavy. I sized him up again; he looked wide and long. I felt in my pocket to find a small, much too small, folding pocket knife. I looked around at the clouds of mosquitos all around us; then back at the pig. There’s no two ways about it, I’m going to have to dig in and reduce the weight.

A few minutes later I was elbow deep in blood and heart and hot intestines, kneeling on the carcass to keep it belly up. Down past the kidneys, slicing away all around the colon. Carefully feeling, cutting, feeling all around the diaphragm muscle below the lungs. Loosening the organs into one big slippery, hot mass. Tugging at the colon from the inside until it let go. Reaching up and slicing through the trachea and esophagus from the inside, until finally I could scoop this jumbo size, slimy snake of viscera out of his big body cavity and onto the ground. I stood up, smeared the warm blood from my hands and forearms onto my shirt and pants, and sized up the situation. Okay, I lightened my load by about 40 pounds of excess baggage. I Put my rifle over my shoulders, and gave another heave ho. Geez, it feels just as heavy. I’m guessing well over two hundred pounds at this point. I thought, if I leave him here, will some pigs come back and eat him? I just accepted my situation and dragged at the pace I was able. At a rate of about 2 to 3 feet per pull, I got the boar over rocks, roots, logs, branches and a small crevice, and into a clearing behind my neighbor’s land and walked home to get a cart.

After a skinning and butchering session with my friend Ian, the meat is now soaking in ocean water brine in our fridge. Next week, we’ll stuff most of it through our manual meat grinder, bag up the rest, and then into the freezer. Then, feast for three months and repeat.

By the way, the next morning the lost duck was in our pond, frolicking with the others.