Dairy farm, calf feeding in Taupo

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August 8th-14th.

Some people love cows, I mean really, really love them. Hindus venerate cows as gods. As a child I used to enjoy many hours in our bottom field trying to get Arthur's herd (our neighbouring farmer) to talk to me. Sadly, my persistence was futile, Daisy and co. never saw fit to pass the time of day or tell me stories as I hoped they might but all the same, I felt I was among friends. I do also recall coaxing one more bold beast to lick my hand only to be thoroughly disturbed by how rough its tongue was, turns out they were used a hair brushes in past time, however despite the infinite tattiness of my hair, I have never been tempted to try this!

Some years later, well about 32 but whose counting... whilst on the first road trip discovering New Zealand Drew floated the idea of us working on a dairy farm. Now given that I have professed my earlier fascination with these four legged higher beings, it is perhaps surprising that this was not my priority stop on our North Island itinerary, however in the spirit of learning and volunteering to earn a bed and crust, I suddenly felt quite excited at the thought of discovering what life would be like to be responsible for a whole herd of heifers.

It turns out the first farm I called from the list we had purchased before traveling of host farmers, were not only keen to have us but as it was just at the point when calving time was ramping up, they could welcome us within a week! The Hart dairy farm near Taupo, located in a stunning area in central North Island is over 660ha large and home to more than 1400 cattle. Our timing also turned out to be fortuitous or fateful, I'm still not quite sure which as we arrived on the farm the day after a huge financial bomb was dropped on dairy farming in New Zealand, milk prices were falling to a crippling low and forecasts suggested many farms would not survive the slump.

Despite the background of doom, our hosts welcomed us with the usual exchange of pleasantries and polite enquiries as to from whence we hailed. What was less usual was the farmer asking me from what part of Northumberland I was from, despite my only referencing Newcastle as my birth place. Bizarrely, it transpired that he had spent time in Humshaugh, being a good friend of Kevin Whatley of Auf Weidersen Pet and Morse fame! We were then regaled with anecdotes of their respective visits, including photos of holidays spent together... surreal! What we didn't appreciate then was that surreal moments would be plentiful during our stay. No sooner had we finished our arrival soup lunch, we were kitted our in oil skins and boots and packed off into the pickup, it was afternoon calf feeding time.

Now I would just note here, I like to think I have a strong stomach and keen sense of smell, which, as it transpires, the former is essential on a dairy farm... the latter, a curse! Having been informed that we must head to the milk shed to collect enough collostrum for the latest calves, we alighted from the pickup truck with the grace of Michelin men riddled with gout, hindered by our multi-layered waterproof attire. Once inside the milking shed, seeing the rotary milking system for the herd, it was then I understood the necessity of non-absorbent clothing and for the farm hands monitoring the pumps, the more specific need for face and head cover. For those manning the milking pumps at udder level, you are placed right in the line of fire for heifer incontinence... without prior warning!

Although we were not charged with working with adult cows, our daily visits to collect milk for the calves at the milking shed gave us some insight into life as a dairy farm hand. The majority of staff on the farm were Filipino, which as we learned was quite common on farms in New Zealand, where Filipino workers are reputed as reliable, serious grafters. Many of them did not speak English so we would wave and smile but generally communication was limited as whenever we saw them, they tended to be involved in precarious tasks involving cow whispering. Well, actually it was more like cow shouting but instead of words, a succession of yawing and whistling. Whatever the sounds meant, they did the trick as the cows appeared to respond, although their expressions never changed. Cows are a bit like seals, they always strike me as morose, which to be fair being milked in that fashion twice daily and being parted from your calf at birth is going to put a certain crappy slant on things.

Anyway, on to the calves. We brought buckets with the colostrum from cows that are treated with antibiotics so that the calves are fortified against infection. If rotavirus for example, takes hold, it could potentially wipe out a whole year's new stock. As we pulled up alongside the large calf shed, I could already hear a multitude of moos and within an instant I was wobbly with adoration for all the little faces that looked at us with great expectation. Drew and I had just become mummies to over 60 little calves! With that we were straight in at the deep end, being barked at to carry in buckets to feeders that hung from gates inside the shed. In each section divided up between the earliest to oldest calves, the feeders were equipped with multiple teats for the myriad of hungry mouths. However, for those freshly born in the fields that day, we were required to bottle feed. These new arrivals must be taught to use the teat, essential for their survival.

Bottle feeding calves is an incredible experience. I soon realised that as with people, every calf has it's own personality. Many would take to the bottle immediately and so could be promoted to the next feeding section. Moving calves also has its own strategies, the keen feeders will actually attach themselves to your finger on the mistaken assumption that your finger is a teat. Others, often the weaker, small calves, needed to be coaxed and repeatedly given the bottle in all directions from straddling the calf, sticking the teat up its nose, covering the mouth with milk or doing contortionist lunges to keep up with a resistant reverse as the bottle is once more refused! This challenge was intensified by a neighbouring calf insistently mooing in your ear and all the while being assailed with unidentifiable lurid gunge that seems to find its way from calves' bottoms to your clothes, hands (thank god for gloves) and on one horrendous but hilarious occasion, Drew's face!

You'll be amused to know that I was not spared my own stomach churning episodes. For example one day, having proudly mastered the snake like and heavy milk pump, I hauled it into the senior calf section. Now the older calves by day 4 or so become attuned to the fact that once you enter their domain, milk is not far away. What they are less adept at distinguishing or indeed caring, is where a teat is located. What's more, their instinct to butt upwards which, if feeding from their mother would stimulate the milk, presents a significant threat to the unsuspecting feeder. On more that one occasion Drew's nether regions were the target of these misguided butts. His howls still haunt me now! So as to my own misadventure, when a number of excited and frenzied butting calves attacked at the same moment, I opened up the milk pump and the force and shock caused me to exert too much force on the lever. I was covered from head to toe in colostrum including in my mouth and eyes! Not wanting to seem like a whinge, I turned to the farmer's wife and said as casually as I could, is it possible to be blinded by cow's milk? Her curt response without a flicker of acknowledgement of my ghost like, milk-shrouded appearance... no.

It may have been down to the climate of recession in dairy farming but it did strike us that a sense of humour was surely a primary tool for any farmer, though it sadly seemed to be lacking in our hosts. Drew and I certainly found the work extremely hard and tiring but there was also a huge sense of reward and achievement at the end of each day when all the calves were fed but this was inspite the often sour faces of our task masters. We managed to offset some of the particularly fraught bone chilling early mornings, when donning still wet reeking gloves in semi-darkness, with a snigger at each other. We attempted at times to make light of intense work that often pulled on the heart strings, seeing cows reduced to mere commodity. However, it would be wrong to judge people who bravely undertake a highly unpredictable and energy sapping life farming, too harshly. After all we had the luxury of stepping in and out of the work in a week and like millions of other people, we buy cheap milk everyday. Our hosts were in their 60s and yet were putting in 14/15hr days which required boundless energy in the face of receiving very little financial reward for their efforts.

Drew and I completed our week at the farm with very mixed feelings. We felt that we have learned so much and achieved some personal epiphanies in regard to our physical limits and for me in particular the emotion of witnessing the often short life for some calves destined to become meat products. Understandably it's an industry unpalatable to some but dairy farming is relied upon by masses more. I was definitely glad we had done it and even though there were days I wondered if I could, in the spirit of our trip, we had stepped into the unknown and gained some valuable lessons along the way. As to my feelings about cows, if anything I love and respect them more than ever. As Drew said, it was a miracle that as we drove away from the farm, I managed to resist the urge to pull up at the calf shed and bundle as many of the little mooers into the boot as I could fit!

Some of our lighter moments, Drew's cow jokes:

How do you get a calf to shift?

Ask it to moooove!

What muscle are you most likely to pull on a dairy farm?

A calf!

Did you hear about the cold calf?

It was Friesian!

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Comments

[Fiona]

hellooooo
Hi Sam,Drew, keep sending the blogs there great......look forward to the monthly updates. Hope the hearse is holding up, it is definitely a vehicle of style to be cruising around NZ in. Think I might have struggled with the calf farm and definitely makes you question the milk on your cereal!! Lost your email so getting in touch here about volunteering opportunity popped up that sounds good... too far for me....however as your there. Kiwi ranger Volunteer - Department of Conservation New Zealand - www.doc.gov.nz - [e-mail] - 0064 3 7500183. They are looking volunteers to work on Haast Kiwi while they need 2 from Sept to feb you might be able to have some time with the team???? Just a thought. Keep on having fun down there. Love Fi x