Thursday, March 7, 2013

Thursday, March 7th .....

After a very pleasant few days in the free park, we're back at the Rotary Pavilion.  We've been watching the progress of the onion crop in the paddock next door for two or three months now.  They're now lying on the ground waiting for the harvesters to arrive to collect them.  Apparently, they take several weeks to 'cure' so they're just left there unsupervised.  I suppose there are so many, no one would begrudge a few being picked up by a passing scavenger.

Now the crop has been dug up, we don't see much of the farmer so we were surprised today when a truck pulled up, a fellow got out and started to put onions into a bag.  When he was leaving, I gave him a wave, as you do, and he swung his truck around and drove over towards the caravan.

Oh good, I thought, he's going to give me some onions.  But no, he wanted to talk to me about our caravan.  He has one on order and wanted to get my advice on things.  He was very impressed with out recliner chairs and was surprised his dealer hadn't offered them as an option.

I did manage to get a bit of information about the state of onion-growing in Tasmania.  You never know when that sort of information will come in handy.  This fellow, whose name is John, works for Websters, a rather large agricultural firm, in Research and Development.  He was taking samples of the onions for testing.

This paddock is only one of many they have in Tassie, 150 Ha in all.  Our paddock is only about 8Ha, so it provides just a drop in an ocean of onions.  The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.  When all the onions are gathered, they are sorted into various sizes and stored until an order is received.  Most of them go to Europe, as far north as Norway.

John said they can grow any size they want by simply adjusting the distance between the hole where seeds are planted, closer if you want small onions, further apart for big ones.  Very scientific!  They plant them with a seed drill, invented by Jethro Tull (not the band!)

When we were fed up talking, he went off in his truck and left me standing there, onion-less.
 

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