CREAM OF THE CROP
Leaving the city behind Mat and Sue Daubney returned to the family dairy farm in Northcliffe, WA.
“Our dairy isn’t driven by hard production, it’s driven by sustainability, which has been the natural instinct of this family for generations.”
THE STRIP OF BITUMEN leading to the Bannister Downs Dairy near Northcliffe, WA, passes between the feet of giant karri trees before opening to what appears to be typical dairying country. The paddocks, still thick with pasture thanks to the giving South West climate, reveal Holstein Friesian cows clustered beneath peppermint trees. But just a little further along lies something not so usual: a modern dairy complex hunkering on the landscape like a giant metallic crustacean. The differences continue inside. Cows wander up to the shed of their own accord and line up for a turn on a rotating milking platform, massaged by a giant yellow brush as they wait. As each steps up, milking tubes are automatically and gently connected; the machine recognises each unique physiology and adapts accordingly. Sue Daubney points out that most cows are chewing their cud: “That’s a good sign of how relaxed they are,” she says. “I tell my husband Mat that’s typical of all women — they just want to do things in their own time, without being bossed around!” Opening in 2018, The Creamery, a state-of-the-art facility funded in part through investment by mining magnate Gina Rinehart, is the culmination of one family’s dedication to dairying since 1924. Designed by Bosske Architecture, The Creamery features cutting-edge technology including milking robots, but Sue and Mat say that they, along with their four children — Elizabeth, 19, Johnson, who is turning 18 this month, Campbell, 16, and 14–year–old Annalise — are continuing the ethical and traditional approach that has always been practised on the property. “Our dairy isn’t driven by hard production, it’s driven by sustainability, which has been the natural instinct of this family for generations,” Sue explains. “We could probably push our systems and be a lot more productive, but sometimes you are a lot better off in the long run.” In 2005, they began processing and bottling their own milk, packaging it in biodegradable chalk–based pouches with minimal plastic content. They also chose an additive– free processing method where the milk is pasteurised but never heated beyond 68˚C. It takes longer, says Sue, but the payoff is purer, better–tasting milk. Numerous awards and accolades stand as testament. They’re in for a hard slog while the new systems get up and running, but the family benefit from being able to enjoy the region they live in when they need a break. “If we need a day away from farming, we’re only 20 minutes from the beach,” says Mat. “When you live in the country, you have to be able to create your own fun.” Visit bannisterdowns.com.au for more information about the dairy’s products and where to buy them.
SUE I’m a city girl from Perth. I met Mat at a party during the Avon Descent [a two-day whitewater race held on the Avon River in WA] during his final year of study, in 1994. The first time I came down and saw Mat on the farm, after knowing him for a few months, I could see that he was in his comfort zone. He had a completely different demeanor because he was at home. It was just accepted that he would come back to the family farm. I made a gradual transition to the country myself. I had studied nursing and science in Bunbury, and then worked in Bridgetown and Pemberton as a nurse. I played polocrosse, so I was keen on the rural lifestyle. But I’m not the sort of person to worry about what’s happening next week. I’m happy if I’m being productive. I don’t think we’ve ever had a week here where we’ve stood still. Mat is very good at coming up with ideas and it seems to be my job to make them happen. When dairying deregulation happened, we were going backwards. It was a case of “If we want to stay in dairy farming, how are we going to do it?” So we looked at selling our own product. And that was the beginning of a journey we’re still on. When the price wars started, and we had our milk on the shelf next to products that cost $1, we had five per cent growth. That told me that the consumer is intelligent and they can see a long-term picture. It gave us the confidence that we were doing something that was going to work and we could upscale — so long as we didn’t lose our values or what made our product so good. A lot of the changes we just did because they were the right thing to do. We started by setting up automatic feeders for calves. It warms the milk and they can come and go when they want — prior to that they would all be fed two litres at 6am. But that was what suited the farmers. The feeders got us understanding how to back off and let the animals do things as they please. I am sure there are naysayers. For a long time, it’s been about high volume, high production, low returns and general negativity — a lot of the enjoyable benefits of being a farmer have been lost. I wouldn’t have it any other way. When I first met Mat, I was hanging out to go to Perth all the time. We would be heading to the city and I would get frustrated because all he would be talking about was, “When are we coming back?” Now, I just go up and do what I’ve got to do and come straight home. It’s taken a few years, but I’m on the same page now! >
“We are very close to our cows. That’s part of the commitment you make as a dairy farmer, to make sure they are well looked after.”
MAT In five years, we will have been here on this property for 100 years as a farming family. I would have come home when I was 14 if my parents had let me. What I love most is being able to do it with my family. I was just fortunate that Sue was happy to be a part of that. When we embarked on creating our own products and selling them, my family — my uncle and my dad and my mum — backed us 100 per cent. There was a point when things were tough and tight financially, and we were all doing a lot of hours for not a lot of reward. If someone had said, “Look, I told you this was stupid and it would never work,” it probably would have been enough to make the whole thing unravel. My parents, Robert and Alison, are still very active in the business day to day, despite both being in their 70s. That’s valuable when you have a team of other people working on your farm — to have people who can champion who you are as a family and how you like things done. We are very close to our cows. That’s part of the commitment you make as a dairy farmer, to make sure they are well looked after. The automated milking is fully voluntary, so they can come and go as they please. It’s our job to find out what we can do to motivate the cow to want to leave her paddock. It’s like a positive parenting program in some ways! We have brushes in the sheds. So they get up in the morning and think, “I’ll go to the shed, I know I’m going to get a scratch there and my grain, and I’ll to get to go to a new paddock after.” I do see the farm passing over to our kids. As part of that positive parenting, I guess you encourage them and find out ways you can motivate them to be part of it. I have no doubt that any one of the four could come home following their studies and continue farming. The milk that we produce today will be on a customer’s table tomorrow. So we are very close to our customers. People are intrigued; there are a lot of questions about how we produce our milk, the ethics around it, how we run our farm. And lots of people want to visit. It’s a really big hurdle for a farmer to say, “Please, come into my farm”. But if people can come and see how you do things and have a positive experience, I think you’ll have a customer — and a friend — for life. I believe it's the best way to champion agriculture and regional living.