Banks Peninsula
Clare Goodwin has trouble with her hothouse tomatoes.
Then you realise that you aren’t good at anything else, so what is the point in trying. Then, you talk to your best friend, mother, dog or anyone else who will listen patiently while you moan about your failures. By now, things might be looking up. Maybe there is a solution or maybe it’s just not that bad. At least, this is what happened to me last year when there was some herbicide contamination in my tunnel-house – the new growth on the tomato plants was all curled up like fern fronds.
I grow about 150 tomato plants in the tunnel-house, and I was selling the fruit at the local farmers market so it was a big blow. I grow vegetables organically, so I was in despair as well.
I spent a long time researching the problem and talking to people who might be able to help. I rang the city council because I suspected that the source of the problem might be some seaweed that
I had collected from a beach that was near the road. I sent a sample to some nice people at a plant diagnostic lab who said it was almost definitely due to herbicide.
I was ready to give up, but the plants didn’t die. They were a bit smaller than usual and they weren’t as prolific, but the tomatoes were still delicious. I didn’t sell at the market, because I couldn’t sell them as organic and that was important to me.
Tomatoes are extremely susceptible to contamination from herbicide so it only takes a tiny amount to affect them.
This year, I collected seaweed from our local beach which was a safer option.
I was ready and excited about the new season. The seedlings were healthy and strong. They got planted and were doing well.
Then I noticed that some of the plants were starting to look decidedly unhealthy. I thought it was the watering system.
Some plants weren’t getting enough moisture, so I fixed that problem.
But it wasn’t that. I looked closely. I needed my glasses. This was serious.
The stems had big white patches.
So, back to the cycle: panic, despair, research, talk.
Luckily, I have some very good friends. Jo Burleigh said maybe it was powdery mildew and to try a spray with baking soda. I did that. It wasn’t fun on my hands and knees spraying all the spots in the hot tunnel-house. But it looked like it might have worked.
It didn’t stop me thinking that I was a failure though. I was supposed to be good at growing tomatoes. Round here, I’m known as the tomato queen. I did a serious organic horticulture course! This shouldn’t be happening. It didn’t help that we had builders in the house. It meant that I spent most of the day looking at the failures.
Another friend, Emma Manhart, came over. She lives on a rural property overlooking Akaroa Harbour and knows a lot. She is always reading, researching about soil health, micro-organisms and a host of other organic-related topics.
She is also really positive. She let me have a wee moan, then we started talking about solutions. We went on a mission to get some wood chips left on the side of the road by some thoughtful people. Half the community has already collected some and it doesn’t look any different. It’s the best thing to have a source of free mulch.
The upshot of this mission is that, on Emma’s suggestion, this morning I have been putting wheelbarrows of the wood chips on the paths in my tunnel-house, between the plants. The idea is to encourage some more living organisms – the little ones, not the chook- or sheep-sized ones – into the soil.
I grow lots of other plants around my tomatoes to create biodiversity, but maybe I overdid it.
The tomatoes were overcrowded and there wasn’t good air flow.
My outside garden pretty much looks after itself during the warm months, apart from watering in the dry times, weeding and harvesting (courgettes – you can never have too many courgettes, can you?).
In comparison, the plants in the tunne-lhouse are needy. If I don’t check them in the morning, they look at me with guilt-inducing intensity. They need constant attention – delate-raling, tying up, checking for the wrong sort of bugs, watering even if it’s been raining for days.
So now, I have pulled some things out, and the wood chips make it all look cared for. I have my fingers crossed, but if the situation doesn’t improve, it isn’t the end of the world. I still have courgettes and
I still have my friends.