Overview of first WWOOFing experience

After three weeks spent on a farm on Vancouver Island I'm now back in the city, contemplating what I'm going to do next. For those who are interested in the day-to-day activities and variations thereof, I will write three more blog posts about my time on the farm, one for each week with a paragraph for each day; but this post I've written as a more general (though long) summary.

Lockwood Farm is located in Cobble Hill, about forty minutes north of Victoria, in the agricultural Cowichan Valley. My WWOOF hosts were James and Cammy, a couple in their late twenties with two kids aged four months and twenty-one months. Enzo the four-year-old chocolate Labrador completed the household. The Lockwood family has been farming for centuries, but mostly horticulturally; when James started, only a few years ago, he decided to take the tradition in a new direction, by growing edibles and having flocks of chicken and turkey.

There are three houses on the something like eight-acre property (which is on the site of an old school): James' parents live next door, and his sister with her family next to them. Originally from Yorkshire, they emigrated to Canada twenty-two years ago and James' parents still have no trace of a Canadian accent - though they use North American words like zucchini (courgette), arugula (rocket) and cilantro (coriander), which was strange to hear. His father Barry co-owns and helps manage the business.

For the first week I was the only WWOOFer, but German girl Maxi arrived on the first Saturday, and Japanese girl Ryoko the following Thursday. The variety of tasks wasn't large, but there were enough that we didn't do the same thing two days in a row. Cleaning eggs, harvesting and preparing for market, weeding and planting were what we did most.

Mondays and Thursdays were 'farm days'. Mornings began in the workshop (the old school gym, complete with paintings on the ceiling) with cleaning tubs that had been used to take produce to market the previous day. After the table had been cleared of those, we'd sit down to clean eggs (and weigh and sort them into medium or large cartons), which would take until about lunchtime. Afternoon tasks varied, but on Thursdays was usually weeding. On these days a sign advertising eggs was put on the roadside, so now and then someone would drive up to purchase a dozen or three.

I spent most of my second Monday there in bed, with a bucket on the floor beside me. Unfortunately and inexplicably I was unwell, which I haven't been in several years: the worst I get is a cold. Thankfully it was just a one-day thing, and everybody else was fine - although both Ryoko and Maxi have since suffered the same. James did too, on the day I left, but only from eating too many meringues and caramel cookies the evening before.

Weeding wasn't as hateful as I was expecting it to be: at home I used to loathe it, though was pleased that the garden looked tidy when I'd finished. Here it wasn't so bad. Of course it was still incredibly uncomfortable, which is never pleasant, and my neck and shoulders ached the next day, but weeding carrots and leeks was quite satisfying. It probably helped that the soil wasn't hard-packed and stony like at home.

Each Thursday Cammy picks up from the supermarket huge sacks full of bread about to exceed its sell-by date. It would all go to the food bank, but the people who use it are ridiculously picky and want sliced white only. So the Lockwoods get free bread, and lots of it. Some things like scones go mouldy within a day or two but there's always more than enough to last everyone the entire week. Everything left the following Thursday is fed to the chickens.

Tuesdays and Fridays were harvest days in preparation for market, so we worked until all the jobs were done. On Tuesdays we had to harvest not just for the market but also for the CSA boxes - Community Supported Agriculture members pay to receive a box of produce each week. After harvesting whichever crop, we'd wash them, picking out any bad or bug-eaten ones, then bunch or bag them.

Wednesdays and Saturdays were market days, which meant it was relaxed and easy on the farm and we could take the day off if we wanted to, and everyone had Sundays off.

The weather for the first week and a half was warm and sunny, and I got a bit tanned. We ate outside as much as possible, though the wasps were unwelcome company. The second half of week two was slightly cooler and cloudier, but with the autumn equinox arrived the autumnal weather, and week three was wet and chilly.

Meals were eaten together, which was nice. Breakfast was porridge and toast. Lunch varied, but usually had something to do with eggs or bread or cheese, or leftovers. Dinners were good; we ate well with as much as possible sourced from the farm or elsewhere locally.

It wasn't just things directly related to the day-to-day running of the farm that I was able to do. I had my first try at cutting up a whole chicken into the separate meat parts: breasts, thighs, wings and legs. I helped with shelling however many individual shrimp it takes to make up ten pounds in weight. Preserving-wise, I helped make jam with the profusion of plums Cammy and I harvested. We dried apples and herbs, and made pesto to freeze. The amount of rhubarb that wasn't quite good enough for market but still perfectly usable, was enough to make two crumbles with. Their pantry had jars and jars full of cherries and peaches, jams and jellies. I loved it.

Even though I've had only one fairly short experience of working on only one type of farm, I don't think I could be a farmer, or do WWOOFing during the winter (at least at this latitude). With full waterproofs on, working outside in the rain wasn't too bad - but it was only once or twice for a short while in the mild early autumn, and in worse rain and colder months I'd undoubtedly have more of a dislike for it. Also farming is a business; I have no interest in business and little tolerance for The Customer. It's a great way of life, but as with anything you have to be passionate enough to commit to it despite the things that mean it's not so nice sometimes.

However, I would definitely love to be able to grow my own fruit and vegetables, and perhaps keep chickens and bees. That hasn't changed, though I have a lot to learn. :)

So, to finish up: I enjoyed my three weeks as a WWOOFer on Lockwood Farm. While the daily tasks can't be described as fun or exciting, they certainly weren't dull or horrible, and there were definitely some fun times. Not for a moment did I wish I hadn't gone. I learned some new things, made some new friends and I'm so glad I did it. It was my first experience doing something like that and won't be my last.