This article first appeared in our sister publication, Dairy Farmer.
Every cricketer’s dream is to notch a century – and a Taranaki farmer who was a keen cricketer in his younger days has done just that, except it’s in years, not runs between wickets.
Norm Johnson, who turned 100 in October, has lived on his Auroa, South Taranaki, farm for 93 years. He is now, in his words, “starting the one of the 101”.
The farm – in the person of Johnson’s farm manager, Piet Robbertze – milks 45 Friesian cows through a 16-a-side herringbone cowshed on the 40.5ha (40ha effective) farm. Next season there are 28 heifers coming in, and if a factory agrees to take the farm on once more, they’ll look to milk 100 cows.
Robbertze was born in his grandparents’ house in Rustenburg, South Africa. When he was four years old his father inherited his grandparent’s 150ha family farm. The property was a general farm where they hand-milked 30 dairy cows and cropped tobacco, chillies and maize, with 25ha under irrigation.
The farm was irrigated from a river via a creek that his grandfather dug by hand all the way to irrigation dams at the cropland.
In Year 6 Robbertze went to high school, where he boarded for four years. His father told him he needed a trade qualification before returning to the farm, so he qualified as a mechanical engineer and then came home.
“When I was 19 years old I was called up for National Service in 1 Parachute Battalion of the South African Defence Force. After training I was sent to the northern border for a year during the Angolan Border War. I had to postpone the last year of my apprenticeship until I’d finished my service,” Robbertze says.
“I was called up for three months annual service for 10 years before going on the Reserve Force, but still subject to immediate call-up. For three months of each year I left the farm and family to serve at the border.”
Robbertze then began managing a 2000ha grazing farm. After three years he left that farm and leased a 1500ha government grazing farm at Bophuthatswana, near the Botswana border.
“The area was made up of the same ethnic groups as from where I was brought up, and they also spoke Setswana. When I began primary school my Afrikaans wasn’t too good because I’d mostly spoken Setswana throughout my life,” Robbertze says.
They grew 600ha of maize and sunflowers and milked 112 Holstein Friesians to supply the rural area’s township shops with fresh milk.
“We also had 200 Brahman beef animals. We used Brahmans because they can’t be stolen. Once Brahmans know you, they’ll stick to you like a dog and follow you when you talk to them. If you’re a stranger, they’ll run away,” Robbertze says.
“If anyone tried to steal them from our huge 100ha paddocks, the Brahmans would run home. The moment they started running you knew there was a problem and it was time to check what was happening.”
Robbertze started a butchery in Rustenburg and put his eldest son through butchery school. His son ran the shop and Robbertze’s farm supplied it with meat.
In 2003, growing anxious about their future, the family looked into emigration options.
“My daughter had recently visited New Zealand and not only was it a safe country, it had reliable rainfall. I love rain and never complain about it. Where we farmed, we often had three- or four-year droughts. We had no irrigation, so were completely at the mercy of the weather,” Robbertze says.
The family came to New Zealand in 2005 and Robbertze began working as a farm manager on an 81ha Auroa farm milking 300 Friesian cows just across the road from Johnson’s farm.
Whenever Robbertze drove past Johnson’s farm with his boss he would be told that “Norm helps a lot of people out. He just does his own thing and lives his own life.”
After a year on that farm Robbertze leased a 90ha farm just around the corner from Johnson.
“One day my tractor broke down so I walked across to Norm’s to see if he could help. He loaned me his International 585 tractor until mine was repaired.
“I got to know him well and often popped in to see him when I’d finished milking. Norm was often still milking his 60-cow herd through his six-bay walk-through shed at 10pm.”
After two years the farm owner was entitled to review Robbertze’s lease. His third season was his best and his production outstripped anything the farm had previously done. But the lease was doubled, which he couldn’t afford, so he surrendered it.
“I’d used all of our savings to buy the 150-cow herd and then the milk price dropped from $7.10 to $5. Combined with the lease doubling, I couldn’t make it at all. I sold the herd at a loss, and because I’d surrendered the contract I was penalised $27,000.
“It was then that Stratford’s Central Butchery became available. I worked out a price and made an offer, which was accepted. I went home and said to my wife ‘Where are we going to get the money from?’”
The banks turned them down, and the only person they knew who would help them was Johnson. He loaned Robbertze the money, just as he’d done for so many other people who wanted to buy farms but had been turned down by the banks. Robbertze gave Johnson his lifestyle block and the butchery as security.
In 2015 Johnson was in hospital for a few days and came home to find that his entire milking herd of 68 cows and three bulls had been stolen. He was left with six calves and 14 heifers. That season he needed to take in heifer grazing until his heifers had calved and were able to be milked.
“When the herd was stolen many of the local farmers wanted to give Norm one or two cows to get him milking again, but he said no,” Robbertze says.
As appreciative as Johnson was for all the generous offers, he wanted to carry on with his own heifers and slowly but surely started from scratch to build up his herd.
The situation precluded him from supplying a milk company, so he needed another outlet for his milk. His solution was to use his milk to raise calves until he managed to build the herd up to a number at which a company would take him on once again.
In 2016 Johnson again found himself in hospital, and because Robbertze knew the farm well, he asked him to look after it.
“I ran the farm for two weeks and then fetched Norm from hospital. Norm got stronger over the next few weeks so I told him that I’d leave it to him now. But he knew that he could fall at any time, and asked me to keep running the farm.”
Robbertze has run the farm since 2016. His son, wife and sister run the butchery. He used to work at the butchery each day until midday, and then go to the farm to work. He now works at the butchery one day a week.
Robbertze is not sure of the herd’s milksolids totals because there is no daily factory docket, but thinks the best cows would be doing around 500kg milksolids and the lower-producing ones around 350kg MS.
Johnson and Robbertze have been in talks with milk companies in the hope of becoming a factory supplier once again next season.
“I predicted that with 100 cows we’d do 35-40,000kg MS. At the moment we’re milking 45 cows and producing 5000-600 litres of milk per day,” Robbertze says.
“We’re a System 2 farm, but if we’re accepted by a milk company and milk 100 cows, we’ll probably jump to System 4.”
Johnson is a firm believer that well-fed and mineralised cows are the key to good production.
Five tonnes of a mineralised molasses is ordered every two months to feed to the cows through the in-shed system. The cows love the molasses and can’t wait to get into the shed to get to the ad lib troughs where they can eat as much as they like.
Hay and molasses are the only supplements used. Six hectares of hay is harvested which makes about 190 big (15s) square bales.
“The molasses is fortified with minerals and its sugar and protein keeps the cows up, the hay fills them up, and of course they’re grazing in the paddocks. When the bulls are with the herd they eat their molasses from the yard from the troughs at the end of the cowshed.” Robbertze says.
When it begins to get dry in February, Robbertze cuts flax, puts it through the chaff cutter, mixes it into the molasses and feeds it to the bulls, who absolutely love it.
The shelterbelts and plantations add a diversity of feed for the cattle and Johnson believes it helps mineralise the cows. The farm’s plantations help protect the animals from the sun and South Taranaki’s harsh southerly winds.
“Cattle love karaka leaves and berries. People often say that you can’t have karaka trees near cattle because it’ll kill them, but that’s absolute rubbish. We have plenty of them in the race plantation. When their big, orange berries begin dropping the cows rush down the race to be first to get to them,” Johnson says.
When Robbertze opens the gate to that paddock he shakes the branches and the berries drop to the ground and the cows start a “lolly scramble” to hoover them up.
Johnson says that a ryegrass and clover pasture still takes a lot of beating. In the seven years that Robbertze’s been on the farm they have never ploughed the pasture. They use a Groundhog seeder that utilises spikes to reseed pasture without tilling the soil.
During the peak grass growth period the pasture is topped in front of the herd. The paddocks are regularly harrowed to spread the manure and ensure all parts of the pasture receive a similar amount of nutrients to even out the pasture growth.
The 12-week season calving begins around August 7. They never worry about their six week in-calf rate. As Robbertze says, “there’s no rush”. Over the past six years all of the heifer calves have been kept to build up the herd.
“We usually have a 90% or higher in-calf rate. This season we only had two empties from 45 cows,” Robbertze says.
“I think part of the reason for our high in-calf rate is that the cows aren’t being put under stress and are well fed and mineralised. I’ve found that by feeding molasses and minerals to the cows they begin bulling much faster.”
The bull calves from the lowest producing cows are steered or sold at weaning. They are weaned at 100kg and sold when 105-110kg.
About 200 calves are raised each season. This season their white-faced autumn calves averaged $700 each and the 100 Friesian bulls raised on Robbertze’s lifestyle block averaged $520 each.
They still have 68 bull calves left and have far too much milk for them, so they sell the excess to a local farmer who is also raising calves. Some mornings the farmer will take away up to 1400 litres.
“If accepted by a factory we would still raise 150 spring calves, 50 autumn calves, plus the farm’s calves,” Robbertze says.
Robbertze buys colostrum from neighbouring farms to feed the calves. When the farm has excess milk at the end of the calf rearing season, he sells it to other calf rearers.
The bulls go into the herd for mating on October 24, which is Johnson’s birthday, and are taken out on January 30.
“The cows are recorded and we keep five or six bull calves from the best-producing cows with the best body type and markings. The best of the bulls are used over the herd when they’re two years old,” Robbertze says.
“It’s exciting seeing the first calves come in and to see if they have the right markings. The aim is to have consistent line of animals, that’s proof that your breeding is working,” Johnson says.
“A dairy cow must have good conformation and be a good all-round animal. Type does come into it, but you want production too. It’s a balance, though, because if the udders are overtaxed they’re inclined to break down.”
Johnson says that cows that are mostly black are more resistant to facial eczema and that black udders are less susceptible to sun and wind chapping. Cows with black teats have long been a sought-after breed trait in his breeding plan.
“The Friesian Association stipulates that a Friesian must have four white feet, four white legs up to the knee and a white tail switch; that’s all that matters. Facial eczema was never a problem in the early days; it’s a fairly recent occurrence and some years are worse than others,” Johnson says.
“I feel that a cow’s black skin is stronger against the sun and facial eczema does seem to start on the white skin. We’ve had no eczema in the seven years I’ve been here,” Robbertze says.
Johnson is an early pioneer of once-a-day milking and has been farming this way for about 60 years.
“When I began I couldn’t talk to anybody about it, because milking once a day was unheard of. But I decided to try it anyway,” Johnson says.
“There were plenty of raised eyebrows, but I think most of the comments were said behind my back. I was told that it wouldn’t work, the herd would be rotten with mastitis, and they’d be dry by Christmas. None of that happened. I did it and I’m still here.”
He is a believer in having minimal debt if at all possible. Having low debt levels allowed him to try something different and he says “I could afford it, so I could afford to try it.”
He believes that anyone wanting to try one-a-day should talk to farmers who are successfully practising the regime. He didn’t have that luxury.
“You should milk the cows in the afternoon so they’re not lying all night on an udder full of milk. If it’s a wet and muddy night and the teats are leaking milk, it’s inviting trouble,” Johnson says.
“Milking once a day gives you until 2pm to get your work done. And now with the new herringbone shed, I’m finished milking in an hour and have the rest of the afternoon to finish jobs,” Robbertze says.
“Milking once a day changes your entire attitude. It significantly reduces your farm’s running costs and halves the wear and tear on a lot of the farm plant and machinery. It reduces the wear and tear on your body too.”
Johnson’s father built the original six-bay walk-through cowshed in 1930. Johnson has rebuilt parts of it such as the milk room, and has removed the dray shed where the dray or tractor was backed in to take the milk cans to the factory.
At the end of last season Robbertze rebuilt the old cowshed into a 16-a-side herringbone. He had it completely finished and ready to milk two days before the start of the season.
“We used a little digger that could fit under the roof to dig the pit, and right at the end we struck a rock that we couldn’t remove,” Robbertze says.
It took days and an application of Betonamit, a powder mixed with water and poured into holes bored into the rock, which then cracked apart. He was able to use their big tractor and chains to lift the blocks out of the hole.
The task of building the new shed at minimal cost was also a lesson in the ability to think outside the square.
“We bought the entire plant from a local farm on Facebook Buy and Sell. The farm had been sold and the purchaser wasn’t carrying on with dairy,” Robbertze says.
“I asked him how much he wanted for it and he said ‘Name a price’. I thought I’d take a chance and offered him $1,000 and he told me to take the lot. A friend and I removed the entire plant in about two hours, put it on the trailer and took it home.”
The next task was sourcing the steel pipes for the rails. Robbertze visited a steel supplier whose quote of $3,000 was far too expensive.
“A farm just outside Hawera advertised a cow shed for sale on Facebook Buy and Sell.
“We only wanted the steelwork and they too asked me to name a price, so once again I said ‘$1,000’. They told me to take it away. I bought a grinder, and my brother-in-law and I cut it all up in a day and took it to the farm.”
Once the work was completed, Robbertze called a friend who had worked for a dairy plant company to check his handiwork. All of the pipework lined up and the plant ran perfectly.
It now takes Robbertze 35 minutes to milk 45 cows and he’s sure it will only take a little longer to milk 100 cows if the herd size is increased next season.
“I’ve liked farming ever since I was a kid. I think I was born liking it. I enjoy seeing the farm develop and being able to help Norm achieve those goals,” Robbertze says.
“To be a successful farmer you need to keep your wits about you. I do worry about the big corporate farms gobbling up the smaller farms. It’s making it difficult for young farmers to get into a farm,” Johnson says.
“If you’ve helped to build a home, planted trees and seen things flourish, and have bred cattle the way you want them, it’s you; and you can’t get away from it.”
