PWAC Victoria: Frances Backhouse, Writing Sample

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The Urban Farmer

by Frances Backhouse © 1994

A successful mini-farm in downtown Victoria, British Columbia. Originally published in Canadian Gardening, April 1994.

There's nothing particularly remarkable about a man whose annual harvest includes 400 pounds of potatoes, 200 pounds of onions and 250 cucumbers--a man who raises more chickens and turkeys than will fit into two freezers and picks enough apples to produce 160 gallons of juice. Brett Black could be considered just another British Columbia back-to-the-lander, except that his domain is a parcel of four city lots a quarter mile from the heart of downtown Victoria.

Gardening on the scale that Brett does it is more than most city dwellers care to tackle, but there is much to be learned from this passionate proponent of organic growing and urban rejuvenation. If you want to know how to improve the productivity of your raspberries, how to grow potatoes that won't require digging, or a sure-fire method of combating wireworms, spend an afternoon with Brett at the farm on Mason Street. He will welcome you with a warm, wide smile and send you away itching to get to work in your own garden.

When Brett moved to Mason Street five years ago, the property was a disaster. "Every square inch of ground was covered with couch grass, morning glory or blackberries," he recalls. "It was scary." Of the three houses that had stood there since the turn of the century, only one remained and that was barely liveable.

Nobody but a dreamer would have responded as Brett did when the owner of the property phoned him and said "Have I got a place for you." "I'd always looked at it and thought I'd love to have that spot," Brett says. "Not the house, of course--that was incredibly ugly--but the land. It was a perfect urban regeneration project."

The fact that he was only a renter and the landlord owned ten adjoining lots with an eye towards future development was no deterrent to Brett. The first thing he did was haul away "about seven tons" of garbage and cover the entire quarter-acre with 250 bales of hay to smother the weeds. He then turned his attention to improving his living quarters, rewiring and replumbing the house, and brightening the interior of the small, dark bungalow with paint.

The first spring Brett planted rye grass to identify areas of sick soil--places soaked with engine oil or other toxic substances. In one corner where a laundry shed had stood, the ground had been saturated with concentrated soap. "Rye grass looks so nice normally," Brett explains, "but where the land is bad there will be a big patch of stunted yellow growth."

Although there weren't as many problem areas as he had anticipated, Brett decided to build up new soil instead of digging down and exposing contaminants. Using sheet composting and mulching, he started creating a fertile, new layer of soil that covered the whole property. Some parts of the garden are now almost two feet higher than they were five years ago, an achievement that Brett owes partly to the efforts of his 120 hens, which he fondly calls his "compost machines."

Brett's neighbours had no objections to his avian workforce, but ten dozen chickens can't live long in a city backyard without attracting official attention. So it wasn't completely unexpected when a passing motorcycle policeman decided that investigating the legality of urban poultry farming was more interesting than handing out speeding tickets. The only problem was that Brett was away on holiday.

Having determined that Brett was not contravening Victoria's animal control bylaw, which prohibited the keeping of roosters but did not limit the number of hens, the officer referred the case to the SPCA. The SPCA came around to investigate and found no problem with the way the chickens were being cared for. Nevertheless, they approached city council with a recommendation that no one should be allowed to keep more than six fowl. The council changed the bylaw and Brett returned from Mexico to the news that he owned 114 illegal chickens.

Fortunately, the local media jumped at the story and the public threw its support behind "the chicken man." Within ten days he had 600 signatures on a petition. "It was incredible," Brett says. "People were really upset. They'd come by and say 'I came all the way in from Saanich to sign your petition because this is stupid.' My landlord phoned up city hall and told them 'Look, I own 200 properties in town and I want you to lay off him.'" Many Victorians also showed their support by buying eggs. "I wish I'd had 800 chickens," he laughs. "I could have gotten rich."

Finally there was so much publicity that half the city councillors came to assess the situation for themselves. They were so impressed with what they saw that they immediately rescinded the bylaw change. Now that he has built up a good base of soil, Brett has reduced his flock and no longer sells eggs. But chickens--along with turkeys, geese and ducks--remain an integral part of his balanced approach to urban farming.

It was around the time of the chicken dispute that Brett met Steve Reynolds, a professional gardener whose company provides chemical-free gardening services to residential and commercial customers. The two men discovered that they shared a keen interest in working towards food self-sufficiency, and since 1990 they have combined their efforts on Mason Street and at Steve's place, learning from each other and sharing their output.

Brett estimates that he now raises about 75 percent of the food he eats in summer and 40 percent in winter. When asked how many people the Mason Street farm feeds, Brett ponders before deciding the number is between five and seven. This includes his daughter Jett who lives half-time with him and half with her mother across the street, various friends of Brett's who come and go from the trailer and teepee in his yard, and Steve's family of three. Brett does not sell his garden produce because it bothers him to think of strangers eating the food he has put so much of himself into growing. Instead he gives away to friends what he cannot use in his own kitchen.

Each year the garden evolves as Brett and Steve try new ideas. Last summer they let the raspberry canes grow to their full height and then bowed them over and tied them off. This increased the number of side shoots each plant produced, resulting in a higher yield of fruit. They also successfully experimented with sowing leeks in multi-plant soil blocks, an idea borrowed from one of their favourite books, Eliot Coleman's The New Organic Grower. The garden also changes as crops are moved to new locations to reduce their vulnerability to pests and diseases.

Brett has never used chemicals on the garden, not even insecticidal soaps or diatomaceous earth, for fear they will harm beneficial insects as well as the target species. "This place is a good drawing card for predators," Steve explains, "because there is always something flowering--shrubs, herbs, flowers--except for maybe one or two months of the year. A lot of the predatory insects use flowers as a secondary source of nutrition." Ladybugs, ichneumonid wasps and green lacewings are all common in the garden. As we speak Brett reaches down and picks up a ladybug larva. "Seventy-five aphids a day," he notes with satisfaction.

In addition to crop rotation, Brett and Steve also rely on interplanting to ensure healthy plants. The result is a garden that might look chaotic to some, but for those who find beauty in diversity, it is a joy. Medicinal and culinary herbs turn up everywhere: anise, oregano, hyssop, chocolate mint, Egyptian ragweed, tarragon, coltsfoot and numerous others. Evening primrose blooms between a line of enormous Czechoslovakian kohlrabi and a vegetable marrow hedge. Sunflowers along the north fence tower over rows of carrots and garlic. Blue corn grows side-by-side with amaranth, a protein-rich grain that Brett has recently started cultivating.

The only permanent plantings are the hardy survivors from the 1940s when the property was owned by a Portuguese family. They left as their legacy five fruit trees--three apples, a plum, a pear and a cherry--as well as Concord and Red Flame grape vines that climb the walls on opposite sides of the house.

There is nothing in Brett's yard that could be called a lawn, nor are there ever any empty beds. As soon as one food crop is harvested, it is succeeded by another or replaced with green manure, a non-food crop that is grown to improve soil fertility. Brett uses vetch as a living green manure, transplanting seedlings right into it as it grows. He sows buckwheat in spring, then cuts it in July or August and leaves it lying in place as a mulch for winter vegetables like kale and broccoli.

Victoria's mild climate is excellent for year-round gardening, but tender crops such as tomatoes, peppers and melons still require an indoor start. Brett's three greenhouses (one 18- by 24-feet and the others 10- by 10-feet) are a tribute to his ingenuity. "I didn't spend a dime building them," Brett says. "All the materials are recycled." The plastic came from a nursery that was replacing all the coverings on their greenhouses at once, even though most of it was still in good condition. Hydroponic units for starting seedlings were devised by Brett and Steve from scavenged pieces of plastic pipe.

One of the small greenhouses is filled with decorative cacti and a massive lemon verbena tree, the heavenly scented leaves of which are harvested for tea. The other has accommodated, among other things, cantaloupes and young chicks.

The large, double-walled greenhouse is a year-round activity centre. On dull January days, Brett and Steve sit on the old couch in one corner and plan next summer's garden. By February, the workbenches are covered with trays of seedlings. Through spring and summer, impressive quantities of cucumbers, tomatoes, hot and sweet peppers, eggplants and basil are produced. This winter Brett has added heat to the large greenhouse, another step on the road to food self-sufficiency.

Transforming a vacant lot that was knee-deep in weeds and garbage into a highly productive organic farm is an accomplishment any gardener would be proud of, but for Brett there is pleasure beyond the eating. Rejuvenating the Mason Street property has been an affirmation of his belief that urban life need not be isolated from natural processes. "I think our society is deplorable," he says, "but I can have some effect on it by bringing food production into the city."

It pleases Brett that he has inspired at least a dozen other people to take "nasty pieces of land" and turn them into gardens. "I couldn't live in the city if I didn't feel I was making some impact on the way people look at the urban environment," he says. And between children on school field trips discovering where carrots really come from, neighbours dropping by to ask for advice, and apartment-dwelling seniors stopping to chat, feed the ducks and admire the flowers, Brett's place does have an impact.

Some Victorians, of course, turn up their noses at the poultry pens, the bales of hay, and rampant vegetable patches that take the place of neat flower beds and trimmed lawns, but they don't understand that gardening is a political act. Brett Black is voting with his hoe for a healthier, saner environment.

Frances Backhouse
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Last updated: April 21, 2002 http://www.islandnet.com/pwacvic/backho02.html