Mauritius Beans As A Chance Crop

A Few Words in Season for Papuan Planters

THREE or four years ago, when I was planning to exchange a prosaic job in Australia for a career on the land in Papua, I felt I had one small trump card up my sleeve that would never fail me.

When estimates, on investigation, began to show less rosy prospects than expected, I consoled myself with the thought that Mauritius Beans would at least keep the pot boiling during the lean years while a permanent crop was coming into bearing.

My text books told me nothing about growing Mauritius Beans for sale, although I knew that a good many small planters produced them, and I had to depend on a few newspaper comments and a list of market prices ranging over five or six years.

Since then I have been growing the Beans for two years, and have gained a Tophet of a lot of experience, some of which I confided to the Editor of the P.I.M. He said that other growlers might

be interested in what I told him —hence this article, which attempts to show how to grow and harvest the beans, the costs of doing so, and the returns that may be expected.

Probably, there is nothing written here that is not known to every Bean grower, with the possible exception of the “surprise ending” to the tale; but, remembering my own fruitless hunt after information, these notes may be of use to somebody similarly placed. I have since learned that the Queensland De partment of Agriculture have published a pamphlet on the subject, but my experi ence did not tally with it —not by a long chalk. Any grower reading that pamph let’s account of the yield of Mauritius Beans might think his fortune was made.

There is a story current in Papua that, at a meeting of a now defunct planters’ association held many years ago, an ex perienced member stated that the Mauri tius Bean was the greatest curse ever introduced into the country. He was, of course, referring to the plant as a cover crop, and not as a revenue producer. The Bean is, however, not a curse, for it at least puts back a little nitrogen into the soil; but as a cover crop it may rightly be termed a fraud. It does not cover; it simply soars, allowing Lalang (the long grass that invades neglected plantations and which really is a curse) to flourish all the better underneath it.

But, I ask you, where does Lalang not flourish?

But our present consideration of Beans is as a chance, not a cover crop. In course of time, the vine bears beans which are used by North Queensland sugar farmers to fertilise their cane fields; and hence it has a definite market value which may help on the poor Island planter while more ambitious schemes are developing.

Soil.

It is said, the poorer the soil the better the yield. I have seen a good crop raised among granite boulders where there was practically no soil, and I have raised a tidy few myself on good fat loam. In fact, it does not seem particular about soil, though it refused to grow on water logged ground; and, when planted among heavy Lalang, showed a slightly reduced yield. Probably it likes best an arid sandy soil, and certainly a dryish climate so soon as fruit has set is a great help in harvesting.

Absolutely clean land in Papua appears to be a myth, or at least an ideal. When the time came to sow, my land was like the general run, somewhat of a wilder ness. That is to say, it had been neither ploughed nor hoed, was covered with vigorous weed growth, and the Passiflora was beginning to take possession. But the Bean did not seem to mind a little competition. It germinated well and shot up from the jump till it soon over topped everything in reach. Probably the

yield would be greater on ploughed land, but the expense is prohibitive, and most planters will do as I did and sow without great preparations. Any young trees or banana clumps already in the line of the rows can be left as supports, and will probably permit of a greater yield on the vines that utilize them.

Poling

Supports are necessary and must be placed in position first. I leave the mathematically minded to work out how many poles will be required per acre if placed in rows of eight feet from one another and six apart in the rows. Then multiply the result by the number of acres you intend to plant. The number will surprise you The stronger and higher the support the better the yield; but quite frail sticks or young scrub trees will hold them up nobly, so that, in view of that bugbear "costs," it is not necessary to be too particular. I used mangrove poles chiefly, the majority of which are doing duty for the second year.

Sowing, at stake in the loose earth at the foot of the poles, can be done during the rains. January sowing, with me, produced marketable beans in August, April sowing up to November. But it is wise to get on to the market early in the season and the November consignment must be the last.

An occasional clean up of very rampant neighbours is necessary, especially Passiflora, which in the early stages hooks on to the vines and prevents them going up the supports.

Yield.

If you want an optimist’s estimate, consult the pamphlet already referred to, where it is stated that the best (!) soil will produce up to 100 bushels per acre, and that 30 is the average. Against this, I place my own yield of about 12, which I consider could be increased to 16 or even 18 by closer planting and more attention.

This was my experience, and maybe I am the mug; but, after all, the Mauritius Bean is a Mauritius Bean and not a sweet pea. That 100-bushel yield makes me think of an old lady in gardening gloves and a watering-can and only one vine to look after.

Harvesting

If Bean growing has been all fair sailing so far, we now come (to mix metaphors) to the “worm i’ the bud,” in other words, the snag.

The method of shelling adopted was to tap each bean sharply near the curved point and along the hilum with a footlong piece of hardwood, about the thickness of the thumb. If hit in the right plane, the pod splits and a scoop with the finger does the rest. The process sounds rather tedious; in reality, it is

damnably so, and if anyone knows a better way I should be glad to hear of it.

An average boy can shell a bushel in a seven hours day—if supervised, I tried flailing, both in heaps on the ground and in bags, but failed. More over, flailing is more likely to injure the beans and spoil germination. There is a germination test of about 80 per cent. imposed on imports to Queensland; so, apart from commercial ethics, it is advisable to go over the shelled product and remove "bad eggs."

Although the bunches of beans may be picked and brought in with a certain amount of moisture in them, it is inad visable to attempt to shell till they are bone dry. Premature attempts on moist beans reduce the shelling rate to a quarter of the normal, so do not be in a hurry; wait till the beans are try, and save time and labour. To expedite drying, place the pods in the sun on trays, and take them in at night. A very wet climate, after July, is a distinct obstacle to a successful issue, and if excessive, might be considered almost prohibitive.

Beans grown along the dry North Queens land littoral can be harvested in August; whereas, in a wetter climate, I was labouring till mid-November.

Kiln-dried Beans from Fiji were unpopular in Queensland some years ago, as the artificial heat affected germination adversely.

I was told of a method whereby the beans were soaked in water overnight and left to split open in the sun in the morning. This system does not appeal to me; it appears to be a short cut to mould and premature germination. If generally adopted, it might bring the whole Papuan crop into disfavour.

Mould must be guarded against, as I have known a whole crop to be destroyed by it, so no method of shelling that mentions the word water receives any en couragement from me.

After shelling, a careful sunning is ad visable, but, like the shorn lamb, freshly shelled Beans are tender, and a good cooking in the sun may cause wrinkling and a trip to the rubbish heap with the previous day’s work.

An ordinary copra sack is used for bagging. It holds well over three bushels at first, but comes down in weight from subsequent desiccation and the imposition of that mysterious penalty termed “Tare.” An occasional glance through the bags while in the shed to detect signs of mould will not be time wasted.

Cost Of Production,

I quote my own figures as an example, I shipped 120 bushels of beans from the 12 acres, part of the crop being left for seed and part being too late for the market. The cost of producing these, computed at the ordinary rates of labour

in Papua, amounted to £84. (Of these, £20, or nearly a quarter, went in marketing expenses—bags, freight, charges, etc.) This works out at £7 an acre for the whole area, but only the crop from 10 acres was sent for sale.

I employed a boss boy and three others most of the time, reducing the staff to three during the growing season, and augmenting it by day labour very con siderably during the harvesting. But these figures could be slightly reduced, as the staff were able to do a certain amount of future developing work apart from the beans, and the boss boy is a luxury that a hard working planter might be ready to forego.

Anticipated Returns

These were computed on prices ruling for 1933, which were £1 per bushel F.O.B. Port Moresby. This may be regarded as the normal, for prices have been fairly constant over a period of many years, and were not apparently affected by the depression. My returns, therefore, should have been £120.

Undoubtedly, the pleasantest phase of Mauritius Bean growing is the arrival of the agent’s cheque; but in this uncertain world one should never count on it till one handles it. As my balance sheet shows (expenditure of £84 and anticipated returns of £120), it is obvious that Bean growing can be conducted at a profit. Mine should have been a matter

of £36. And a very nice little sum too —when you get it!

Actual Returns From 1934

Export.

Like O. Henry’s stories, my Mauritius Bean venture suffered a surprise ending.

When the 120 bushels had safely arrived in Cairns, a malign fate took a hand in the sequel.

Owing to an abnormal train of circum stances, drought principally, shortage of cash among sugar farmers, and large early consignments from Fiji, the market went “phut.” It absolutely dried up, with over 200 bushels of Papuan-grown Mauritius Beans left without a buyer.

Included in that lot were my 120 bushels.

I am told that only one Papuan grower sold his crop, and that was at 12/6 under contract—a price that is not very attractive. The actual return, conse quently, as far as I am concerned, was exactly nil, to say nothing of £80 odd out of pocket. Further comment is un necessary.

I don’t mention my experience in the hope of stopping others who wish to ven ture, though it may serve as a warning of the uncertainty of such enterprises.

One can only hope it won’t happen again —all the more as I have some 60 bushels in view for 1935 picking. With all the unsold consignments in hand it is not likely that prices will be very good this year, or the demand very great.

Another adverse factor is that the N.Q. farmer is always coming across substi tutes for Mauritius Beans, and one of these may eventually knock the Papuan product flat, for good and all. It will be time, then, to think of some other way of keeping the pot boiling.

In conclusion, gentle reader, I have to explain my reasons for remaining anony mous. Had I pocketed that anticipated profit, all the world might know who has written this effusion. But seeing that I got never a “Bean” for my Beans, my heart is sad thereby, and sign myself—