InFocus Magazine — A Family Heritage
Dec/Jan ‘09
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Food for Thought
A Family Heritage
Valley family talks turkey and shares their history of farming…
By Terri Perrin • December & January 2009
n terms of Christmas traditions, tadalafil 28 years is not very old. Given that historians trace many of our winter holiday customs back several thousand years to pre-Christian times, what is ed 28 years is actually just a blip.
But 28 years has been ample time for the Denman Island Christmas Craft Faire to become, cheap for many people, as essential to the season as carols, colored lights, presents and latkes. For these people, the Faire, reputed to be one of the best in BC, is not just a great place to buy gifts; it’s a treasured holiday-season tradition.
The biggest draw, of course, is the variety and quality of the wares: pottery, weaving, jewellery, cosmetics, toys, carvings, culinary items, clothing and more. People come to shop, but also to enjoy. Gathered into the 8,300 square feet of two community halls is an array of artistic output that is the equivalent of several dozen gallery exhibits. There’s home-made food for sale in both halls and a variety of tempting snacks (poutine, steaming lattés made from locally roasted coffee, fresh-pressed apple juice) at the funky outdoor booths. There are twinkling lights and sprigs of holly and smiling faces, and there is beauty and color everywhere you look.
“There are people who have been attending regularly for over two decades,” says Faire coordinator Leslie Dunsmore. In fact, she knows people who have been to every single Faire since it was launched— including herself. Dunsmore has been coordinator since the second Faire took place in 1981.
Over the years, Dunsmore has seen both the Faire, and the artisans it features, mature. The Faire started as the brainchild of Denman artist Sudasi Gardner, whose booth, featuring her luminous paintings, colorful wall-hangings, hand-knitted and woven clothing, soaps, cards and more, is still a Faire favorite. ‘Planning’ and ‘publicity’ happened through word of mouth and it seemed as if the Faire sprung into being spontaneously, says Dunsmore. “We all arrived at 9:30 am on a Saturday, threw $5 into a pot to cover hall rental, and found a spot in the Hall. It was fun, and very social, with lots of locals coming to check it out. And there were some purchases, as well.”
It was clear that this event was going to grow and would need some focused management, so Gardner asked Dunsmore, an accomplished painter and community organizer, to take over as coordinator in the second year. Since then, the Faire, and her job, have both grown substantially. The task of putting on an event of this size—70-plus artisans, two community halls, more than 3,000 visitors—is huge, and not without challenges.
Rumors that artisans have had fist-fights over prime spots for their booths are entirely unfounded, says Dunsmore. All she will say is that as the Faire grew more popular, competition for spots intensified and she realized she needed to set up some guidelines.
Thus was born another local tradition: the Craft Faire application deadline. For years, Denman artisans have planned their lives in order to be available for this late-September date. Annually, they would crawl out of bed in the wee hours to line up at the Denman Craft Shop with their completed application forms. Those in the front of the line got first choice for their table location. When the Shop opened at 9:00 there would be as many as 50 people waiting. Over the years, Dunsmore developed strict protocols so no one can ‘work the system,’ for instance, by coming later and handing their application form to someone in the front of the line.
This year the tradition has changed; Dunsmore has initiated a mailing system, which, she says, has worked well. “This year there were 40 applicants on the first day and only two spots were claimed by two people.” The conflict, she assures us, was solved peacefully.
The Faire offers remaining spaces to artists from off-island. There is always more interest than space for these, says Dunsmore, so artisans must submit their work to a local jury, which has the difficult task of choosing who will exhibit at the Faire.
All of the work submitted to the jury is good quality, says Dunsmore. “So it’s not about who’s better than who. The jury prioritizes the work based on its uniqueness. That is what we look for.”
The practical challenges of the event are many, and Dunsmore can remember overcoming all kinds of crises. There have been last-minute blown fuses, repeated brown-outs, and total power outages, but the Faire has always gone on. The year of the power outage, the hall was lit entirely by about 70 candles. “It was a beautiful shopping experience, but the fire chief didn’t know,” Dunsmore says with a chuckle. “That was a long time ago. These days we are much more careful,” she adds reassuringly.
She laughs, as well, about the year two three-gallon buckets of honey leaked in the trunk of her car as she was about to set up for the Faire. “It was one of those moments—do I scream in total frustration, wail at the exhaustion of getting ready for the Faire, or keep pushing forward?” She chose the latter, and simply closed the car trunk on the three-inch deep pool of golden honey. Out of sight, out of mind—at least for a while.
“Three days later, at home, on my third attempt at scooping up gobs of sticky honey, a friend arrived and said, ‘Oh, didn’t you know, cars nowadays have a plug at the bottom of the trunk so liquid can drain out easily…’ I was ecstatic to discover this simple engineering feature, failing to remember that honey running down the driveway in the middle of a beekeeping operation is not always a good thing.
“With the winter sun beating on the bee meadow, tens of thousands of bees from 50 hives arrived to fight it out and slurp up the sweet remains. I was happy they could get more food stored for winter. And I prayed that the neighbors would not drop by that day!”
This being the West Coast, every now and then it snows, and when that happens, things can get crazy. In 2007, it started snowing early in the week of the Craft Faire and, in spite of the fervent prayers of many, didn’t really stop. On Thursday, Dunsmore started to get frantic phone calls. Some of the artists had no electricity for days before the event; others were stuck at home due to impassable driveways, or even stuck part-way down impassable driveways.
This is when things get heart-warming. Volunteers showed up, often unbidden, wherever they were needed, with tractors, shovels and strong arms and backs; driveways were cleared, boxes carried, and nerves soothed. Dunsmore transported 40 strings of Christmas lights and 70 electrical cords down her steep and winding driveway on a make-shift ‘sled,’ which was just a sheet of plywood sliding precariously over the snow.
The event carried on more or less as planned under a magical blanket of snow, with more white stuff falling from the sky all weekend. Attendance was lower than usual, but community spirit ran high.
Community spirit, of course, is a big part of the Faire. The Faire brings the Island together to honor its artists, boost its economy, enhance community pride and celebrate the season.
Dunsmore estimates the number of people involved in the event (vendors, assistants to vendors, decorators, shuttle-van drivers, food concession workers, buskers, cleaners, organizational support, and other helpers) as approximately 250; hundreds of other locals attend the event and host guests from off-island.
Over the years, Dunsmore has seen many hobby crafters use the Faire as a stepping stone toward launching a business. Through their experience setting up and staffing a booth, talking to and observing their peers and interacting with clients, participants get a crash course in marketing over the weekend; they gain confidence, make business contacts, and often, come away inspired.
The event brings in money not just for the vendors, but also for the community non-profit groups which run the food concessions and sell raffle tickets and other goods. All their profits go to worthy causes ranging from children’s orphanages in Nepal to local land conservation.
As well, the children’s table brings kids out to take part in the ‘adult’ world, giving them a chance to experience the value of their efforts, practice business skills, and be recognized for their work. Oh—and have fun, too. After their shifts, many of the children gather up their earnings and cruise the Faire to get presents for their parents.
“It’s not just about economic enhancement, it’s about bonding in the community,” says Dunsmore.
The deep community roots of the event are part of what attracts so many visitors from outside of Denman Island as well. People are thrilled to experience such a vibrant alternative to mass consumption of mass produced goods.
“In typical gift shopping, you go out to a big centre and look for the best bargain. You generally have no idea where it was made or by who. At the Craft Faire, everything you buy has the added value of relationship,” says Dunsmore. Artisans at the Faire are required to staff their own tables; for shoppers, being able to buy something directly from the person who made it is both fun and meaningful.
As evidenced by the recent interest in local eating, more and more people these days are looking for authenticity, personal connection, and environmental sustainability in their lives—all of which the Craft Faire doles out a-plenty.
“There’s a hand-made revolution going on right now,” says Denman artisan and Craft Faire exhibitor Bronwyn Simons, who along with her partner Bob runs Terra Home, producer of exquisite art tiles and hand-built tableware.
“We’re paying more attention to where things come from and what they’re made of. Is it sustainable? Is it ethical? Does it have enduring value? Does it connect me with others in a positive way? Is it special and unique? A well and lovingly hand-made object usually answers ‘yes’ to all these questions,” says Simons.
Dunsmore agrees. “Appreciation of the value of handcrafted objects has waxed and waned over the decades. Right now interest is high,” she says.
The Denman Craft Faire, she says, just gets more and more popular. “I do keep statistics, and the revenue has increased every year, except for the year with the big snowfall. And we made up the difference the next year, which was fantastic.”
Dunsmore says she has three favorite Craft Faire moments that recur each year. “The first great moment is at about 10-to-10 on the Saturday morning, when we are just about to open. I’m in the Community Hall. There’s a large surge of visitors at the doors; the guards are preventing them from getting in. Everything is looking pretty good; the crises are mostly over. I stand back and look around me and say to myself, ‘This is all quite beautiful.’ I know that mostly, my job is done. Now it’s up to the artists,” she says.
Her second favorite moment comes soon after closing time later that day. The vendors have tidied up and gone home to rest; the night attendant (someone is needed to ensure the thousands of dollars worth of merchandise stays safe) doesn’t come till later. Dunsmore is alone, surrounded by an absolutely amazing collection of arts and crafts, like a kid in a candy store accidentally left behind after hours.
“I make my way around the two empty halls, taking my time, and I memorize what I want. The next morning, once we’re open, I go around and buy it all,” she says.
The third special moment is very simple: on Sunday afternoon, as the Faire moves into its final hour or two, Dunsmore makes the rounds of both halls handing out Japanese oranges to the vendors. She has processed applications from each and every one of them, answered their questions and promoted their goods; some of them she has coached through their first-ever craft sales experience; others she has seen grow as artists and entrepreneurs for almost three decades. Everyone is exhausted, and usually exhilarated as well. The orange provides a bit of sweet juicy energy to help make it through to the end.
It’s a small gesture that always elicits big smiles. It’s become a tradition, in a relatively short time—just like the Craft Faire itself.
The Denman Island Christmas Craft Faire takes place Saturday, Dec 5th, and Sunday, Dec 6th, from 10:00 am to 4:00 pm at the Denman Community Hall and the Seniors’ Hall. Visitors from Vancouver Island are invited to leave their cars at the Buckley Bay Ferry Terminal and walk onto the ferry, thus saving money and avoiding ferry line-ups. From the Denman terminal, it’s a short walk up the hill to the site, or take the Faire’s shuttle service which runs continually from the ferry to the Faire.
In terms of Christmas traditions, 28 years is not very old. Given that historians trace many of our winter holiday customs back several thousand years to pre-Christian times, 28 years is actually just a blip.
But 28 years has been ample time for the Denman Island Christmas Craft Faire to become, for many people, as essential to the season as carols, colored lights, presents and latkes. For these people, the Faire, reputed to be one of the best in BC, is not just a great place to buy gifts; it’s a treasured holiday-season tradition.
The biggest draw, of course, is the variety and quality of the wares: pottery, weaving, jewellery, cosmetics, toys, carvings, culinary items, clothing and more. People come to shop, but also to enjoy. Gathered into the 8,300 square feet of two community halls is an array of artistic output that is the equivalent of several dozen gallery exhibits. There’s home-made food for sale in both halls and a variety of tempting snacks (poutine, steaming lattés made from locally roasted coffee, fresh-pressed apple juice) at the funky outdoor booths. There are twinkling lights and sprigs of holly and smiling faces, and there is beauty and color everywhere you look.
“There are people who have been attending regularly for over two decades,” says Faire coordinator Leslie Dunsmore. In fact, she knows people who have been to every single Faire since it was launched— including herself. Dunsmore has been coordinator since the second Faire took place in 1981.
Over the years, Dunsmore has seen both the Faire, and the artisans it features, mature. The Faire started as the brainchild of Denman artist Sudasi Gardner, whose booth, featuring her luminous paintings, colorful wall-hangings, hand-knitted and woven clothing, soaps, cards and more, is still a Faire favorite. ‘Planning’ and ‘publicity’ happened through word of mouth and it seemed as if the Faire sprung into being spontaneously, says Dunsmore. “We all arrived at 9:30 am on a Saturday, threw $5 into a pot to cover hall rental, and found a spot in the Hall. It was fun, and very social, with lots of locals coming to check it out. And there were some purchases, as well.”
It was clear that this event was going to grow and would need some focused management, so Gardner asked Dunsmore, an accomplished painter and community organizer, to take over as coordinator in the second year. Since then, the Faire, and her job, have both grown substantially. The task of putting on an event of this size—70-plus artisans, two community halls, more than 3,000 visitors—is huge, and not without challenges.
Rumors that artisans have had fist-fights over prime spots for their booths are entirely unfounded, says Dunsmore. All she will say is that as the Faire grew more popular, competition for spots intensified and she realized she needed to set up some guidelines.
Thus was born another local tradition: the Craft Faire application deadline. For years, Denman artisans have planned their lives in order to be available for this late-September date. Annually, they would crawl out of bed in the wee hours to line up at the Denman Craft Shop with their completed application forms. Those in the front of the line got first choice for their table location. When the Shop opened at 9:00 there would be as many as 50 people waiting. Over the years, Dunsmore developed strict protocols so no one can ‘work the system,’ for instance, by coming later and handing their application form to someone in the front of the line.
This year the tradition has changed; Dunsmore has initiated a mailing system, which, she says, has worked well. “This year there were 40 applicants on the first day and only two spots were claimed by two people.” The conflict, she assures us, was solved peacefully.
The Faire offers remaining spaces to artists from off-island. There is always more interest than space for these, says Dunsmore, so artisans must submit their work to a local jury, which has the difficult task of choosing who will exhibit at the Faire.
All of the work submitted to the jury is good quality, says Dunsmore. “So it’s not about who’s better than who. The jury prioritizes the work based on its uniqueness. That is what we look for.”
The practical challenges of the event are many, and Dunsmore can remember overcoming all kinds of crises. There have been last-minute blown fuses, repeated brown-outs, and total power outages, but the Faire has always gone on. The year of the power outage, the hall was lit entirely by about 70 candles. “It was a beautiful shopping experience, but the fire chief didn’t know,” Dunsmore says with a chuckle. “That was a long time ago. These days we are much more careful,” she adds reassuringly.
She laughs, as well, about the year two three-gallon buckets of honey leaked in the trunk of her car as she was about to set up for the Faire. “It was one of those moments—do I scream in total frustration, wail at the exhaustion of getting ready for the Faire, or keep pushing forward?” She chose the latter, and simply closed the car trunk on the three-inch deep pool of golden honey. Out of sight, out of mind—at least for a while.
“Three days later, at home, on my third attempt at scooping up gobs of sticky honey, a friend arrived and said, ‘Oh, didn’t you know, cars nowadays have a plug at the bottom of the trunk so liquid can drain out easily…’ I was ecstatic to discover this simple engineering feature, failing to remember that honey running down the driveway in the middle of a beekeeping operation is not always a good thing.
“With the winter sun beating on the bee meadow, tens of thousands of bees from 50 hives arrived to fight it out and slurp up the sweet remains. I was happy they could get more food stored for winter. And I prayed that the neighbors would not drop by that day!”
This being the West Coast, every now and then it snows, and when that happens, things can get crazy. In 2007, it started snowing early in the week of the Craft Faire and, in spite of the fervent prayers of many, didn’t really stop. On Thursday, Dunsmore started to get frantic phone calls. Some of the artists had no electricity for days before the event; others were stuck at home due to impassable driveways, or even stuck part-way down impassable driveways.
This is when things get heart-warming. Volunteers showed up, often unbidden, wherever they were needed, with tractors, shovels and strong arms and backs; driveways were cleared, boxes carried, and nerves soothed. Dunsmore transported 40 strings of Christmas lights and 70 electrical cords down her steep and winding driveway on a make-shift ‘sled,’ which was just a sheet of plywood sliding precariously over the snow.
The event carried on more or less as planned under a magical blanket of snow, with more white stuff falling from the sky all weekend. Attendance was lower than usual, but community spirit ran high.
Community spirit, of course, is a big part of the Faire. The Faire brings the Island together to honor its artists, boost its economy, enhance community pride and celebrate the season.
Dunsmore estimates the number of people involved in the event (vendors, assistants to vendors, decorators, shuttle-van drivers, food concession workers, buskers, cleaners, organizational support, and other helpers) as approximately 250; hundreds of other locals attend the event and host guests from off-island.
Over the years, Dunsmore has seen many hobby crafters use the Faire as a stepping stone toward launching a business. Through their experience setting up and staffing a booth, talking to and observing their peers and interacting with clients, participants get a crash course in marketing over the weekend; they gain confidence, make business contacts, and often, come away inspired.
The event brings in money not just for the vendors, but also for the community non-profit groups which run the food concessions and sell raffle tickets and other goods. All their profits go to worthy causes ranging from children’s orphanages in Nepal to local land conservation.
As well, the children’s table brings kids out to take part in the ‘adult’ world, giving them a chance to experience the value of their efforts, practice business skills, and be recognized for their work. Oh—and have fun, too. After their shifts, many of the children gather up their earnings and cruise the Faire to get presents for their parents.
“It’s not just about economic enhancement, it’s about bonding in the community,” says Dunsmore.
The deep community roots of the event are part of what attracts so many visitors from outside of Denman Island as well. People are thrilled to experience such a vibrant alternative to mass consumption of mass produced goods.
“In typical gift shopping, you go out to a big centre and look for the best bargain. You generally have no idea where it was made or by who. At the Craft Faire, everything you buy has the added value of relationship,” says Dunsmore. Artisans at the Faire are required to staff their own tables; for shoppers, being able to buy something directly from the person who made it is both fun and meaningful.
As evidenced by the recent interest in local eating, more and more people these days are looking for authenticity, personal connection, and environmental sustainability in their lives—all of which the Craft Faire doles out a-plenty.
“There’s a hand-made revolution going on right now,” says Denman artisan and Craft Faire exhibitor Bronwyn Simons, who along with her partner Bob runs Terra Home, producer of exquisite art tiles and hand-built tableware.
“We’re paying more attention to where things come from and what they’re made of. Is it sustainable? Is it ethical? Does it have enduring value? Does it connect me with others in a positive way? Is it special and unique? A well and lovingly hand-made object usually answers ‘yes’ to all these questions,” says Simons.
Dunsmore agrees. “Appreciation of the value of handcrafted objects has waxed and waned over the decades. Right now interest is high,” she says.
The Denman Craft Faire, she says, just gets more and more popular. “I do keep statistics, and the revenue has increased every year, except for the year with the big snowfall. And we made up the difference the next year, which was fantastic.”
Dunsmore says she has three favorite Craft Faire moments that recur each year. “The first great moment is at about 10-to-10 on the Saturday morning, when we are just about to open. I’m in the Community Hall. There’s a large surge of visitors at the doors; the guards are preventing them from getting in. Everything is looking pretty good; the crises are mostly over. I stand back and look around me and say to myself, ‘This is all quite beautiful.’ I know that mostly, my job is done. Now it’s up to the artists,” she says.
Her second favorite moment comes soon after closing time later that day. The vendors have tidied up and gone home to rest; the night attendant (someone is needed to ensure the thousands of dollars worth of merchandise stays safe) doesn’t come till later. Dunsmore is alone, surrounded by an absolutely amazing collection of arts and crafts, like a kid in a candy store accidentally left behind after hours.
“I make my way around the two empty halls, taking my time, and I memorize what I want. The next morning, once we’re open, I go around and buy it all,” she says.
The third special moment is very simple: on Sunday afternoon, as the Faire moves into its final hour or two, Dunsmore makes the rounds of both halls handing out Japanese oranges to the vendors. She has processed applications from each and every one of them, answered their questions and promoted their goods; some of them she has coached through their first-ever craft sales experience; others she has seen grow as artists and entrepreneurs for almost three decades. Everyone is exhausted, and usually exhilarated as well. The orange provides a bit of sweet juicy energy to help make it through to the end.
It’s a small gesture that always elicits big smiles. It’s become a tradition, in a relatively short time—just like the Craft Faire itself.
The Denman Island Christmas Craft Faire takes place Saturday, Dec 5th, and Sunday, Dec 6th, from 10:00 am to 4:00 pm at the Denman Community Hall and the Seniors’ Hall. Visitors from Vancouver Island are invited to leave their cars at the Buckley Bay Ferry Terminal and walk onto the ferry, thus saving money and avoiding ferry line-ups. From the Denman terminal, it’s a short walk up the hill to the site, or take the Faire’s shuttle service which runs continually from the ferry to the Faire.
I arrive at Stonecroft Farm, what is ed
in Merville, this web
on a frosty weekday morning and, as I step out of the car I am greeted by turkey gobbles. A big Rottweiler, fast asleep in the driveway, hasn’t even noticed my arrival. But the turkeys—hundreds of them—follow my every move with wave after wave of gobble, gobble, gobble!
I scan the collection of red and white barns and quickly spot one of the farm’s owners, Kathy Beaton. She walks toward me with a pumpkin under each arm and a smile on her face. We meet in front of an outdoor pen full of white and grey turkeys, who watch us suspiciously.
“Just a minute,” Beaton says as she hurls the pumpkins, one by one, over the high fence. The big birds scatter like a tidal wave and then, a split second later, scurry back to where the pumpkins have landed with a splat. The birds chatter excitedly as they gobble up the feast of pumpkin flesh and seeds. In their little bird brains, I imagine, the danger of the flying orange orbs has long been forgotten.
Although I have come to Stonecroft Farm to talk turkey with Kathy Beaton, I soon learn that this beautiful 47-acre parcel of land is more than just a turkey farm. In addition to 1,500 turkeys, there are also 2,000 Chukar partridges, 2,000 ring-necked pheasants and a peacock. The peacock, Beaton says with a chuckle, was a stray that simply appeared a few years ago on Mother’s Day. No one in her family will admit to having brought it home!
There is also a retired Peruvian Paso horse meandering about the farmyard, a handful of beef cattle and a couple of dairy cows in a distant pasture. And then there is the resident Rottweiler, who has finally noticed me, along with a couple of wire-haired terriers to round out the menagerie.
Stonecroft Farm, Beaton explains, has been a labour of love for her and her husband, Glen, and their four children—Brad, Kari, Don and Vasil—for almost 30 years. When they bought the land in 1980 it was nothing but logging slash and scraggly alder. Today, it is a fully operational mixed farm with facilities to raise turkeys from incubation to market weight, a poultry processing facility, expansive pheasant runs, a huge vegetable garden, a commercial blueberry patch and two homes. Son Brad, his wife Casey, and their two young children live in one house; Glen and Kathy live in the other.
“Both Glen and I grew up on farms,” explains Beaton. “I was born and raised in the Comox Valley and Glen moved here from Cayley, Alberta. Both of us had always had an interest in poultry and it was easy to get started with that. Raising poultry required a lower capital investment than other types of livestock. Initially, we started with fancy chickens and pheasants but soon found out there wasn’t a real market for the chickens. So, when my father asked if we could raise 400 tom turkeys for him we agreed to give it a try.”
In many ways, that was a pivotal turning point for the farm’s future. The turkeys, Beaton explains, are direct descendants of her grandfather Harry Gunter’s birds—prize-winning Broad-Breasted Bronzes. A framed certificate from 1949 honoring Harry Gunter with a “Master Turkey Breeder” Award is hung with pride in the Beaton’s turkey processing building.
Harry Gunter immigrated to Canada from England in the 1930s, eventually settling in the Comox Valley. He started a beef cattle operation just off the Old Island Highway north of Courtenay and, a few years later, opened a butcher shop/abattoir, Gunter’s Meats. When he won a trio of turkeys as a prize in a turkey shoot in 1932, Grandfather Gunter began raising turkeys, too.
Years later, his son Bob and his wife Bev bought the adjacent farm and raised their family—and tons of turkeys—there. Sixty years later, both farms and Gunter’s Meats are still owned and operated by members of her large extended family, Beaton says proudly. She and Glen, however, are the only ones still raising turkeys.
Although the flock of turkeys before me looks like any other destined for roasting pans in the Valley, they are unique in that they represent four generations of Comox Valley farmers and more than 75 generations of Comox Valley turkeys! The Beaton’s grandchildren make up the fifth up and coming generation of farmers.
The lineage of the Beltsville Small White turkeys dates back to the early 1930s and is the result of efforts to produce a white turkey, without black pinfeathers. The Broad-Breasted Bronzes trace their roots to the 1900s, when European birds were crossed with wild American stock. This resulted in a turkey that was larger and more robust than the European turkeys, but tamer than the wild ones from North America.
The bloodline, Beaton says, is something she is very proud of and is, in her words, “irreplaceable.” Both breeds are now recognized as “extremely rare” and listed as Heritage Breeds by the American Livestock Breeders Conservatory.
To be designated as Heritage Turkeys, you must be able to prove that the turkeys have resulted from natural mating of both its parents and grandparents. It is interesting to note that, due to their large size, commercial hybrid turkeys have lost the ability to mate naturally. They are bred by artificial insemination. The Heritage Breeds are also renowned for having a long, productive outdoor lifespan, and a slow to moderate growth rate. They reach an average market size—15-20 pounds for hens and 30 pounds for toms—in about 28 weeks. A 20-pound bird is considered by turkey growers to be the perfect size.
This impressive history is one of the reasons Stonecroft turkeys are sold as free-range, but are not certified organic. “While I don’t use pesticides, growth hormones or medications as a routine practice,” Beaton says, “I need to know that if my birds do become sick, I can medicate them if necessary. I can’t risk losing the bloodline.”
Of the hundreds of turkeys being fattened for Christmas dinner at Stonecroft, there is one pen of about 60 birds that have been carefully selected as breeding stock for the next generation. They have been handpicked for their solid structure and healthy vigor and will produce about 1,000 eggs that will be incubated at Stonecroft next spring.
The turkey hens start laying eggs in early March and the eggs are collected and stored until there are enough to incubate. Although not all will hatch, batches of about 300 eggs a time are placed in the incubators every two weeks. Much to the delight of the grandchildren, they hatch in 28 days.
But not all of the turkeys on the Beaton’s farm have such impressive pedigrees. They also buy about 800 commercial hybrid turkey poults (the proper name for ‘chicks’) from agricultural suppliers each year. Like the farm-bred birds, these poults are first nurtured in barns and then, once fully feathered and big enough to be allowed outdoors, they are turned out to range freely in securely fenced pens during the day. For safety’s sake, all are kept in barns at night and during episodes of inclement weather.
Some of the turkeys are ready for processing in early October, just in time for Thanksgiving. The rest—except for the 60 or so breeders that are cared for over the winter—are destined for Christmas dinners. Stonecroft has all of the facilities to slaughter, pluck, clean and package the turkeys according to strict food safety standards. In addition to family members pitching in to help, they bring in a seasonal staff of about six people to help with the process. Turkeys are sold directly to the consumer at the farm gate, as well as supplied wholesale to local specialty food stores.
The Beatons manage their turkey operation under a licensing and quota system relegated by the Canadian Turkey Marketing Agency (CTMA), which works in cooperation with the BC Turkey Marketing Board and other provincial associations. Stonecroft is allocated 15,000 live kilograms a year, which translates into about 1,500 turkeys. It is a number they are satisfied with, since they have no desire to grow their operation any bigger. “Eventually, the kids might want to expand operations,” says Glen Beaton, “but Kathy and I are -content with the number of birds we are permitted to raise.”
The pheasants and partridges raised at Stonecroft fall under a different category. They are able to raise these “exotic” fowl because they have a permit from BC Ministry of Environment & Wildlife. They are brought to the farm on contract from a local sportsman’s club. The chicks arrive at the farm in the early spring, are raised to full adult size with minimal human contact, and then transported to other areas and released into the wild.
When the Beatons look back over a lifetime on the farm, and look forward to the future, they say they find it very gratifying to stand back and see what they have created at Stonecroft Farm.
“Certainly, the industry has changed and we have had to change along with it,” says Kathy Beaton. “Thirty years ago, people just wanted a turkey. Today, they want to know how it has been raised and where it is coming from… and I think that is a good thing.”
Thanks to the Bird Flu and other communicable diseases that have attracted global attention, it is also now necessary to stop the potential spread of disease from one farm to the next. Bio-security is something that all farmers now have to be hyper-vigilant about. Accurate records must be kept on the sale and purchase of live animals and feeds, visitors must sign in, and certain areas of the barns have restricted access. This is something that certainly wasn’t a concern when the Gunter family began raising turkeys more than 60 years ago.
“It has been a tremendous amount of work and it hasn’t always been easy,” says Beaton. “But it is a great feeling of accomplishment. And it is great to now watch our grandchildren’s delight when they accompany me to the barns to collect eggs, watch poults hatch or pick up baby birds.
“We all wish the absolute best for our kids and work hard hoping they will have it a little better than we did,” she adds. “Multigenerational farming certainly gives the next generation a head start in putting a product to market and making a business work, but there has to be far more to it because there are much easier ways to make a living!”
Brad Beaton, who has made the decision to be a key part of Stonecroft’s succession plan, agrees. In addition to helping with all farm operations, he also holds down a full-time job. Despite the effort, he has no regrets.
“We moved to the farm when I was three years old,” recalls Brad. “I fondly remember ‘helping’ my dad clear land with an old Cat dozer. As time advanced, so did my ability to actually be of some use! I recall those early days as a time of great construction, with many large barns being built while our family of five lived in a 750-square-foot garage. I have very fond memories of that little place, with a woodstove that could heat it up to well past cozy! We lived a simple country life and, even though I do recall complaining about my chores from time to time, I always enjoyed the farm life and seeing the fruits of our labor.
“I want to give my kids the same lifestyle and opportunities I had growing up on the farm,” he adds. “My parents were still wanting to farm and I definitely could not afford to buy a whole farm on my own. Together, we came up with a plan that seemed to work for everyone.”
In April 2009, Brad and Casey sold their home and moved into the main farmhouse at Stonecroft. Glen and Kathy moved into a new home they had just built on the farm. The new house, says Brad with a laugh, “is a convenient distance away from the main farm house. I believe no neighbor should be within shotgun range, even family!”
So far, it appears the move to the farm was an excellent decision. Their daughter, Caley, who will be five years old next year, is eager to help with farm chores and her eyes light up when she gets to help operate the Bobcat.
“As Caley and my son Matthew get older,” says Brad, “they will be introduced to age-appropriate work experience. They will be taught everything from operating and maintaining equipment to construction, in addition to your typical farm animal husbandry and horticulture, just like I was.”
“Our farm life is not easy,” concludes Brad, “but we definitely have it easier than my parents did! Hopefully, when our kids look back on their upbringing they will be proud of what their efforts have helped accomplish, and they will have a sense of belonging to something bigger than just themselves. I’m proud of my farm family heritage and am honored to carry on and keep Stonecroft Farm in the family.”