Our Food Forest

Nine years ago, we bought a north facing piece of rainforest on the side of a mountain overlooking the Tasman Sea in Karamea on the West Coast of the South Island, New Zealand.  

We had come from a frosty but lush valley just 12 kilometers up the road where we had spent years transforming a hectare of farmland into an organic self-sufficient haven, complete with orchards, seedling and tunnel houses, a berry zone, and a chicken coop. We loved it but we yearned for the bush and became excited about what more we could grow in a seaside frost-free climate.  

On our new land there was a tiny, cleared space around an even smaller bach, which was dwarfed by thousand-year Rata trees and Nikau palms. To our north was sloping second generation native bush covered in punga, Mamako, Miro, supplejack and a few large Tasmanian Blackwood trees. After navigating our way through this bush one day, we realised that the steepness was more a gentle slope, and that if we cleared the growth and the Tasmanian Blackwoods, we would have a large sunny area to turn into a productive organic food forest.  

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Fast forward to the present day and we have created the ultimate food forest, but not without a lot of blood sweat and tears! ​​

The first thing we had to do was deal with the thick iron pan that was buried under the dense clay soil. In came the digger, along with the local digger driver, and after much scraping and bashing, three large terraces were formed. We requested the driver slope the terraces downwards, and then we sloped the beds on each terrace as well. Coming from a damp valley, we were a bit too obsessed with removing excess water. Little did we know (although it is actually quite obvious) that a hillside garden needs to retain as much water as it can, or else it dries out to its core. It didn't take us long to figure this out however, as every time it rained the precious water would just run off, without our gardens retaining a drop. We had added a lot of organic matter to our beds too which was also just washing away in each downpour. So we backtracked and swaled each garden bed by adding more soil on the northern sides of the terraces, replacing the edging to compensate. It was a lot of extra work and meant we were doing things twice, but it was necessary, and paid off in the end.

Clay soil is thirsty soil, and during those first few years of garden development it felt like I was constantly topping up the beds with compost, sand, woodchips, manure and lime. Even with the swaling the ground can dry out a lot here, so constant mulching is important ~ in summer it can feel like I'm topping up the mulch on a daily basis. 

In those early days, planting fruit trees sometimes meant digging up boulders the size of small cars, which would then require either a digger, or some smart Egyptian style rock tilting technique just so we could utilise them for borders.

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Thankfully all the hard work has now been done, which has allowed us to take a step back and fully appreciate the unique growing environment we have carved out of this amazing rainforest. Terracing the land has allowed for larger trees to be planted on the northern face without fear of them shading the gardens behind. Consequently we have been able to fit a lot of edible shrubs and trees into what is a relatively small space. As well as growing traditionally shaped fruit trees we also have given espaliering a go, with much success. Although espaliering requires heavy pruning, fruit harvests are abundant, and the manicured trees take up next to no room, growing alongside the gardens. 

Terracing has also created different eco systems at different heights; it can be blowing a gale on the top terrace, yet just a few metres down on the second terrace the citrus trees are bathed in warm sun without a breath of wind.   

Stone walls have been constructed to build up different garden areas, giving us warm environments to plant chilis and figs along, or for heat loving strawberries to grow over.   

The wee bach which we lived in while our house was being built has taken on a new life and has been recycled into a seedling house, complete with a ranch slider and a pot belly fire.   

We have also built a 10 metre by 4 metre tunnel house which allows us to grow enough tomatoes for freezing (and  sometimes even sun drying) as well as giving us a constant summer supply of fresh tomatoes and peppers for the kitchen.  

The frost-free climate means we can grow black passionfruit, avocadoes, all manner of citrus, and bananas happily outside, and although its not quite cold enough to grow successful parsnips or blackcurrants, most fruits and vegetables do well.