PALISADE — Mcke Gisi was ready to take a swim. It wasn’t the most typical outdoor activity for an October morning in Northern Minnesota.
But there was next to nothing that was usual about this.
Most people arrived at the Minnesota Cranberry Co. Farm in Palisade for a public viewing of the cranberry harvest on Oct. 8. The company hosted the event to give a window into what it takes to run Minnesota’s only commercial cranberry farm — particularly while family farms are on the decline.
Mcke’s husband, Jack Pease, brought her to fulfill a dream she’d had since she was little.
“When we met, she told me her childhood dream was always to marry a cranberry farmer because then she could swim through the cranberry bog and eat cranberries freely. I'm not a cranberry farmer. I was never able to make that dream come true,” Jack said.
On their eighth anniversary, the couple made their way with their 14-month-old son Ira from Two Harbors for the harvest.
Before her swim, Mcke decided to get a taste of what it felt like to be in the truck as it filled with berries. She stood in the semitrailer with her mouth open, attempting to catch the cranberries as they bounced off her head and landed around her feet. The sound of her husband’s laugh broke through the sound of thudding berries.
“I don’t know if there’s any real or rational explanation. I grew up in the land of corn and soybean farms and a cranberry farm seemed so exotic. Like, so much fun on the back of the Great Grains boxes and the Ocean Spray commercials. It just seemed awesome,” Mcke said.
Then, surrounded by machinery, Mcke stepped in and started to swim.
“It is cold at the bottom, but the muck on top is really warm,” Mcke called to shore as she swam through the bog.
When she stepped out of the water, Mcke gave her assessment of the swim.
“Oh man! That is a hoot. ... It was like I was a giant in a ball pit.”
Jack was up next. He hadn’t planned on joining Mcke, but he lost a bet earlier that morning and wouldn’t be staying dry.
“Crannonball!” he yelled as he jumped into cranberries with a splash.
It just might have been the state’s first ever “crannonball.”
Nathan Foster, 18, has been the farm’s operations manager for the last two years. He said he’d seen “crannonballs” on the internet but never in Minnesota.
“It's definitely Minnesota's first, because I've never done it,” he said.
Nathan is the son of Randy and Billie Jo Forster, who own the farm. He and his three sisters grew up in Aitkin County and regularly came out to the farm.
For those who preferred to watch the harvest rather than jump right in, the public viewing offered an educational opportunity to learn about cranberry farming — and bust some cranberry myths.
For instance, cranberries don’t grow in water. The fields are filled with water for the harvest.
“We only really flood three times a year. One for pest management in the spring, and then we flood for harvest, obviously. And then in the winter, we flood to protect the vines from ice and frost,” Nathan said.
And while you’ll probably find a spider or two, they’re not brimming with spiders during the harvest like a widespread internet misconception perpetuates.
To prepare for the harvest, farmers let a few inches of water into the fields and agitate the plants, knocking the berries off the vines. Then, they let more water in, sending a berry blanket floating across the water.
“After we beat the fields, we come in here and buoy them all up, and then we have this big fish pump here that sucks them all up. We can do it in about 20 minutes, and they all go in the truck and off to Ocean Spray,” Nathan said.
An engine whirred as a hose vacuumed the berries out of the water and above a semitruck. Water flowed one way, and the berries tumbled down a chute in the other direction, falling into the semi.
The berries get shipped to Tomah, Wisconsin, to be cleaned, sorted and frozen. After six months, they’ll be made into juice and other Ocean Spray products.
The good berries are the ones that haven’t frozen before harvesting. They’re firm and open with a crackling noise. Frozen berries will be soft to the touch and lack the crackling noise when opened.
Timing is also key. The pay depends on sugar content, or how sweet the berries are. The farmers want cold nights and warm days right before the harvest. Those conditions raise sugar content. After harvesting, the berries are frozen for six months. The longer they stay frozen, the sweeter they become.
But not everything goes to plan on a farm. Many parts of the process can go awry and jeopardize the harvest.
Fortunately, the Forsters don’t shy away from challenge — the farm was practically built on it.
Randy Forster, one of the farm’s owners and Nathan’s father, took a chance when he bought the land. He’d planned to fly out to see the land before he bought it, but his flight was delayed. He’d only seen a small portion of the property when he bought it.
Although Randy had experienced farming wild rice, he'd never farmed cranberries before.
“He came in blind,” said Randy’s daughter, Amanda Holum.
But even if the Forsters prevailed, life on a family farm isn’t easy — and it certainly isn’t predictable.
The Forsters can’t predict what a season will hold. Some come with fruitful harvests, and others may be plagued with frost and pests.
Nathan said in a good year, they’ll get 150,000 to 200,000 pounds of cranberries. That’s around 17 loaded semitrucks.
“But we froze out here — I think it's now two years ago — so we didn't get much last year or the year before, but now they're starting to come back,” Nathan said.
This year, they’re hoping to have around 20,000 pounds.
Despite the challenges, Randy doesn’t regret it.
“There's always plenty to do, but you know, if I had a chance to do it all over again, I'd do the same thing. … You couldn’t ask for a better life,” Randy said.
Billie Jo said the farm holds a special place for the entire family.
“Everybody always asks me, ‘What would you do different?’ And I said, ‘Definitely, I would not change the fact that my kids grew up on this place,’” Billie Jo said. “My kids are well-rounded, they all chip in when they can. And they'll all give you the idea, of course, it was hard work, and it definitely was. But they all appreciate that.”
She said as teenagers, her kids started making excuses to be on the farm instead of going to football games like everyone else. It has been a place for them to find peace, even now that they’re adults.
Amanda agrees. She said the farm is the place where she finds comfort and relaxation. She pointed to the fact that the children and grandchildren willingly and regularly return to the farm as a sign of what it means to the family.
The significance of family is also visible on literal signs on the farm. Randy started a tradition of naming a field after each of his grandchildren. With each new member of the family, a field gets a sign with the child’s name and date of birth.
“To have your family come back as adults and to watch them do it, I think my dad gets kind of emotional about it. We always say, ‘We're growing crops, but we're also watching our kids grow. We're growing kids, too,’" Amanda said.
Nathan said he hopes allowing the public to view the harvest helps raise awareness of life on family farms.
“It's education. We do a lot of events where we get to talk about everything, but farming's a dying breed. Especially with the travels I do. I always see smaller and smaller farms that get smaller and smaller,” he said.
Some of the children who attended learned what it’s like to pick berries in the dry fields. These berries don’t get flooded and are typically harvested for fresh cranberry products.
“Pretty much like picking blueberries, but way funner and on the ground instead of on, like, trees,” said 8-year-old Rosie.
A homeschool group came with its own immersive math lesson plan. The kids each picked the cranberries from a square foot and used math to calculate how many berries there would be in the whole fields.
They also got to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
“I thought they were gonna be sweet but then I tasted it and I was, like,” Rosie said, scrunching up her face and puckering her lips. “They tasted like apples but sour.”
When asked how he prefers cranberries, Nathan laughed. He drinks apple juice.
Stella Mayerhoff is a Report for America corps member, covering Minnesota’s headwaters region for KAXE in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. Report for America places talented journalists in local newsrooms to report on under-covered issues and regions.
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