Dairy farmer loves lifestyle but plans exit

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Published: March 14, 2002

HARDWOODLANDS, N.S. – Willy Versteeg loves doing what he does, running

a successful dairy farm near this small village northeast of Halifax.

“I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

He also cannot imagine doing it indefinitely. Already, the 41 year old

is talking with wife Sherma, 39, about a succession strategy that may

involve one of their three daughters taking over the farm, called

Barneybrook Farms Ltd.

“I am not going to die here,” Versteeg said. “I can’t see being here

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past 60. I’d like to see the farm continue in the family and I expect

it will, but whether it’s our kids, I don’t know.”

By almost any measure, the Versteegs have a successful farming

operation.

His parents came from Holland in 1952 and bought the farm in 1960. It

was a small and rundown hog and cattle farm. His father switched to

dairy in the mid-1960s, received quota and began to expand.

Willy and Sherma have been involved in the operation since 1987 when

his brother was killed in an on-farm accident. Since 1998, they have

been sole owners.

And the farm has grown well beyond the size of the average dairy farm

in Nova Scotia – 700 acres with 425 acres of crop, quota for 90

kilograms of daily milk production and a milking herd of 84 Holsteins.

They have a debt, in Willy’s words, of “$1 million plus” but revenues

sufficient to comfortably service the debt and the quota, which is

worth almost $2.5 million by current provincial quota prices. A modern

barn, feed mixing operation and renovated 1864 house add further value.

Still, he has seen once-successful neighbours suffer personal trauma

and leave the dairy business penniless.

“We have to plan ahead.”

With the farm big enough to be viable, there are no plans to expand, at

least until one of the daughters indicates an interest in taking over.

Until then, the Versteegs will invest in an off-farm business and

launch a one-acre raspberry business this year, in part to show the

girls how to turn an idea into a business.

It also will be an exercise in teaching the dairy farming family some

marketing skills. He said it is something many dairy farmers should

learn, since marketing is done for them in the current system.

“You can be the crabbiest old … in the world and the milk trucks

still back into your farm every day and takes your milk,” he said.

“That’s not right. We should know a bit more about how to market.”

The comment reflects Versteeg’s philosophy to a ‘T’.

He loves the farm, the lifestyle and the security of the dairy industry

but he’s not there for the lifestyle.

“This is a business and I’m in it for the profit.”

It is why he has never entered the growing dairy trend of signing

contracts for cheap export milk. He thinks it undermines the dairy

industry argument that it needs higher regulated prices in the domestic

market to make a living.

“I’m not into it because Willy has better things to do with his time

than to sell milk at less than its cost of production,” he said.

Although he grew up on the farm, he was the only one of the five

siblings to rule out farming.

“I remember sitting where you are, and my dad was there,” he said,

pointing to another chair at the head of the table. “I said, ‘you’re

crazy to work as hard as you are. This is not for me.’ “

So Versteeg went to trade school, learned carpentry, met Sherma and set

up a successful construction business.

By 1987, when his brother died on the farm, he realized the endless

hours at the business were not worth it. Sherma was driving three hours

a day to her job.

“We had a big house on the hill,” he said. “By outward appearances, we

were making it. But it was no way to live.”

He and a brother ran the farm in partnership. In 1997, he bought out

Patrick, who now farms on Prince Edward Island.

The Nova Scotia farm now produces most of the grain, forage and

soybeans used to feed the cattle.

And he is in a position to tell his kids that despite the long hours,

farming is a good and profitable business.

“I’m an optimist and I believe there is a dollar to be made,” he said.

“We’re lucky in this business. If I was in grain, it would be

irresponsible to send that message to your kids.”

Still, Willy and Sherma are beginning to plan their exit from the

industry.

“You never know when one of us isn’t going to be here and if you leave

without a plan, you could end up with nothing,” he said.

About the author

Barry Wilson

Barry Wilson is a former Ottawa correspondent for The Western Producer.

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