Friday, June 25, 2021
CapitalPress.com 11
Bill: ‘I don’t see how Oregon can avoid this’
Continued from Page 1
hours per week in 2024.
Rep. Andrea Salinas,
D-Lake Oswego, said that
“everybody thought the bill
was dead” but she proposed
the amendment to pro-
vide justice for farm work-
ers while alleviating the
economic burden on their
employers.
“It won’t make them
whole by any stretch but it
will help them transition,” she
said during a June 16 legisla-
tive hearing.
The $100 million would be
overseen by the Oregon Busi-
ness Development Depart-
ment, which would pay eli-
gible farmers for 80% of the
amount they spent on overtime
in 2022, 2023 and 2024. Prior-
ity would go to farmers who
paid the highest proportion of
their net income in overtime
and who employed fewer than
25 workers per year.
Requiring farmers to pay
overtime wages may cause
a shift to mechanization or
drive some crops out-of-state
but it’s ultimately what’s fair
to workers, Salinas said.
With the neighboring
states of Washington and Cal-
ifornian ending the agricul-
tural overtime exemption, “I
don’t see how Oregon can
avoid this,” she said.
Rep. Daniel Bonham,
R-The Dalles, said there is
“broad recognition that some-
thing should be done” about
the agricultural overtime
exemption, but he would pre-
fer that a task force issue rec-
ommendations for change
later this year.
For example, farm work-
ers could be paid overtime
wages after 40 hours per
week except for the harvest
periods for specific labor-in-
tensive crops, he said. “Some-
thing like that could be a com-
promise solution.”
Establishing a task force is
“not an intention to dodge” the
issue but would “deal thought-
fully with the unintended con-
sequences,” said Rep. Chris-
tine Drazan, R-Canby.
Farmers must accept mar-
ket prices for crops and live-
stock, unlike other industries
that can raise prices to com-
pensate for Oregon’s stricter
labor regulations, she said.
“That isn’t how this industry
works.”
Spinach: ‘It’s the constant struggle with Mother Nature’
Continued from Page 1
Around 2012, they started
selling to Central Market,
one of six stores in a regional
grocery chain, Town &
Country Markets Inc.
As the farm grew, the cou-
ple wanted to sell to more
stores. But delivering the
produce seemed daunting.
That’s when Joe Pulicic-
chio, director of produce
and floral at Town & Coun-
try Markets, introduced the
farmers to Pacific Coast Fruit
Co., a regional distributor
based in Portland, Ore., with
a second warehouse in Kent,
Wash., near Seattle.
“We didn’t want to be in
the trucking business, so it
made sense,” said Wailand.
Scroll ahead five years.
On May 27, 2021, the crew
at the Wailands’ farm har-
vested a field block of spin-
ach, packaged it in boxes
with tracking numbers and
stored it.
Even before harvest, the
Dharma Ridge farmers had
invested time and money in
this crop.
Wailand estimates that
for a single, 24-count box of
spinach, the farm spent $2.26
on the box; $8 on labor, 40
cents on fertilizer, crop pro-
tection and seed; 10 cents
each on fuel and early-sea-
son irrigation; and a few dol-
lars, perhaps $3, on overhead
including leases, equipment
payments, utilities, insurance
and certifications. This adds
up to $13.86 spent per box,
or 58 cents per bunch.
DAY TWO Thursday,
May 28
Dharma Ridge Organic
Farm
Quilcene, Wash.
6:15 a.m.
“Let’s load ‘er up.”
The voice belonged to
Martin Rowland, a Pacific
Coast truck driver.
Wailand, the farmer, used
his forklift to hoist a pal-
let, Lot No. 8525, into the
semi-truck.
Historically, it’s been
common in many states to
separate the roles of grower,
loader, shipper, receiver, dis-
tributor and retailer, with
each role assigned to a differ-
ent company or contractor.
But recently, especially in
the Pacific Northwest, supply
chains have become increas-
ingly consolidated. Now, a
farmer might grow, harvest,
package and deliver to a dis-
tributor. Or, a retailer might
own a distribution center and
coordinate loading, transport
and offloading. Additionally,
organic and conventional
supply chains — once sepa-
rate — are merging.
The scene at Dharma
Ridge reflected this. Wailand
loaded the spinach; Pacific
Coast handled the rest.
The morning air was cold
and damp, but Rowland, the
driver, stood in shorts and a
T-shirt, his tattooed arms and
legs exposed. He had been
making deliveries to retail-
ers through the night and was
returning to Pacific Coast’s
warehouse in Kent. This
backhaul was his final stop.
Pacific Coast managers
say they’re lucky to have
Rowland when the truck
Sierra Dawn McClain/Capital Press
Jerry Vanisko, Pacific Coast Fruit Co.’s quality assurance manager, checks the tem-
perature and weight of the spinach. He then looks for discoloration, yellowing, limp
or flabby pieces.
driver shortage has reached
a “crisis level” and freight
rates are double or triple the
usual cost.
“The driver shortage is
getting acute,” said David
Nemarnik, CEO of Pacific
Coast.
Many companies have
raised wages as an incentive,
sometimes entering into bid-
ding wars for drivers. These
trucking expenses are passed
on to consumers.
On the road
6:30 a.m.
Produce loaded, the truck
began its two-hour journey.
Rowland drove through
battering rain — past hill-
sides freckled with daisies
and mustard-yellow Scotch
broom, over the Hood Canal
Floating Bridge, toward
Seattle’s heart.
This is Rowland’s favorite
part of his job: “the beautiful
Washington drives.”
Pacific Coast Fruit Co.
Kent, Wash.
9 a.m.
The truck arrived at a
receiving dock at Pacific
Coast’s 85,000-square-foot
facility.
Inside, the warehouse
buzzed with activity: special-
ists grading apricots, employ-
ees zipping by on forklifts,
produce buyers in reflective
vests calling out instructions.
An employee unloaded
the pallet of spinach the
Capital Press was follow-
ing, dropping it in a spacious
room kept at 34 degrees
Fahrenheit — penetrating,
finger-numbing cold.
Within minutes, employ-
ees had unraveled plastic
wrap, documented lot num-
bers and slapped stickers on
the load signifying which
slot in the warehouse the pro-
duce was destined for.
It was grading time.
Jerry Vanisko, quality
assurance manager, opened
a software application on his
tablet to help him generate a
grade, or quality level, for the
spinach.
To randomize sampling,
Vanisko pulled one box from
the stack’s top, one from the
middle and one from the
bottom.
He opened the first box,
letting its content spill out
onto a counter: perky bunches
of spinach with vibrant,
spoon-shaped leaves.
“Beautiful. Would you
look at that? Just beautiful,”
he said. The corners of his
eyes crinkled.
He weighed the spinach,
checked its temperature, then
Sierra Dawn McClain/Capital Press
Central Market in Poulsbo, Wash., one of the six Town &
Country Market stores in the Greater Seattle Area.
David
Nemarnik
Sierra Dawn McClain/Capital Press
Zach Wailand loads a pallet of spinach and cilantro box-
es into a Pacific Coast Fruit Co. truck.
followed software prompts,
answering questions about
any discoloration, yellowing,
limpness, mold or decay. The
spinach got a top grade.
He then photographed the
spinach: images that could
be retrieved later in case of
complaints.
Vanisko walks a tightrope
every day as he grades. If
he’s too strict, he could hurt
farmers by throwing out too
much product. If he’s too lax,
he could upset retailers and
consumers.
“When I first started
working here, I looked at
everything through the pro-
duce manager’s eye. I was
much pickier,” said Vanisko,
who used to work as a retail
produce buyer and has been
in the industry more than 40
years. “Now, I’ve got multi-
ple customers to please.”
Tom Brugato, Pacific
Coast’s president, said the
company tries to hire people
with industry experience.
“I think our claim to fame
has been hiring the right peo-
ple,” said Brugato.
But food employees in
general are hard to find, he
said. The labor shortage is a
perennial, and intensifying,
challenge across the entire
food chain.
Pacific Coast’s leaders
got into the industry through
family. Nemarnik’s father
started the company in 1977.
Brugato married Nemarnik’s
sister, bringing him into the
fold.
“Did I choose it or did it
choose me? I’m not sure,”
said Brugato.
He laughed.
It was time for the pallet
of spinach to move to its slot.
At Pacific Coast, produce
is organized by atmosphere.
Wet produce, such as lettuce,
is stored in the “wet” room
with a mist machine and the
air temperature near freez-
ing. Each room thereafter
is warmer and drier, all the
way to the “tropical” room,
where fruits such as mangoes
are stored. Each room car-
ries its own smells of ripen-
ing produce.
Even after produce is
settled at its “temporary
address,” there’s work to be
done, said Jenny Williams, a
category produce buyer.
To her left, a man, sur-
rounded by box-towers
resembling a city skyline,
was ripening bananas.
Everywhere, boxes were
stacked on wooden pallets.
Several recent events have
led to lumber shortages, and
in turn, to a 400% increase
in pallet costs, according to
the United Fresh Produce
Association.
But, Williams said, Pacific
Coast can’t ditch using pal-
lets. USDA requires pallet
use for food safety.
“We pay by the pal-
let, which translates into us
passing on our costs,” said
Williams.
By mid-morning, Wil-
liams, along with Joe Han-
son, Washington division
president, were gearing up
for the deluge of retail orders
expected around 2 p.m.
Williams can generally
predict what retailers will
order and meet their needs.
But sometimes, there isn’t
enough supply.
“It’s the constant struggle
with Mother Nature,” said
Williams. “You try to do the
best you can, but you can’t
beat her.”
When
there’s
more
demand than supply, Wil-
liams sells a smaller portion
to each retailer.
The company employs
more than 450 people and
buys from hundreds of farms
across the West, but its lead-
Tom
Brugato
ers say they like to keep rela-
tionships personal.
“It still feels like a hand-
shake business in many
ways,” said Nemarnik, the
CEO.
A call comes in, and a
buyer writes a purchase order
for a $90,000 load of avoca-
dos — no contract, based on
trust.
In contrast, national dis-
tribution chains are more
formalized.
A.G.
Kawamura,
a
third-generation California
grower who sells through
GEM Pack Berries LLC
to national chains includ-
ing Walmart, Costco, Safe-
way and Kroger, said in the
1980s, most orders were con-
tract-less, over the phone.
Now, he said, most “program
orders” are online.
Some workers thrive on
logistics.
Williams, the category
buyer, said she enjoys the
adrenaline of planning. “I’m
very OCD,” she said of her
attention to detail.
The best feeling, she
said, is seeing a “good rota-
tion” — like when there
are more orders for onions
than cases available, but
then an inbound truck drops
off more onions in the nick
of time.
“It feels good to see the
produce go,” she said, “that
moment when you think:
‘It’s on its way.’”
DAY THREE Friday,
May 29
Pacific Coast Fruit Co.
Kent, Wash.
1 a.m.
Spinach Lot No. 8525 sat
in the warehouse the remain-
der of the day.
The next morning, it
moved again. This time,
Pacific Coast delivered to
Poulsbo, a tourist town on
Liberty Bay along Puget
Sound.
The spinach had trav-
eled many hours and miles,
yet this journey was highly
localized compared to many
supply chains across the U.S.
Central Market
Poulsbo, Wash.
3:30 a.m.
Inside Central Market,
employees
pulled apart
boxes, doc-
umented the
order and put
the spinach in
the organic
A.G.
section’s wet
Kawamura display case.
The price tag:
$3.98 per bunch.
There
are
many
expenses behind the scenes
beyond obvious ones like
water and labor, said Joe
Pulicicchio, director of
produce and floral: the
overhead for the building,
cooler expenses, even card-
board, the cost of which is
“off the chart.”
Pulicicchio said he’s
passionate about helping
farmers succeed. But as
a retailer, he has to make
everyone happy: grower,
distributor and consumer.
On the one hand, he can’t
make a grower or dis-
tributor feel underpaid.
On the other, he doesn’t
want consumers to feel
price-gouged.
“You have to please
everyone,” he said.
But Pulicicchio said he
enjoys the challenge. It’s a
moving game. No two days
are the same.
“One thing’s for sure:
I’m never bored.”
After 6 a.m., customers
trickled in.
At 6:45, Julie Wuest-
hoff, the produce manager,
arrived for her 7 a.m. shift.
A former chef and food
nonprofit leader, she’s
worked at Central Market
for 15 years.
Eighteen people work
in this section: restocking,
sweeping, straightening,
organizing displays.
“It takes many hands
to maintain this,” said
Wuesthoff.
On the floor, she set to
arranging displays.
Every detail of the dis-
play configuration mat-
ters, said Wuesthoff. Even
a subtle change can impact
sales. Everything is calcu-
lated and considered: color
schemes, spacing between
rows, angles, signage, “sta-
ple” items versus seasonal
impulse buys.
“There’s an art to it,”
she said.
Wuesthoff glanced side-
ways, where a woman was
putting the bunch of spin-
ach into her cart.
“Well, there you go,”
she said. “There’s more to
it than meets the eye.”
Dams: ‘From our perspective, this can only help solve problems in the basin’
Continued from Page 1
began in 2010 as part of the orig-
inal Klamath Hydroelectric Settle-
ment Agreement, or KHSA.
At the time, the KHSA was tied
to another settlement, the Klam-
ath Basin Restoration Agreement,
which would have funded several
projects to provide greater irriga-
tion water security for basin farm-
ers and ranchers.
Congress, however, failed to
implement the agreements prior to
the Jan. 1, 2016, deadline, despite
consensus from federal, state,
county, tribal and agricultural
partners.
Instead, an amended version of
the KHSA went forward in 2016
while the KBRA was left behind.
The split has frustrated farmers and
ranchers, who remain entangled in
legal disputes over water usage
and future irrigation allocations.
This year is especially painful,
as extreme drought prompted the
Bureau of Reclamation to shut off
water to most of the Klamath Proj-
ect in May.
“If that other settlement was in
place right now, our farmers in the
Klamath Basin would have well
over 300,000 acre-feet of water,
instead of no water,” said Dan
Keppen, executive director of the
Family Farm Alliance. “We got
left holding the bag on that.”
The Klamath Water Users
Association, which represents irri-
gators in the Klamath Project, has
no formal position on the amended
KHSA.
However, the group expressed
concern in a memo last year about
whether the return of salmon to
upstream habitat could result in
new regulatory restrictions that
affect water usage, and whether
irrigators might bear increased
operation costs for the Link River
and Keno dams.
“We can hope that this detri-
ment would be overwhelmingly
offset by a water supply benefit,”
the memo states, “But, it is a strong
reason for concern that hope is all
that we can have.”
Meurer, with the KRRC, said
more fish in the river and improved
water quality will ultimately be
good for everyone in the basin.
“From our perspective, this can
only help solve problems in the
basin,” he said.