“Until insurance issues and levee issues are cleared up, that’s a question in people’s minds,” parish President Benny Rousselle said. “How many will replant?”
BY BECKY BOHRER
THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
JESUIT BEND, LA. — Last year’s hurricanes flooded Ben Becnel Sr.’s citrus groves with saltwater, thrashed three of his greenhouses and workers’ quarters and destroyed or otherwise damaged hundreds of orange trees.
And he was one of the lucky ones.
Farther south in Plaquemines Parish, Katrina and Rita laid waste to entire communities, destroying houses and livelihoods and threatening the future of the state’s prized, niche citrus industry.
“We’ve lost a lot before,” with hurricanes and freezing temperatures killing trees, if not groves, agricultural agent Alan Vaughn said. But this is different, he said: “With freezes, you could go back and plant trees. Now, the grove is the low man on the list, when you have to rebuild your house.”
With harvest under way and the parish’s weekend-long orange festival set to begin Friday, farmers like Becnel, with navel oranges and satsuma mandarins to sell, are trying to fill strong demand, while older producers such as 73-year-old Gerald Ragas are struggling to start over.
It will be at least four years until the small trees he replanted to replace some of the 450 trees he lost will begin bearing fruit.
Louisiana’s citrus industry has a cult-like, regional following and is known especially for its navel oranges. The first trees were planted during French colonial times, in the 1700s, but serious farming didn’t begin until the 1850s. Only about 1,330 citrus acres were planted statewide in 2004, tiny when compared to the hundreds of thousands of acres in industry leaders Florida, California and Texas. It’s such a niche market that the U.S. Department of Agriculture only reports on Louisiana’s industry every five years.
Many of Louisiana’s citrus farms are in Plaquemines Parish, where a long finger of Mississippi River delta extends into the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, creating an excellent climate for citrus growing. In 2004, parish farmers produced 405,000 bushels of navels and satsumas, the vast majority of the statewide total, according to the LSU Agricultural Center. Some of the fruit was shipped out of state and to major cities such as Chicago. But most of it was sold closer to home, through word of mouth and from places like roadside stands or regional grocers.
In 2005, the year of the storms, parish production fell to 120,000 bushels — and the market became more localized.
The hurricanes wiped out about half the acreage in Plaquemines, Vaughn said, leaving behind limited oranges and questions about whether the industry, comprised of family farms, can rebound.
“Until insurance issues and levee issues are cleared up, that’s a question in people’s minds,” parish President Benny Rousselle said. “How many will replant?”