The fig tree was conquered 90 years ago. This is how it was done

Farming has been in the Geldard family for four generations, but a plant almost brought them to their knees very soon.

The fig tree is considered one of the largest biological invasions of modern times, as it infested millions of acres of rural land in Australia a century ago and made it virtually useless and worthless.

Chinchilla farmer Ashley Geldard said the story of her great-grandfather Ernest Geldard’s battle against the invasive plague is written in family folklore.

Ashley Geldard’s great-grandfather left his property in the 1920s due to a fig infestation, and returned five years later. (ABC Southern Qld: Pat Heagney)

“He just left the property because the pear was so dense. It basically beat him,” Geldard said.

Change of fortunes

Ernest Geldard began farming in 1909 after moving to Queensland’s Western Downs from Armidale to New South Wales, where his family had a music shop.

“He arrived a little late on the scene and the only country left was a country of brigalow with a lot of wood, which at that time no one wanted because it was a lot of work to open,” Geldard said.

“It didn’t grow much, it was too dense.”

Ernest worked the land for 11 years, but it was not fast enough for the fig tree and he retired back to Armidale in 1920.

Fig infestation devastated large parts of Queensland and NSW during the first part of the 20th century. (Supplied by: Queensland Department of Agriculture and Fisheries)

Mr Geldard said his great-grandfather returned to Chinchilla five years later to find that the cattle he had left were in very good shape, having survived with the fig tree.

Ernest sold them at a decent price and started his dairy farm again.

“We had bottles with ‘walnut poison’ written on them. They tried to poison him, which was a failure,” he said.

“We had burners. There was an old horse – drawn burner that sat against the fence for many years.

“When cactoblastis arrived in the early 1930s, then it was revolutionary in the way they opened it.”

‘Green plague’

When the ABC aired its first program 90 years ago, in 1932, Australia’s “green plague” had already been officially conquered.

It was all thanks to an insect from South America: the moth Cactoblastis cactorum.

In the mid-1920s billions of eggs were released and in a few years biological pest control was hailed as a great success in destroying the plant and revitalizing stagnant municipalities.

According to the Department of Agriculture and Fisheries, such was the success of the cactoblastis that it even became a big screen star in the black and white film The Conquest of the Prickly Pear.

A parade celebrating the control of mountain figs in Brisbane in the 1930s. (Supplied by: Queensland Department of Agriculture and Fisheries)

The first recorded introduction of fig tree was attributed to Governor Phillip at Port Jackson in 1788 to create a cochineal industry for the new colony.

The cochineal was used to make the red dye for the uniforms of British soldiers and they loved to feed on figs.

“Red had been the color of most British Army uniforms for hundreds of years. One of the main reasons was that the color dye was cheap,” said Dr Robyn McFadyen, chair of the Ministerial Advisory Council of Invasive Biosecurity Plants and Animals Queensland.

The cochineal used to make red dye for the uniforms of British soldiers loved to feed on prickly pears. (Supplied by: Jono Searle, Brisbane Museum)

By the 1920s, millions of acres of rustic land were infested with fig trees.

“They later spread all over the place because they made excellent fences that people and animals would not pass through,” Dr. McFadyen said.

“They did, to some extent, drought fodder if the thorns were burned.

“So they considered themselves completely desirable. But unfortunately, they also saw Australia as a desirable force. They thrived in our climate and our soils and spread.”

Early control measures failed to combat the resistant cactus, and in 1901 the Crown offered a reward of £ 5,000 for the discovery of an effective method of control, even doubling it to £ 10,000 in 1907.

But it was never picked up.

It was not until the introduction of the South American cactus moth that fortune spun.

The biocontrol agent cactoblastis was introduced to control the fig tree. (Supplied by: Queensland Department of Agriculture and Fisheries)

“They were released in 1924. That was all they ever wanted: masses and masses of cactus to eat. They really got stuck and there were millions and millions of moths,” Dr. McFadyen said.

By 1932, the moth had caused the general collapse and destruction of most of the original thick suburbs of fig trees, and nearly 7 million acres of previously infested land was made available to settlers.

The moth of the cactoblastis finally controlled the corn infestation. (Supplied by: Queensland Department of Agriculture and Fisheries)

The peoples come back to life

Municipalities such as Chinchilla came back to life after the defeat of the fig tree.

The city even has a special section of its museum dedicated.

“This is where the insect farm was, where all the experimental work was done to develop pear eradication. The eggs were distributed from here,” said Cath Brandon, president of the Pear Museum. Chinchilla.

The locals even named a room after the cactus blast moth.

“The committee was formed to build the hall in Boonargo. A meeting was held and they were going to call the hall by the name of Phar Lap the Horse,” Ms Brandon said.

“But someone said, ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, we’ll name it cactoblastis.’ That’s how Boonargo Cactoblastis Hall was.”

The Chinchilla Museum has an exhibition dedicated to fig infestation. (ABC Southern Qld: Pat Heagney)

The agricultural legacy

After overcoming the country of brigalows and fig infestation, Ernest Geldard’s legacy endures through his great-grandson Ashley.

The era of draft horses has given way to modern machinery, but some memories remain on the family farm, such as an old plow pulled by two-furrowed horses.

This plow turned the first dirt on the Geldard Cullingral property. He is still on the family farm. (Provided by: Ashley Geldard)

And what was once a dairy now produces cotton and grain.

“It’s amazing to see how land use has changed,” Geldard said.

“It’s a very different landscape to the way we’re currently cultivating.”

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