When Broccoli Harvesting Turns Shit

Another amusing travel and work story coming up now. I can laugh about this when I look back even if it is rather disgusting. So one day at work in a broccoli farm, I needed a shit…

A few years back I landed a job working on a number of broccoli farms in Tasmania, I was all over the place on unknown and remote farms and II genuinely had fun doing it!

So when you work in broccoli cutting a tractor follows you down never ending rows of the green vegetable and your job is to slice it, de-leaf it and throw it into the box. You’re kind of stuck on each row doing your job, so you don’t want to leave the row, even if you need to go to the toilet. You can carry water with you and drink it at the end of each row, where you can also have a quick piss while the tractor turns around. I admit this is a bit easier for a guy than a girl.

So one day I was on a big farm in a place called East Sassafras, northern Tasmania. There was a hill in the field, and beyond the hill you would be miles away from the base. The base is where you park you car, munch your lunch and yes, there is a portable toilet there! I had become quite an experienced broccoli cutter…

This story is taken from the 18th March 2010. I know that because the previous night was St. Patrick’s Night and I was down the local Irish Pub Molly Malone’s partying with Chaz Fitzsimmons, also a Northern Irishman living in Tasmania.

The morning ran smoothly however and from 7am to 1pm we worked before having a quick lunch. Just after lunch and we had got half way through a long row of broccoli when I realised I needed a shit – yes it was ready to come out. Our boss was Rebecca Gaby and she was alongside us that day so I shouted over to her that I needed to go. So off I went – initially running all the way towards the portable toilet before realising it was too far to go, so time had beaten me…

Just after taking my trousers and boots off I used leaves from broccoli plants to clean my bum. It wasn’t really enough so my underpants had to be used as toilet roll and were then dumped in behind a tree near the fence. Just then my team and tractor arrived back at the top of the hill. They had known I had ran to take a shit, but now they could see me running with my trousers down desperately trying to make it back to cut more broccoli.

It was a decent day in the field apart from that incident. That night, I obviously washed all of my clothes, suddenly admitting that I couldn’t tell the difference between mud and shit. Don’t Stop Living!

Want to find out more about broccoli farming travel stories, then visit Jonny Blair’s site on how to work and travel with the odd shit broccoli story around the world.