With snow laying thick on the ground outside, Mark Lumley lays a palm on the globe in the corner of his no-nonsense farm office and gives the world a spin. “This is exactly how it started,” Lumley admits. “I was just so cheesed off with winter. I wanted to see the sun. I wanted to see the sun so bad.”
As the mission statement for a business plan, this is hardly the high-flown prose that most bankers like to read. But it’s likely more honest, which means it’s exactly Lumley’s style. And as a way of setting goals and measuring results, it’s also very successful.
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“I was in Uruguay four times last year alone — twice with my family, once with just my wife and once on my own,” Lumley says. “Each trip was three or four weeks, and there’s all that sunlight, and the people are so great… I can’t tell you how much it adds to our lives.”
“Besides,” adds Lumley, “doing business there is awesome.”
Lumley has a history of making his mind up for himself. In fact, it’s that refusal to fit traditional models that may have been the best preparation for his South American adventure.
Lumley was born and raised on his parents’ farm southeast of Sarnia, Ont. where his father Reg operated a thriving 1,200-acre swine farm. Lumley knew he could be part of the farm, but he wanted nothing to do with it, especially the pigs.
So instead of going to ag school, Lumley enrolled at the nearby University of Western Ontario and got, of all things, a fine arts degree in music, after which he went to teachers college and accepted a job teaching music to high-school students in the heart of Toronto.
Within a couple years, Reg started talking more about wanting to slow down. Wouldn’t Mark consider coming back to the farm? “Maybe,” said Mark, although there were still those pigs. So as a first step, Mark and wife Anne Marie moved to Petrolia, a town of 5,000 about a 10-minute drive from the farm. He took a half-time job teaching, and agreed to work on the farm as well.
The farm bug bit. Lumley steadily increased his involvement, and in 2000, he quit teaching altogether… when his father quit pigs. “That’s why we chose our name,” Lumley grins. “It’s Fair Wind Farms.”
Since then, the farm has incorporated, Mark has taken the reins, and he has grown the farm to 4,000 acres, mainly devoted to corn, soybeans, wheat and sugar beets. He has also developed a thriving snow plow business, and he has accepted other postings, including an ongoing directorship on the board of Michigan Sugar Company, and a position on Syngenta Seeds’ Grower Council.
A Partnership Based On Cropping And Machinery Gives Lumley What He Wants — Winter In The Sun
By 2002, however, the winters on a cash crop farm were beginning to seem long. The January days were also seeming altogether too short. And all the while, that globe on its bracket in the corner of his office seemed to beckon.
Lumley insists that he really did give ithe world a spin that day, asking himself, if he could spend serious time somewhere in the south, where would he go?
He considered New Zealand and possibly Australia, but they’re so far away. Then he thought momentarily of Africa, but quickly crossed it off the list too.
That left South America. But where would he choose in South America? Lumley checked some books. He searched the Internet. What he would need, he thought, is a country that he could be comfortable in, plus one with a good climate, good soils, low crime and stable government.
“Hmm…” he remembers saying. “Maybe Uruguay.” Uruguay, with its population of three million, is often called the Switzerland of South America. It’s a nickname that it has earned for good reasons, includinnovat
ing its open approach to foreigners, and the relatively large numbers of ethnically Swiss and Germans who live there.
Besides, there was another attraction to Uruguay. Uruguay sits beside the much larger Argentina in much the same way that Canada borders the U. S.
Soon, Lumley learned that a group of farmers from near Chatham, Ont., had tried farming in Uruguay about 20 years earlier. Lumley contacted one of the group, Brian Fox, to learn more. The plan hadn’t really worked as well they had hoped, Fox told Lumley.
The Canadian group had bought some land and were figuring out how to farm it. They avoided the extremes that a group Australians for instance had gone to, buying land and telling themselves they could farm it without any help from the locals, until they foundered.
Still, the Canadians grappled with learning how to succeed without a safety net in a different country with a different language, different ways of doing things, and a different and sometimes volatile economic climate.
Lumley agreed that the Australian plan had a fatal flaw. “Really, it’s American,” he says. “It’s arrogant. How would we like it if someone came here and said they knew how to farm our ground much better than we do ourselves?”
There must, Lumley thought, be a way to do business by tapping into the skills of Uruguayan farmers, not trying to shove them aside.
Lumley asked Fox to accompany him to Uruguay to meet some of the contacts that Fox had made two decades earlier. “The great thing,” says Lumley, “is that his contacts had had their own children. There were people there my own age, and they were ready to talk.”
In particular, Lumley met Gabriel Carballal, a distant relative of one of Fox’s contacts. “We hit if off instantly,” Lumley says. “We were two people out of the same mold, just on opposite sides of the planet.”
There was also a potentially good business fit. Carballal was rapidly growing his cropping, especially his corn and soybean production. But that was a challenge. Uruguay was making a transition from a pasture-based beef agriculture to cropping, which meant there was little equipment on hand, especially used combines.
Even more important, there were almost no North American combines, set for large acreages of corn and soy harvesting.
Lumley had looked into Uruguayan crop production. In many ways, it was similar to what he did at home. The soils were similar, the season was similar and the varieties were similar too. “It wasn’t like parts of Brazil, where I wouldn’t have a clue how to farm,” Lumley says. “Even so, I wouldn’t know how to sell beans in Uruguay. There’s a lot of the business on the ground that I simply couldn’t do.”
So Carballal and Lumley intensified their discussions. Later that year, Lumley bought his first used U. S. combine and shipped it to Uruguay. It involved a lot of learning to ship a combine that’s bigger than a container, Lumley agrees. It also took time to figure out how to work with brokers, and when not to.
But out of that connection, Carballal
ing its open approach to foreigners, and the relatively large numbers of ethnically Swiss and Germans who live there.
Besides, there was another attraction to Uruguay. Uruguay sits beside the much larger Argentina in much the same way that Canada borders the U. S.
Soon, Lumley learned that a group of farmers from near Chatham, Ont., had tried farming in Uruguay about 20 years earlier. Lumley contacted one of the group, Brian Fox, to learn more. The plan hadn’t really worked as well they had hoped, Fox told Lumley.
The Canadian group had bought some land and were figuring out how to farm it. They avoided the extremes that a group Australians for instance had gone to, buying land and telling themselves they could farm it without any help from the locals, until they foundered.
Still, the Canadians grappled with learning how to succeed without a safety net in a different country with a different language, different ways of doing things, and a different and sometimes volatile economic climate.
Lumley agreed that the Australian plan had a fatal flaw. “Really, it’s American,” he says. “It’s arrogant. How would we like it if someone came here and said they knew how to farm our ground much better than we do ourselves?”
There must, Lumley thought, be a way to do business by tapping into the skills of Uruguayan farmers, not trying to shove them aside.
Lumley asked Fox to accompany him to Uruguay to meet some of the contacts that Fox had made two decades earlier. “The great thing,” says Lumley, “is that his contacts had had their own children. There were people there my own age, and they were ready to talk.”
In particular, Lumley met Gabriel Carballal, a distant relative of one of Fox’s contacts. “We hit if off instantly,” Lumley says. “We were two people out of the same mold, just on opposite sides of the planet.”
There was also a potentially good business fit. Carballal was rapidly growing his cropping, especially his corn and soybean production. But that was a challenge. Uruguay was making a transition from a pasture-based beef agriculture to cropping, which meant there was little equipment on hand, especially used combines.
Even more important, there were almost no North American combines, set for large acreages of corn and soy harvesting.
Lumley had looked into Uruguayan crop production. In many ways, it was similar to what he did at home. The soils were similar, the season was similar and the varieties were similar too. “It wasn’t like parts of Brazil, where I wouldn’t have a clue how to farm,” Lumley says. “Even so, I wouldn’t know how to sell beans in Uruguay. There’s a lot of the business on the ground that I simply couldn’t do.”
So Carballal and Lumley intensified their discussions. Later that year, Lumley bought his first used U. S. combine and shipped it to Uruguay. It involved a lot of learning to ship a combine that’s bigger than a container, Lumley agrees. It also took time to figure out how to work with brokers, and when not to.
But out of that connection, Carballal
and Lumley have built a solid partnership. At its heart, it is a machinery partnership, including everything from custom harvesting to supplying parts for North American combines. But it is also a partnership that tries to make the most of each other’s skills and business capabilities.
Carballal already had some transnational experience working with Argentinian farmers. “The benefits are technology exchange, new and fresh ideas to compare and discuss, and fresh money to make it work,” Carballal says.
The result, he says, is a bigger operation with better economies of scale, plus an influx of new perspectives to keep the operation nimble and aggressive.
Carballal farms 20,000 acres, which he describes as a “medium-big” farm. It’s very large compared to traditional Uruguayan farms, but some company farms are larger. Also interesting in a Uruguayan context, he says, is that half the farm is based on rented land.
Soys make up three-quarters of his 10,000 cropped acres, with corn, sorghum and wheat accounting for most of the rest.
“I consider myself an entrepreneur,” Carballal says. “ I’m always looking for oportunities around myself and like to connect with the world.
Like Lumley, Carballal feels the partnership partly succeeds because they’re a good fit and enjoy each others company, and Carballal emphasizes the importance of trust.
“And common thoughts and ways to work are very important also,” Carballal says. “Mark and I are similar people who work similarly, think similarly and enjoy exchanging oportunities, even when we are on opposite sides of the world.”
Besides, says Carballal, “I’m closer than you think. Now it is easier to measure distances in BPS (bytes/second) than in kilometres or miles.”
It helps too that Uruguay has a global reputation for reducing red tape for foreigners doing business in the country. Passports aren’t even required for Canadians at the airport.
Lumley says as well that his involvement in the partnership has been simplified because he takes an ‘employee’ as opposed to a ‘hired-hand’ approach to his team in Sarnia. His workers have specific responsibilities. They don’t need to check with him for every single decision. And when they do need his input, they can easily link with him by phone or email.
Those same electronic communications keep Lumley in frequent touch with Carballal. They speak in English although Lumley is learning Spanish. “We often talk three or four times a week,” says Lumley, quickly adding, “Skype is free.”
At the same time, however, Lumley keeps his eye on his goal, which includes lifestyle and not just business components. “I have enough stress here (in Canada),” Lumley says. “Uruguay is supposed to add to my life, not make it more difficult.”
“I’m not trying to take on the world,” Lumley says. “I don’t have my eye on success written in capital letters. This is a partnership that works at least in part because each of us is looking out for number one and we respect that in each other.”
“I love the sun, I love the people,” Lumley says. “I’m just trying to have my cake and eat it too.” CG
and Lumley have built a solid partnership. At its heart, it is a machinery partnership, including everything from custom harvesting to supplying parts for North American combines. But it is also a partnership that tries to make the most of each other’s skills and business capabilities.
Carballal already had some transnational experience working with Argentinian farmers. “The benefits are technology exchange, new and fresh ideas to compare and discuss, and fresh money to make it work,” Carballal says.
The result, he says, is a bigger operation with better economies of scale, plus an influx of new perspectives to keep the operation nimble and aggressive.
Carballal farms 20,000 acres, which he describes as a “medium-big” farm. It’s very large compared to traditional Uruguayan farms, but some company farms are larger. Also interesting in a Uruguayan context, he says, is that half the farm is based on rented land.
Soys make up three-quarters of his 10,000 cropped acres, with corn, sorghum and wheat accounting for most of the rest.
“I consider myself an entrepreneur,” Carballal says. “ I’m always looking for oportunities around myself and like to connect with the world.
Like Lumley, Carballal feels the partnership partly succeeds because they’re a good fit and enjoy each others company, and Carballal emphasizes the importance of trust.
“And common thoughts and ways to work are very important also,” Carballal says. “Mark and I are similar people who work similarly, think similarly and enjoy exchanging oportunities, even when we are on opposite sides of the world.”
Besides, says Carballal, “I’m closer than you think. Now it is easier to measure distances in BPS (bytes/second) than in kilometres or miles.”
It helps too that Uruguay has a global reputation for reducing red tape for foreigners doing business in the country. Passports aren’t even required for Canadians at the airport.
Lumley says as well that his involvement in the partnership has been simplified because he takes an ‘employee’ as opposed to a ‘hired-hand’ approach to his team in Sarnia. His workers have specific responsibilities. They don’t need to check with him for every single decision. And when they do need his input, they can easily link with him by phone or email.
Those same electronic communications keep Lumley in frequent touch with Carballal. They speak in English although Lumley is learning Spanish. “We often talk three or four times a week,” says Lumley, quickly adding, “Skype is free.”
At the same time, however, Lumley keeps his eye on his goal, which includes lifestyle and not just business components. “I have enough stress here (in Canada),” Lumley says. “Uruguay is supposed to add to my life, not make it more difficult.”
“I’m not trying to take on the world,” Lumley says. “I don’t have my eye on success written in capital letters. This is a partnership that works at least in part because each of us is looking out for number one and we respect that in each other.”
“I love the sun, I love the people,” Lumley says. “I’m just trying to have my cake and eat it too.” CG
