The farm tour began.
We got back into the car and drove slowly along the internal farm road. On both sides, rows of deep green avocado trees stretched out before us. Being thirty years old, the trees were tall, their leaves dense, and on some of them dark green avocados were already hanging.
“We begin harvesting in earnest in July and continue until September. They’re the Hass variety—the one that accounts for over 95 percent of California avocados.”
My father, seated beside him, asked,
“Could you tell us about the Hass variety?”
He must have studied avocados, so it wasn’t as if he knew nothing, but asking questions was still a good attitude.
“Hass is, you could say, the mainstay variety of California avocados. I’d say more than 90 percent are Hass. Hass is also the main variety in Mexico.”
“Ah…”
“They’re not particularly large, and they have a thick, dark purplish-black skin that turns black when ripe. They’re known for their soft, creamy flesh, high fat content, and nutty aroma. Since the skin is thick, they hold up well in transport and storage, so it’s a variety with many advantages.”
“I see.”
“Above all, they’re treated as premium compared to Mexican Hass, so the wholesale price is higher. You can consider that one of our farm’s strengths.”
The farm owner, Mr. George Henderson, continued explaining as he drove.
“This farm has produced stable harvests every year for over thirty years. The average is around seven to eight thousand pounds per acre. With three hundred acres, that’s two to two point four million pounds a year. If we set the wholesale price at a dollar fifty per pound, sales come to about three to three point six million dollars. After operating costs, the net profit is around two to two point five million dollars a year.”
Just from hearing that, twelve million dollars did not seem at all unreasonable, given the revenue and net profit. Then I asked,
“What is the soil condition like?”
“It’s mildly alkaline with a volcanic rock base, ideal for avocados. We’ve really paid attention to soil management for thirty years, and last year’s pH measurement was stable at 7.2.”
“And irrigation?”
“We use a drip irrigation system, with individual nozzles for each tree, so we can control the water supply precisely. Avocados need a great deal of water, but thanks to this system, we can provide it efficiently.”
For now, it was still accepted almost as established fact that avocado cultivation required a lot of water. The concept of water stress had not yet taken hold. As far as I knew, direct application of water stress to avocados had begun around 2015, so if my father took over and started now, he would likely be considered a pioneer.
When we arrived at the farm office, a Mexican-American man in his mid-fifties greeted us. He had a sun-darkened face and a solid build. He wore a work cap and held a small operations notebook in his hand.
“I’m Carlos Mendoza. Nice to meet you.”
This man would be a key figure in taking over the farm.
“I’m Woody Choi. I came in person because I’m interested in acquiring it.”
Carlos nodded and led us into the office. The office was simple. A desk, chairs, a farm map, an operations manual—that was about it, and everything was neatly organized.
Woody brought up the most important question himself.
“Mr. Carlos, would you be willing to continue working here after the sale?”
“That depends on who the new owner is. If it’s someone who knows the value of the farm and will run it well, I’d like to stay. This farm is my life.”
“George brought me in as manager twenty years ago. Back then, I was a farmer in my early thirties who had just come to America from Michoacán, Mexico. George taught me everything, starting with a single tree. Since then, for twenty years, I’ve come to work at the farm every day at five in the morning and personally looked after each and every tree.”
“…”
“These trees are like my children.”
George, who had been listening, added briefly from the side.
“Without Carlos, this farm wouldn’t run properly. I want to make that very clear to the buyer as well.”
My father said readily,
“I think I could trust Mr. Carlos and leave things in his hands.”
Carlos had been sounding him out, saying it depended on who the owner would be, but when he heard that his employment would continue, a bright smile spread across his face. It was clear he had been worried inside that he might have to leave this farm.
“In that case, I’ll be with you.”
Since it seemed the acquisition would ultimately go through without a hitch, George Henderson also smiled and said,
“Good. Then proceed with the formal purchase process through Jack Morrison. On the condition that you go with the twelve million dollars as is. If you’d like, even after the purchase, I can come by as an advisor for about a year and help Mr. Carlos and Mr. Woody, so feel free to let me know.”
“Let’s do that.”
And so my father shook George Henderson’s hand in good spirits and left.
As the car slowly pulled out of the farm entrance road, I saw George and Carlos waving in the rearview mirror.
“What do you think?”
Though he had more or less decided to buy the farm, my father still asked me, the farming expert, for my opinion.
“It looked good. We couldn’t inspect all three hundred acres, but on paper, at least, I didn’t see anything that would be a problem.”
“I’m going to check the entire farm again before taking over.”
“Exactly. If nothing comes up then, I think it’s good too. But…”
“But?”
“I think it’s good for you to keep and run it with a manager named Carlos, but his operating methods might not match yours later.”
“You mean he and I might clash?”
“Yes. The cultivation methods may also change. You heard what he said earlier, right? That avocados need a lot of water. Saying that means he doesn’t apply water stress to avocados, but when the climate is as inconsistent as it is now, you can’t just water them mindlessly like in the past.”
“That’s… true.”
“Then you’ll have to talk about cultivation methods, but will he really listen to you? Especially since he talked as if he had full authority over the farm… There are certainly convenient aspects to that, but there will be downsides too, so you’ll have to study hard.”
“I’ll have to. I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”
“That’s right. Mr. Carlos is clearly a good manager, but that doesn’t mean you can just leave everything alone.”
“If anything, I think the first year or two are really important. He’ll be trying to figure out what kind of person the new owner is. If, during that time, he decides this man is the type to leave everything to him, there’s a chance he’ll start doing things however he wants afterward.”
“…”
I clearly remembered how, when I first went to help at Chloe’s farm, the farm manager there had done something strange behind her back. I knew well how subordinates could seek private gain when the farm owner didn’t know much, so one could not afford to let one’s guard down.
Naturally, my father, who knew such things even better than I did, nodded. He had run a business and managed many subordinates, so there was no way he wouldn’t understand.
The contract was signed three days later at Jack Morrison’s office. My father completed the contract to pay twelve million dollars, combining the money he had earned from Redwood Holdings, the money he borrowed from my winery, and additional funds received through a specialized farm loan.
That very weekend after the purchase agreement was signed, my father found a temporary place to stay in Ventura County. It was a condo in a small town near the farm, a furnished place rented on a month-to-month basis.
Since it was six hours by car from Napa Valley, he had no choice but to get a separate residence like this, but it was still far closer than living in Japan, so my father would certainly feel less lonely.
He decided to choose a permanent residence gradually. He would only get a sense of what kind of house he needed after first seeing how the farm operated.
Monday, five in the morning. When Woody went to work at the Ventura farm office for the first time, Carlos was standing in front of the farm office, waiting by a pickup truck.
“Mr. Woody, welcome to your first day of work.”
“Mr. Carlos, I’ll be in your care.”
After they shook hands, Carlos had Woody get into the farm tour vehicle. Carlos apparently made a circuit of the farm every dawn, and Woody sat in the passenger seat and personally watched how each tree was managed.
“Today, we’ll start with Section D. The harvest there finished just yesterday. We’ll begin preparing for the next season while checking the condition of the leaves.”
He began explaining the farm as he drove. As expected of a manager with twenty years of experience, he knew every single tree.
“This tree’s yield has been dropping slightly since five years ago.”
“We pruned that tree over there a bit heavily last spring. That line over there had a slight issue during the soil test, so we adjusted the fertilizer last year.”
Woody listened quietly and diligently committed it all to memory. Every word Carlos said was new learning for him.
After the tour ended and they returned to the office, Carlos handed the operations manual to Woody.
“If you read this, you’ll be able to grasp the overall picture of the farm system. Read a chapter whenever you have time, and if you have any questions, please ask me anytime.”
“Thank you.”
Woody accepted the manual, sat at the desk, and opened the first page. He learned that it was an operations manual George had created and Carlos had refined over thirty years. Everything was organized in it, from each tree on the farm to labor management, clients, and materials.
The first week passed that way. He went to work every day at five in the morning, listened to Carlos explain the farm, and studied the manual in the office. Then, in the evening, he returned to his temporary residence and reviewed what he had learned that day. Doing this allowed him to quickly grasp the work of the farm.
“He’s a good man.”
From what he could see, Carlos was a good manager. He was precise, diligent, and deeply attached to the farm. Woody felt he had indeed chosen well.
However, from the second week onward, subtle friction began to arise.
Woody was sitting in the office, reading the cultivation management chapter of the manual, when he asked Carlos,
“Mr. Carlos, if you have a moment, may I ask you something?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“I heard from my son that if you give avocados a slight amount of water stress, the sugar content rises and the fat content improves as well. What do you think about trying it on just one block starting next season?”
For a moment, Carlos looked at Woody with eyes that said he couldn’t understand. Then he soon shook his head.
“Mr. Woody, that does not suit avocado cultivation. Avocados need plenty of water. We’ve done it that way for thirty years, and the results have been good.”
“Couldn’t we try it experimentally on just five acres? My son is a doctor of agricultural science, and he recommended it. And California’s climate is becoming increasingly unstable. Even to prepare for drought, we need to build experience with water stress…”
But Carlos furrowed his brow slightly, then lowered his tone a little and said,
“Mr. Woody, forgive me for saying so, but farming isn’t done by the book. There are things only people who have run a farm for thirty years know. If we try a new method and ruin a season, the losses will be enormous. Even if it’s only five acres, if the trees in that block become stressed and the next year’s harvest drops as well, it will take two or three years to recover.”
“Since you’ve become the new owner, why not give yourself some time to adjust? It’s safer to continue with the existing method for about one season. It won’t be too late to try something new after the farm is running stably.”
Carlos’s words weren’t wrong. Waiting a season could be reasonable. But Woody did not feel good. On the surface, Carlos’s tone was polite, but Woody could clearly sense the underlying attitude of I know better. And he even got the sense that Carlos was reluctant to let the owner lay hands on the farm. That could only leave him feeling uneasy.
“Understood. I’ll think it over again and let you know.”
For today, he intended to let it pass. At that, Carlos, with a faint smile at the corners of his mouth, bowed his head and left the office.
“Haa… So that’s how you want to play it?”
He knew very well that in a situation like this, simply lying low because he didn’t know much would never lead to good results. The relationship between the manager and the owner had to be clear.
Woody’s eyes began to shine.
And that Friday.
Woody began reviewing the laborers’ wage list. Using the personnel information contained in the manager’s manual, he checked the names, years of employment, hourly wages, and working hours of the thirty laborers.
As he examined the list line by line, a subtle pattern caught his eye.
The average hourly wage for farm laborers in California was around thirteen to fifteen dollars an hour. But according to the list, some laborers were receiving eighteen to twenty dollars an hour. There were a little over ten of them. Looking over the names, surnames such as Mendoza, García, and López appeared repeatedly.
“Well, look at this.”
Before long, Woody summoned Carlos.