Greg Barila: Keeping our horticultural industries fruit fly free needs a coordinated approach across three states

DESPITE the scary signs and literature about fruit fly, it isn’t difficult to get a banana over the border — which means things need to change, writes Greg Barila.

Field inspector Michael Lycett sprays trees during a fruit fly outbreak in Adelaide. Picture: Dean Martin

THE recent revelation that a serious outbreak of fruit fly in Adelaide might have gone undetected for months due to public holidays and a lack of resources may come as a shock to some but it is no surprise to me.

As someone who grew up on a fruit and vegetable farm on the NSW side of the river from Mildura and who has spent the past 15 years living in SA, I have — one way or the other — had dealings with this country’s dysfunctional cross-border quarantine system my whole life.

If you have ever ventured over the border from Victoria you’ll know a key part of South Australia’s biosecurity system is a checking station near a truck stop at Yamba, a few k’s up the road from Renmark.

I recall road trips to Adelaide with Mum and Dad and the frantic approach to Yamba where nasty signs warned in no uncertain terms about the penalties for fruit crimes.

“Quick kids, eat these apples now or they’ll put us in jail!”

Having run the gauntlet hundreds of times, one learns to relax when passing through the checking station as soon as you realise that crossing into SA is less like going into Mexico and more like parking your car at the footy.

There’s a quick check of the boot, a quick squiz in the glovebox and you’re soon back on the road on your way — which, of course, is just one problem with the system.

Field workers Stephanie Arnold and Chris Flint collect fruit samples during an Adelaide fruit fly outbreak.

If you were game enough to hide a pile of illicit fruit under your seat or in your pockets, who would know?

Over the years, I’ve heard people describe the many creative ways they’ve successfully smuggled small quantities of produce over the border. (They will go with me to my grave).

Despite the scary signs and literature, if you want to get a banana over the border, it isn’t all that difficult.

There’s another major problem with the system; it’s adjacent to the Yamba checking station and it’s literally big enough to drive a truck through.

And that is, while motorists heading into SA are forced to declare any fruit and vegetables they may be carrying, there are no such checks in the opposite direction such that Carmen Miranda could take a leisurely drive to Mildura with a bootload of fruit salad and go completely unmolested.

This, of course, may go some way towards explaining why much of Victoria is now struggling with a broad infestation of Qld fruit fly, which is threatening the very future of the state’s multi-million dollar horticultural industry.

Quarantine officer Jolanda Edwards examines confiscated fruit at a SA checkpoint.

Backyard fruit gathered in Adelaide is inspected for evidence of fruit fly.

Restrictions on the movement of produce and chemical treatment programs have been in full swing for several seasons but, so far, all attempts to rid Victoria of the pest have failed.

So bad is the problem, in 2012, the Victorian Government was almost ready to concede defeat, announcing, then backtracking on, plans to wind back public spending on fruit fly eradication.

“ … is it the best use of taxpayers’ money to be trying to control something you cannot control?” the-then Agriculture Minister Peter Walsh said.

Part of Victoria’s reasoning was that just over the border, NSW was doing nothing to control the pest — so why were they spending millions of dollars fighting a losing battle? It’s a fair enough question.

You’d have to go back to the days before Australia’s rail network with its various gauges was standardised to find a messier, more confusing system.

At the intersection of three states, Mildura makes the perfect case for reform.

The Queensland fruit fly can cause immense damage to horticultural crops.

A fruit fly quarantine warning sign in the Riverland, where vehicles are regularly inspected.

Under the regulations, the only way to legally take fresh produce from the family farm in NSW home to Adelaide is by hauling the goods over the Murray to the relevant department in Mildura so they can be cursorily inspected and a Plant Health Certificate issued.

In my experience, the whole affair invariably necessitates a confused and heated argument about the rules between each state, the kinds of produce allowed to be carried, sometimes whether produce can be carried at all.

The process has only become more onerous since the recent outbreaks and, defeated, I have given up.

What good is this kind of cruel and unusual punishment if the authorities charged with preventing a serious outbreak are failing like they did in Adelaide?

Pests and diseases, unlike trains, don’t stop at state borders.

So surely protecting Australia’s multi-billion dollar food sector requires a national approach with the resources to properly police it.

The government is quick to tell us quarantine matters.

Or does that depend what state you’re in?