Ross and Debbie Loomans
For most farmers, the purchase of a holiday home comes a bit later in life; a welcome reward for much of the hard work. But Rangiatea couple Ross and Debbie Loomans have done it the other way round. And they candidly admit their early-in-life ownership of their Matarangi Beach property is a vital factor in them farming in their own right as they do today on their 270ha sheep and beef unit at Otorohanga in the northern King Country.
The couple were just into their twenties, living in a rented farm cottage and expecting the first of their four children when they bought their section kind of on impulse at Matarangi on the Coromandel Peninsula. The section value tripled within a year, so they took the plunge and borrowed heavily to build a house there. Ross, after a brief stint doing teacher training at Waikato University, was shearing for a living and the couple had hopes of eventually going farming.
Their idea was to enjoy the beach place while they could, then sell it when they needed to, hopefully using the money towards some farmland. At the time, they never dreamed theyd be able to hold onto their treasured holiday home, and have their own farm as they do today.
The ultimate was to buy the farm of Rosss parents, Jim and Peg, but from the outset they knew getting hold of it at anything other than market rate was not an option. However, Ross is quick to point out that although there were no handouts from his parents, the fact he and Debbie and their children can now call the farm he grew up on home too is not just down to a phenomenal rise in the value of their beach place, or all Rosss toil bent over in the shearing shed. The moral support of his parents has also been a huge and greatly appreciated factor, he says.
Ross recalls when he first began buying stock from his father to run on the farm in the early 1980s, an agent was called in, a valuation made and that was the price. The same applied to arrive at a price when Ross and Debbie finally got in a position five years ago to buy the farm.
There have been no handouts from Jim and Peg Loomans, and Ross and Debbie say its best that way.
The Loomans senior have acted as guarantors however, and used some of their equity in the farm to help as well. The money Ross and Debbie have borrowed from them is repaid, with interest, no question of that.
The legacy of working hard for what youve got, and no handouts, is one that Ross is proud of, and is passing on to his children. While living at home they are expected to work on the farm, and are not paid for their work, just as he wasnt. Thats how life is he says. Dont ever expect something for nothing.
This work ethic has stood the couple in good stead through the years. Debbie, a qualified radiographer, has worked part-time for much of her married life. And Ross shore full-time from 1980-1992 and part time for the next 10 years.
Unlike many shearers, Ross made the conscious decision to only shear in his home area. Being home near his family and the farm were priorities to him. In the shearing season he was able to work on the farm for his father on days when the sheep were wet. And in the winter he had a good little sideline going contract engineering for an Otorohanga firm. A self-taught welder, it was not uncommon for Ross to work shearers hours even in the off-season. Hed be down in his shed welding by 5 am and fit this in around family time and keeping the farm going.
You can understand why time off at the beach, fishing and diving, has always been appreciated and why they were so pleased to be able to borrow against the value of their Matarangi property, rather than selling it as theyd originally intended to.
Shearing was always a means to an end for Ross, but it also became something he came to enjoy he says. He quickly figured if he was going to put the hours in, he might as well make the maximum buck. The competition of working in a gang with top shearers like Colin King and Edsel Forde ensured he was doing this.
With a personal best tally of 660 lambs, and a record for consistently shearing in excess of 400 ewes and 500 lambs a day, Ross reckons he was pretty consistent ahead of most and not too far behind the best. And hes proud of the fact that, despite if being an acceptable norm at the time, he never once cashed a shearing cheque at the club.
The old home ownership accounts run through the banks had great tax incentives recalls Ross and it was these that Debbie and he had that allowed them to hold on to their Matarangi place when interest rates went through the roof in the mid to later 1980s.
The accounts were for first homes (or farms) only and, though they didnt live in it all the time, thats what their beach house was. To this day Ross is grateful his banks flexibility at that time allowed them to hold onto their Matarangi place.
While acknowledging individual case differences, Ross says as a general rule now he believes the path to farm ownership is vastly different however. Not everyone has the luck of the back-up of a fortuitous but seemingly frivolous purchase of a holiday home to fall back upon.
The best course for a young person these days, he believes, is via tertiary education and onto a well-paid profession in order to amass capital. Thats the sad reality with the price of land today being, in so many cases, being out of proportion to what you can earn from it, he says.
Ross and Debbie have lifted production markedly on the farm. Some of those changes have been the difference in them staying liquid and on the place, or not, they say.
Whereas steers used to go off the place as three-year-olds weighing 280 kgs, management improvement means they now get them away as two-year-olds weighing 380 kgs.
Every finishing mob is on a daily shift and they solidly break feed for about seven months of the year.
Lambing percentage has been lifted from 100 to 150 % through better feeding regimes and Ross also speaks highly of the product Androvax for lifting fertility. The only problem with that, he says, is the higher incidence of ewes with bearing problems. He has begun addressing this with breeding his own replacements.
The Loomans call themselves old-fashioned when is comes to their sheep. They still do a lambing beat, feed orphan lambs, stitch bearings in and pull lambs out.
The couple were just into their twenties, living in a rented farm cottage and expecting the first of their four children when they bought their section kind of on impulse at Matarangi on the Coromandel Peninsula. The section value tripled within a year, so they took the plunge and borrowed heavily to build a house there. Ross, after a brief stint doing teacher training at Waikato University, was shearing for a living and the couple had hopes of eventually going farming.
Their idea was to enjoy the beach place while they could, then sell it when they needed to, hopefully using the money towards some farmland. At the time, they never dreamed theyd be able to hold onto their treasured holiday home, and have their own farm as they do today.
The ultimate was to buy the farm of Rosss parents, Jim and Peg, but from the outset they knew getting hold of it at anything other than market rate was not an option. However, Ross is quick to point out that although there were no handouts from his parents, the fact he and Debbie and their children can now call the farm he grew up on home too is not just down to a phenomenal rise in the value of their beach place, or all Rosss toil bent over in the shearing shed. The moral support of his parents has also been a huge and greatly appreciated factor, he says.
Ross recalls when he first began buying stock from his father to run on the farm in the early 1980s, an agent was called in, a valuation made and that was the price. The same applied to arrive at a price when Ross and Debbie finally got in a position five years ago to buy the farm.
There have been no handouts from Jim and Peg Loomans, and Ross and Debbie say its best that way.
The Loomans senior have acted as guarantors however, and used some of their equity in the farm to help as well. The money Ross and Debbie have borrowed from them is repaid, with interest, no question of that.
The legacy of working hard for what youve got, and no handouts, is one that Ross is proud of, and is passing on to his children. While living at home they are expected to work on the farm, and are not paid for their work, just as he wasnt. Thats how life is he says. Dont ever expect something for nothing.
This work ethic has stood the couple in good stead through the years. Debbie, a qualified radiographer, has worked part-time for much of her married life. And Ross shore full-time from 1980-1992 and part time for the next 10 years.
Unlike many shearers, Ross made the conscious decision to only shear in his home area. Being home near his family and the farm were priorities to him. In the shearing season he was able to work on the farm for his father on days when the sheep were wet. And in the winter he had a good little sideline going contract engineering for an Otorohanga firm. A self-taught welder, it was not uncommon for Ross to work shearers hours even in the off-season. Hed be down in his shed welding by 5 am and fit this in around family time and keeping the farm going.
You can understand why time off at the beach, fishing and diving, has always been appreciated and why they were so pleased to be able to borrow against the value of their Matarangi property, rather than selling it as theyd originally intended to.
Shearing was always a means to an end for Ross, but it also became something he came to enjoy he says. He quickly figured if he was going to put the hours in, he might as well make the maximum buck. The competition of working in a gang with top shearers like Colin King and Edsel Forde ensured he was doing this.
With a personal best tally of 660 lambs, and a record for consistently shearing in excess of 400 ewes and 500 lambs a day, Ross reckons he was pretty consistent ahead of most and not too far behind the best. And hes proud of the fact that, despite if being an acceptable norm at the time, he never once cashed a shearing cheque at the club.
The old home ownership accounts run through the banks had great tax incentives recalls Ross and it was these that Debbie and he had that allowed them to hold on to their Matarangi place when interest rates went through the roof in the mid to later 1980s.
The accounts were for first homes (or farms) only and, though they didnt live in it all the time, thats what their beach house was. To this day Ross is grateful his banks flexibility at that time allowed them to hold onto their Matarangi place.
While acknowledging individual case differences, Ross says as a general rule now he believes the path to farm ownership is vastly different however. Not everyone has the luck of the back-up of a fortuitous but seemingly frivolous purchase of a holiday home to fall back upon.
The best course for a young person these days, he believes, is via tertiary education and onto a well-paid profession in order to amass capital. Thats the sad reality with the price of land today being, in so many cases, being out of proportion to what you can earn from it, he says.
Ross and Debbie have lifted production markedly on the farm. Some of those changes have been the difference in them staying liquid and on the place, or not, they say.
Whereas steers used to go off the place as three-year-olds weighing 280 kgs, management improvement means they now get them away as two-year-olds weighing 380 kgs.
Every finishing mob is on a daily shift and they solidly break feed for about seven months of the year.
Lambing percentage has been lifted from 100 to 150 % through better feeding regimes and Ross also speaks highly of the product Androvax for lifting fertility. The only problem with that, he says, is the higher incidence of ewes with bearing problems. He has begun addressing this with breeding his own replacements.
The Loomans call themselves old-fashioned when is comes to their sheep. They still do a lambing beat, feed orphan lambs, stitch bearings in and pull lambs out.