Crop theft takes toll on families

By Will Hoover
Advertiser North Shore Writer

WAIALUA — It was struggle enough for plantation workers when the 1996 closing of the Waialua Sugar Mill took away their livelihoods and left them facing an uncertain future.

Edith Ramiscal, president of the Waialua Farmers Cooperative, said nearly every member of the co-op has had crops or supplies stolen. Ramiscal said thieves burned down a shack next to her half-acre field after she confronted them.

One co-op location is said to be plagued by trespassers who hang out on vacant lots and dump abandoned vehicles. Thieves have also struck during the day.

Although thieves have been stealing from farmers for years, they have become more bold. This shack next to Edith Ramiscal's field was burned to the ground. It belonged to her uncle, who farms the land beside hers. Bruce Asato • The Honolulu Advertiser

Small family farmers are being stripped of their crops and intimidated by the culprits in a crime long familiar to rural areas across Hawai'i. But in this depressed area where the economy hasn't been sweet since the mill closed, theft has reached new levels of boldness and frequency.

"It's much worse now than it was," said Milton Agader, who founded the Waialua Farmers Cooperative in 1996. Agader's commercial asparagus operation has been hit 10 times in recent months by thieves who have made off with nearly $8,000 in chemical pesticides.

At the same time those farmers say they are getting little support from the community, police and Dole Foods Hawai'i, from which the farmers lease tiny acreages on which they grow everything from bananas to basil to beans.

Police and some community members acknowledge that crop theft has become a serious problem, but they counter that co-op farmers have unrealistic expectations about what authorities and townsfolk can do to help. They say the farmers need to take measures to protect their own interests.

Agader said he has done that.

After each theft, Agader upgraded and reinforced his storage security, but the crooks figured out new ways to cut, pry or drill their way inside. Last time, when the alarm system sounded, Agader followed the bad guys' truck and turned the license number over to police.

But since no one actually witnessed the heist, he said authorities told him there wasn't enough proof to press a case. That kind of reaction is typical, the farmers say.

Diversified agriculture

Jeanne Vana, a tomato grower and past president of the Waialua Farmers Cooperative, recalls the day the Waialua community paid its respects to the soon-to-end Waialua Sugar Mill and welcomed the prospect of diversified agriculture as an alternative for displaced mill workers.

"In October of 1996 we had a pau hana celebration in Waialua Park marking the end of sugar," said Vana, who at the time was in charge of Dole's diversified ag installations.

"The co-op had been running for six months. Everything looked promising — one era was ending and a new one was beginning. There was a vision that land occupied by sugar would now be in new crops."

Even in the best of times, the life has never been easy. The harsh realities of farming long ago overshadowed romantic notions of working the land. The work can be slavish, the hours long and tedious, and the monetary rewards minimal, Agader said.

More than 60 farmers started out in the cooperative, but following some initial fanfare, many became disenchanted or dropped out, he said.

Continual thefts only aggravated the situation.

State agriculture officials have no accurate estimates of annual crop losses from theft, but the problem is so severe in some areas that it is putting farmers out of business.

Those in Waialua who have stuck it out have little choice but to press on.

"These are just small farmers who once worked at the sugar mill and who now are trying to make an honest living," said Edith Ramiscal, the cooperative's current president. "What else can they do?"

She represents 53 family farms operated to a large extent by former Filipino sugar mill workers in their 50s and 60s. These farmers grow diversified crops on plots of land connected to Mill Camp, the old Dole plantation camp with homes still occupied by former mill workers

Virtually every member of the cooperative has had crops or supplies stolen, she said.

Thieves becoming bold

One co-op location known as Mill 6 has been plagued by trespassers who hang out on two vacant adjacent lots in the evenings, she said. They dump old vehicles on the property, seem to be dealing drugs and scare the farmers, she said.

On Good Friday, a day after she confronted one group and asked them to leave, the shack next to her half-acre field was burned to the ground. Ramiscal thinks those who burned the shack thought it was hers. Actually, it belonged to her uncle, who farms the land beside hers.

After the incident, she said her auntie and uncle were scared to farm the property. Other co-op members who have suffered theft are too scared and intimidated to speak up or go to authorities.

Ramiscal voiced her concerns at last week's North Shore Neighborhood Board meeting. Although many at the meeting sympathized with the plight of the farmers, it wasn't clear what Ramiscal expected the board to do, board members said.

The suggestion has been raised in the community that much of the stealing is internal — that it is being done by those who work for the farmers and that co-op members need to do better background checks.

Police role limited

Board member Jenny Vierra said after the meeting that the co-op farmers are talking to the wrong people.

"The first thing they need to do is to work with Dole, which owns the land," she said. "Hopefully, Dole can help them come up with some kind of solution for security. People are going to try and help them. But it will take some coordination between the land owners and the farmers and the people who are around there.

"Even the police told them that their hands are tied."

Dole representatives could not be reached for comment.

Sgt. Faye Tamura, with the Honolulu Police Department's District 2 station in Wahiawa, which covers Waialua, said it's tough for the farmers to understand that police are bound by laws that dictate what officers can and cannot do.

For one thing, police can't remove trespassers from private land unless the property owner specifically asks them to, she said. Furthermore, police have responded to such requests from Dole on numerous occasions and have even made arrests.

Usually, because the violation is a property crime and not a violent crime, offenders are either not held or are soon out on bail, she said. Police occasionally end up arresting the same offender again a short time later.

"I feel for the farmers," said Tamura, who was formerly with the Waialua Policing Team. "I understand their frustration. But we're frustrated too. And so is Dole. They know the problems and are just as frustrated themselves. They've had whole crops stolen. And look at the size of their acreage."

The difficulty is that neither Dole nor the police has the capability to patrol all co-op farm land at all times, Tamura said. She said police have tried to help Ramiscal set up an agricultural watch, which is similar to a neighborhood watch program. But Ramiscal wants them to do more.

"We're not a private security firm," Tamura said. "We try to make suggestions so they can help themselves. But if your bottom line is you want us to be there 24-7, that is not a solution. We don't have that kind of manpower and we never will."

Ramiscal said she doesn't know where to turn.

"I'm at my wit's end," she said as she sat at her kitchen table and pored over a mound of photos of junked cars dumped near her farm. "Police tell me I'm imagining things. They say these are just people who like to work on cars.

"And the community is always saying they want to keep the North Shore country. Well, they have to support their farmers. They can't just turn their eyes away."

Reach Will Hoover at 525-8038 or whoover@honoluluadvertiser.com.