Farmers' market is fighting back

Richard Tasker runs a practised auctioneer's eye over the two young steers in the ring and nods approvingly. Good-shaped animals, he says, nicely rounded. "The prime beef is on the backside. Look at those backsides. They have a lovely meat."

We are in the ring at York Livestock Centre at Murton on the outskirts of York. There is a fug of warm animal smells, the sound of young cattle lowing in the holding pens out back.

Auctioneer Gordon Garside is expertly working the crowd of flat-capped, tweed-jacketed farmers sitting on the wooden seats that rise up from the ring.

"550. 550. 550. 550," he says, his voice flat and staccato. "Come on. 550. 550." A seated farmer's hand flicks up. "555. 555. Come on. 560."

The animals eventually go for £575 each - a good price for good quality animals. A green-wellington-booted auction worker with a long stick ushers them out of one of the twin gates leading from the ring, and two more animals are brought in from the holding pens. The auctioneer strikes up a fresh, staccato burst. "425. 425. 425. 430. 435."

It is almost a year to the day since the livestock market re-opened after the disaster that was the 2001 foot and mouth outbreak: and the Thursday "store stock" day is in full swing.

Store stock are young animals bought to be fattened up before selling on for slaughter. Between 200 and 250 animals will change hands today, says Richard, one of the market's auctioneers; bought and sold by farmers coming from all over Yorkshire. Most will take six to 12 months to fatten up before being ready for slaughter.

Standing at the back of the ring watching proceedings, it is hard not to feel that this thriving market is a sign that things really are getting back to normal. There is a feeling of optimism that a year ago was sadly lacking in farming. Yes, Richard concedes, farming probably is beginning to get back on its feet - to a degree, at least. But it has been hard work.

For almost a year livestock markets such as the one at Murton were closed to all live business. So even though this market re-opened on February 28 last year, it took a long time for the business to pick up.

"It is fair to say that it has taken the best part of a year for the livestock markets to re-establish themselves," says Richard. "They were shut for a year and, naturally, farmers had to find alternative means of marketing stock."

Where fatstock was concerned that wasn't too difficult. There is a system of classification - the Euro grid - set up by the meat and livestock commission to make it possible for fatstock - finished animals being sold for slaughter - to be sold sight unseen.

Fatstock animals are graded by quality and fat level, meaning a realistic price can be set even without them being seen. So even during the height of foot and mouth, it was possible for animals to be sold under licence direct to abbattoirs. They didn't come through the livestock markets - but they could still be sold.

The market in store stock, however, dried up almost completely, says Richard. The store market is very much farmer to farmer - every single animal for sale at a market like Murton is on view, so farmers can assess the quality of animals and what they are willing to pay directly.

With the severe restrictions in place during and immediately after foot and mouth and the closure of livestock markets, the market in store stock came to a virtual standstill.

A year on, there remains a good deal of anger at the way the Government and DEFRA handled the whole thing, says Richard. To many, it seemed as though livestock markets were being arbitrarily made an example of by a government desperate to show it was doing something.

"Our main criticism is that DEFRA singled out livestock markets and said 'oh, you're horrible, dirty places," he says.

"But we have always argued what better place than a livestock market is there to have everything coming to? From the policing point of view, you have vets, DEFRA staff, the police - they can all come here and monitor everything.

"They can check that wagons are clean and people are wearing the correct clothing. Whereas all they did by restricting the markets and shutting them down was to scatter everybody.

"A farmer who wanted to buy a few cattle was going around ten or 12 farms to try to find the right stock. There was never any possibility of policing it."

Ironically, one of the effects of foot and mouth is that at the moment, the store stock market is pretty strong. The reason is the sheer number of animals slaughtered during the outbreak.

"A massive number of breeding animals were slaughtered," says Richard. "You don't replace them overnight." A shortage of breeding stock meant a shortage of young animals to be sold on for fattening up - and hence good prices.

Fatstock prices aren't so good, partly because of what Richard calls the "dumping" of finished meat from overseas on the British market - beef from Namibia, pork from Poland, chicken from Brazil. It remains a source of constant irritation to British farmers, says Richard, that they are expected to produce animals in humane conditions to a high standard, only to have prices undermined by a flood of cheap foreign meat.

Nevertheless, despite everything, things are looking up. For the first time since foot and mouth John Houseman, who farms at Bolton Percy, is thinking about restocking. He used to keep about 200 head of grass beef cattle. His farm was not infected by foot and mouth, but restrictions imposed on movement of stock meant that for a couple of years he didn't buy in any animals of his own.

Instead, he concentrated on looking after 80 head of "bed and breakfast" cattle, and his 200 acres of cereals.

But now he's back on the lookout for stock - aiming to buy up to 100 head.

It won't be easy, he says - compensation paid to farmers whose animals were slaughtered because of foot and mouth has helped push up prices, so it is harder for farmers like him, who got no compensation, to buy their way back into the market.

But he agrees with Richard that generally there is more optimism about now.

"We're always eternal optimists, farmers," the 49-year-old, who has been farming all his life, says with a grin.

"How many business would still keep going selling products at 45 or 50 per cent of what they were getting a few years ago?

"But it's not just a job. It's something I love."

Updated: 10:43 Friday, February 28, 2003