Where Your Blueberries Really Come From

Spoiler alert, it's not from the pretty pictures on the punnet. It's from places like this on Gumbaynggirr Country in the Clarence Valley: a huge old gumtree cut off at the base, one of many sacrifed for endless rows of plastic tunnels.

Cycling up the NSW mid-north coast from Nambucca to Grafton I saw the landscape changing in real time. Paddocks, forests and small-scale farms being turned into industrial blueberry estates: steel hoops, white plastic, dams, pumps, chemical sheds. Habitat is cleared. Country is levelled and wrapped in plastic so we can have the latest cheap “superfood” all year round.

This is the real story behind those punnets at Woolies, Coles and Aldi.

Blueberries aren’t just thirsty; they’re chemical-hungry. To keep that perfect bloom on the fruit and squeeze maximum yield out of each plant, growers use lots of pesticides, fungicides and fertilisers. Locals I spoke to talked about spray drift on still mornings, chemical smells, and creeks they can no longer let their kids or dogs to swim in.

Independent testing of berries from this region has found multiple pesticide residues on supermarket fruit, and scientists have also picked up cocktail mixes of farm chemicals in soil and run-off below the tunnels. When it rains, whatever doesn’t stay on the plant moves into the drains, the creeks, the estuaries and the sea. It doesn’t just disappear. It flows through turtles, fish, shellfish and the soil life that keeps Country breathing.

From a First Nations perspective, that isn’t just “pollution”. It’s a breach of relationship. It's poisoning our kin. Chemicals are being pushed into places that hold stories, Songlines and food sources that have nourished Gumbaynggirr people for thousands of years. No-one asked the river, the mangroves or the oysters for consent.

None of this is visible in the supermarket. There, blueberries sit under soft lighting, marketed as a pure, healthy treat. The label might say “Product of Australia” in tiny print. It doesn’t mention the cleared forest, the poisoned creek, and communities who had to turn up, again and again, to council meetings just to get basic controls put on these farms.

I’m not saying never eat a blueberry again. I am saying we need to close the gap between what we see on the shelf and what's happening on Country. That can look like treating blueberries as an occasional luxury, not a year-round staple; choosing organic or low-chemical berries where we can; and backing local groups who are pushing for stronger rules, real monitoring and support for farmers who want to do things properly.

Most of all, it means remembering that “healthy food” isn’t healthy if it depends on sick Country.

So next time you see a cheap punnet of blueberries at the checkout, I’d invite you to picture this stump and those rows of plastic tunnels - and ask yourself what they’re really costing.

Habitat destruction from industrial blueberry farming.

Industrial blueberry farm.