Village Roots Report 04 | Neipu, Pingtung – Wu Juli Pineapple Field

Racing Against the Sun

May marks the season when the weather gradually heats up. Setting off in the early morning, we felt a slight chill in the air—but even more striking was the ever-changing sky above the countryside roads: from darkness to ash gray, then hints of light, followed by pale yellow, violet, and orange hues. A new day begins amidst gentle breezes and a mountain landscape that resembles an ink painting.

“Park the car here!” Brother Wu shouted as he helped his father harvest pineapples, simultaneously directing us where to park. He wore a bright smile, though the signs of busyness were obvious on his face. That’s because pineapple harvesting season is like a race against the sun. “We start harvesting at dawn and must finish by around 8 a.m., otherwise the heat becomes unbearable,” explained Father Wu. In Pingtung, pineapple season runs roughly from late February to the end of May, with May’s fruit considered the sweetest. To harvest quality pineapples, farmers labor in sweat—walking between rows, carrying fruit one by one.

Pineapples are harvested only once a year. While one field is being harvested, another must be cleared and replanted—the farm work is nonstop. This is the Wu Juli Pineapple Field. Although herbicides are used during weed growth, they are allowed to metabolize before harvest, and no growth hormones are applied to enlarge the fruit. “That’s why our pineapples don’t sting your tongue,” Brother Wu said with a shy but confident smile.

Our visit coincided with the busiest time of year, when extra workers were needed. “The harvest volume is quite high—we need to ship out around a hundred baskets in a single morning,” Father Wu added. If they can’t hire enough help, they have to limit the planted area, since delays in harvesting can cause the pineapples to over-ripen and lose value. Harvesting all the pineapples from a 0.5-hectare field takes about two weeks. In truth, they’re not only racing against the sun—but also against time.

Tough-Looking Pineapples, Surprisingly Delicate Inside

At the top of each pineapple plant in the field, there are long black cloths and small sunhat-like boards covering the fruit. “This is for sun protection! Don’t be fooled by their tough appearance—pineapples are actually very sensitive to sunburn,” Father Wu explained. We learned another unexpected lesson in the field: you can’t judge a fruit by its cover. While we knew fruits with thin skins like dragon fruit are prone to sun damage, we were surprised that even spiky, hard-shelled pineapples require such delicate care. “Yes,” Father Wu continued, “if they get sunburned, the pineapples look charred on the outside, which really hurts their appearance.” He added that excessive heat can also cause pineapples to crack and makes them more susceptible to pests. With all these layers of protection, all that’s missing is sunscreen!

Besides being afraid of sun and heat, pineapples are also vulnerable to excess water. Pineapples with high water content are less sweet and don’t store well. Father Wu said that there are at least two reasons pineapples might grow into “imperfect” shapes: first, improper fertilization or lack of farming experience can result in insufficient dormancy time, which affects the fruit’s appearance. Second, the weather plays a huge role. If heavy rain or prolonged rainy seasons hit during the growing period and the drainage is poor, the pineapples can’t grow properly and become undernourished. If the fruit is on the edge of the field and soaked even longer, it might not ripen at all and ends up discarded as unsellable.

Because pineapples in Taiwan are often used for offerings, people tend to prefer large and perfect-looking fruit. As a result, small but equally sweet and juicy pineapples were often just cut up for home consumption or given to friends and relatives. Now, the younger Brother Wu is helping his parents by marketing their pineapples online. “My dad and I both say that the small ones are actually the sweetest and tastiest—the big ones just look good,” he laughed. After visiting the farm, we left with a wealth of new knowledge: next time you buy fruit, don’t just judge it by size. Remember the advice from pineapple farmers—small ones are just as delicious, if not more!

Hardship Comes in Many Forms

After hearing Father Wu talk about the challenges of pineapple farming, we thought we had already grasped how tough it was. But behind every farmer’s toil, there are even more layers of hardship. “This year’s pandemic was so bad we couldn’t even buy fertilizer,” Father Wu sighed. Due to global supply chain disruptions, key ingredients for fertilizer—often imported—became unavailable. As a result, not only did pineapple exports suffer, but even securing enough fertilizer became a serious issue. “In my 60 years of life, I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said.

In past years, about 90% of their exports went to China. “We need exports to keep the price good and to move volume,” he explained. Domestic sales, on the other hand, face issues like high shipping costs and limited storage capacity, which makes it difficult for farmers to meet expectations. According to Father Wu, nearly everyone lost money this year. Although there are subsidy programs, small farms like “Wu Juli” often struggle to qualify for large agricultural machinery grants.

After chatting in depth with Brother Wu and Father Wu, we came to understand that farming is far from straightforward. Even with what seemed like mountains of pineapples before us, it’s never as simple as calculating profit by market price. “Labor costs and fruit quality can affect everything. One bad harvest, and the losses can be huge,” Father Wu recalled. In 2018, pineapples were overproduced and couldn't be exported. “We left all the pineapples in five plots of land to rot—didn’t harvest a single one.” For farmers, the emotional toll is heavy. After nurturing fruit for an entire year, they hate to see it wasted. Yet if they do harvest, after deducting shipping and labor costs, there may be no profit at all—just more effort wasted. Selling at auction yields even lower prices and higher losses. If they don’t sell out, they even have to pay for product disposal. Truly heartbreaking.

New Farmers, New Mindsets

Brother Wu, who connected with us for this interview, has another identity—he’s also a tech industry engineer. “My parents don’t know how to use computers, so I came back to help them expand sales channels. That way, when prices drop, we won’t suffer such big losses.” It’s worrisome when exports fall short and domestic prices are low. Not every piece of fruit is large and perfect. Fruits that are just as delicious but don’t meet market standards—like small or misshapen pineapples—are hard to give up, but often end up wasted.

By chance, Brother Wu found Good Island (果嶼), which gave these small pineapples a second life. Now, they are no longer doomed to be destroyed.

“If you ask what makes ours special, I think our pineapples taste better than others—they still have that traditional pineapple flavor and aren’t overly sweet.” Taking care of pineapples is no easy job, especially for someone in his twenties. But there’s no weariness on Brother Wu’s face, only filial piety toward his parents and pride in his family’s pineapples. Though he doesn’t yet have the time to fully take over farm management, he helps during the busiest seasons and looks for new sales opportunities. “We’ll try selling the big ones online, and the smaller ones will go to Good Island for drying or other processing.”

“If consumers buy directly from the farm online, the produce market doesn’t take a cut, and we can ship straight to their homes,” he said. Brother Wu is passionate about creating new consumption models. However, shipping costs remain a major issue. Many couriers don’t deliver fruit, and just one box could cost nearly NT$200 in freight. During delivery, bruising can affect the fruit’s appearance, and consumers often blame the farmers—even when the issue wasn’t their fault. Farmers end up offering apologies, discounts, or replacements out of their own pocket.

“Come have some pineapple!” Wu’s mother called from the edge of the field, generously slicing fresh pineapples for everyone to try. “This is how real farmers eat pineapple,” she said. Though we only spent a few hours with them, we truly felt their warmth, smiles, sweat, and hard work. Before we left, Mr. and Mrs. Wu gifted us a box of pineapples—including a charming, two-headed misshapen one. It was adorable. Knowing that Good Island’s dried fruits and jams are made from such lovingly grown produce, we couldn’t be more grateful.

If you also want your family to enjoy fruits and dried goods that are free of preservatives and full of the nutrients nurtured by the earth, we invite you to keep following the stories of Good Island and our local farmers.