By Dr Clive Dalton
Fleece weight and wool
quality
Fleece weight was always an important trait for Sheeplan breeders
in the days when wool was worth improving. Today it’s a different story,
although it cannot be totally ignored – and there’s always somebody talking up
a great future for wool. Farmers have heard this talk for the last 40 years!
Recording in the woolshed
Hogget fleece weight (HFW) was the key trait for Sheeplan breeders
to record as it was a good indication of lifetime wool production (i.e. it had
high repeatability) and was regularly passed on to future generations (i.e. it
had high heritability.
HFW was also easy to measure, as all you needed was a set of scales
and a tray to hold the wool. Many breeders used banana boxes to hold fleeces
while waiting to be weighed. Nothing could be simpler - and another simple and cheap idea from somebody which we
publicised in MAF publications.
If you needed to record more data on the fleece like staple
length, soundness etc, you could grab a mid-side sample from the fleece on the
floor or the person on the wool table could take one. With fine-wooled flocks
more data were collected by the shed wool classer.
Breeders soon developed slick routines to weigh wool, and shearers
were most cooperative to allow the brass tag to be read (usually for a higher
pay rate), when opening up the belly.
This was why we always recommended that sheep should be tagged in the
left ear (which stuck out behind the shearer’s left arm), as most shearers were
right handed.
Our technicians at Whatawhata and at other MAF research stations
were always coming up with improvements, and I was always keen to use our MAF
Flock & Herd magazine to publish these, and ideas that Sheep and Beef
officers had seen in their own areas.
Bram Uljee was a master at developing new tricks, which we tried out at
Whatawhata and improved on where possible. Along with my technician David Hall we can claim one
invention – the shearing lectern!
The shearing lectern
The Dalton/Hall lectern - 40 years old! |
It
was best if you could read the tag (in the sheep’s left ear) without having to
touch it and certainly not to pull the tag clear, as an extra jump by the sheep
was not appreciated by the shearer.
After
the tag was read, the number went on a ticket, which you then kept, usually
between your lips while you swept the board with the broom or rake. You then had to find a place for your
pencil (ballpoints were no good with the wool grease) and I envied our staff
who could hold a pencil behind their ears – I couldn’t!
After
the last blow you first put the broom down quietly on the floor (dropping it
near the shearer’s left ear at your peril), picked up the fleece, belly and
pieces to put on the scales with the ticket on top. By this time, the shearer
had the next sheep on the board and it was rapid fire again.
It
was the job of another staff member to write the fleece weight on the ticket,
which then sat it on the fleece before being given to the records technician on
the way to be thrown on the table.
If the table was wooled up, the fleece was put in a queue on the floor.
The record’s technician filled in the
large data sheets, which went to Ruakura and via punched cards disappeared into
the maw of the computer which at that time filled a whole wing of the main
tower block. You can get this
power today in a laptop!
The
record’s technician had to be wide-awake all the time, with the main problem
being mis-read tags and duplicated numbers. While reading the tag, it paid you to say the number out
aloud, to keep eye and brain in sync.
Anybody who we discovered had a touch of dyslexia was banished from tag
reading.
This
circus got to the stage where David Hall and I were sick of shearers’
expletives from falling brooms, holding dirty paper tickets in our mouths,
using our knees as writing desks, and finding places to hold greasy
pencils. A wee lectern was the
obvious solution.
David
and I did a sketch and took it to Neil Wood our station engineer and invention
genius, and Neil mocked up a prototype which worked like a charm from the word
go. The lectern held the tickets,
the pencil hung on a string, and that broom had a special clip all to itself on
the side - all in one place and saving a extra bending.
The
design was a joint venture we seem to remember, but I insisted on having my
name alone on the side clip for the blardy broom! I could never resist giving
mock blessings from the lectern to stir things up, and enjoying the shearers’
unprintable responses.
Technology
has thankfully moved on, and breeders today have a massive range of electronic
wizardry to record fleece weigh, if indeed it’s worth bothering about. All this was all 40 years ago, so you
can imagine the thrill I got when at a recent Whatawhata Field Day in the
woolshed I saw our four now rusting lecterns still there. I had to set one up for an historic
photo. But I somehow resisted giving the crowd a blessing!
Fleece weight from liveweight
The other way you could select for fleece weight in Sheeplan was
through liveweight, as if you kept on breeding heavier hoggets, you’d end up with
sheep that produced more wool because of the high phenotypic and genetic
correlation between fleece weight and body weight.
So all you needed a set of scales, which in those days were a
crate to hold the sheep suspended on a spring balance. These were ugly noisy contraptions with
doors banging just at the moment the tag reader called out the number. We tied
bits of old bicycle tube on the gates to deaden the noise. You could never wait till the scale
pointer came to rest so took the middle reading of the pointer’s vibrations.
A company called ‘Donalds’ made both sheep and cattle scales where
the weight forced a liquid up a tube on a scale, and we used them for a while
before the wonderful arrival of the first electronics.
So right from the start, through our MAF publications we
encouraged commercial sheep farmers to put their top Sheeplan rams over their hoggets
that had high fleece weights. This
was a challenge as commercial sheep farmers hadn’t tagged sheep before or
weighed wool. But good ideas
seemed to emerge – and it’s a pity now we can’t remember where they came from –
like the one below.
Somebody came up with the idea of a two-piece waterproof label on
a bit of elastic to go around a sheep’s neck, and a cardboard box with 20-25
divisions inside to put the labels in.
The labels were called Tallitags and Allflex sold them, and we can’t
remember who sold the boxes – maybe the same company.
Picture from Bram Uljee's book showing the wool on the scales, then the Talitag being put into the appropriate hole in the box, then the box at the end with raised lid showing the distribution of the fleece weight tags.
Picture from Bram Uljee's book showing the wool on the scales, then the Talitag being put into the appropriate hole in the box, then the box at the end with raised lid showing the distribution of the fleece weight tags.
This was the basic routine:
1. Decide on the
range of fleece weights in the mob in 100g steps, and mark these weights on the
holes in the box lid, starting with highest in the top left hole. The box had a
hinged lid to indicate the front and to avoid errors incase it got turned
around.
2. Just before each
shorn hogget goes down the hole, stretch the Tallitag on its elastic cord
around the sheep’s neck, tearing off one half to go with the fleece on the
scales.
3. The other half
stays on the hogget and will be legible for at least 10 days.
4. After weighing the
fleece, write the weight on the tag (as a double check) and post it through the
appropriate hole of the box.
5.
At the end of shearing, opening the lid reveals the range in
fleece weights in the mob.
6.
Work out how many hoggets you need to keep, and work back down
through the compartments with the declining weights until you have the number
you want.
7.
On a nice dry day, bring the hoggets back in, and put a permanent
brass tag in the keepers and mark the rest as culls.
This was such a great way to introduce ‘population genetics’ to
farmers through such a simple illustration of what a ‘normal distribution’ or
‘bell curve’ was – and most important of all, how to use this bit of applied
statistics to improve the flock.
This simple box full of Talitags showed farmers that most of the mob (two thirds) was
around the average; the 1/6th culls at the bottom end, and then the special
1/6th hoggets at the top end of the distribution. These top sheep always looked
a picture – so it wasn’t hard to get farmers to give them a permanent tag and
call them ‘the elite group’ or a ‘nucleus group’. Our SBOs went flat out to promote this concept, and that it
was worth paying decent money for Sheeplan rams to put over these top hoggets
to ensure rapid genetic gain.
The concern over the price of tags and the extra work in the
woolshed and office suddenly faded away!
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