BORDEN, Prince Edward Island – For the first time in his 37 years of farming, Elmer MacDonald is approaching the spring planting season on Prince Edward Island with trepidation and uncertainty.

Across the broad fields of the MacDonald Brothers farm near Borden in southern Prince Edward Island, the retreating snow is being replaced by a new cover that brings heartache to Island farmers: millions of chopped up, unsalable potatoes sprayed over the fields like a huge pan-fry.

MacDonald and other Island farmers are disposing of millions of spuds because of an obscure fungus called the potato wart that turned up in a remote corner of one Island field last fall and which prompted U.S. authorities to close the border to Island potatoes.

As planting time approaches, the border is still sealed and there’s no sign of a change of heart on the American side.

“Right now, it doesn’t look very bright,” says MacDonald, who is trying to figure out how much to plant this spring.

“We’ve paid the supreme price. Our markets just keep shrinking and prices keep decreasing.”

It’s crunch time on the Island.

The provincial budget came down last week and it showed the ravages of the wart, which causes cauliflower-like growths on potatoes and renders them unmarketable.

A projected budgetary surplus turned into a deficit for 2001 because of emergency aid to farmers. And the economic outlook for the tiny province is grim if the U.S. border stays shut.

Analysts say the effect here is the same as it would be in Ontario if the automobile industry collapsed, or in Alberta if the oil and gas fields ran dry.

Ivan Noonan of the Prince Edward Island Potato Board says farmers are in a quandary, trying to figure out whether they should even bother growing spuds this year.

“Everybody has the same question, ‘What the hell am I going to do this spring’?” Noonan says.

“I say, ‘Try prayer’.”

There’s no such thing as small potatoes on Prince Edward Island. It’s big business and it’s the root of the economy.

“We believe the province has lost close to $250 million so far in overall economic losses as a result of potato wart,” says provincial Agriculture Minister Mitch Murphy.

“If the border remains closed, it will get worse.”

Islanders feel they’re victims of trade protectionism in the United States and victims of their province’s small size and lack of political clout in Canada.

The Island’s population is about 140,000.

In terms of Canada’s overall trade picture, the woes of Island growers are indeed small potatoes and easily overlooked in the much bigger trade battles over items like softwood lumber.

“I think there are cautious trade officials in the nation’s capital who don’t want to push too hard on potatoes in case they get pushed back on another file,” says Murphy.

Although Islanders are unhappy with Ottawa’s response to the potato wart crisis, they don’t want to lose sight of their real targets – the U.S. government and the huge American potato lobby.

“This isn’t about potato wart,” says MacDonald ruefully. “This is about trade.”

Island farmers are well aware that the Americans are sitting on huge stockpiles of their own over-produced potatoes and they’re convinced that’s the real reason they’ve been shut out of the U.S. market.

Ken Proudfoot, a potato breeder in Newfoundland and an authority on the potato wart, says there’s no scientific reason for Prince Edward Island spuds to be turned away at the border. He says the wart was isolated, contained and presents no threat to Island stock.

“There is no scientific justification for the U.S. decision to close its border to Island potatoes,” Proudfoot says.

Island farmers also say the United States shouldn’t pretend to be lily-white when it comes to the wart, which is harmless to humans.

There have been several outbreaks in at least three states during the past century, all of them in home gardens.

Meanwhile, there’s talk of a NAFTA panel to address the spud dispute, but that won’t help farmers this year.

“It’s 12 to 16 months anyway for those panels,” says Noonan. “That’s too late. We’ll all be dead and buried by then.”

MacDonald says he’s not going to give up. He’s vowing to put in a crop this year, although it’ll be smaller than in past years.

And he’s worried about his neighbors. He says there will be casualties as some farmers decide they can no longer afford the uncertainty, and close their operations.

“We have some people who are hurting very bad,” MacDonald says, gazing across his fields where patches of red earth show like blood through the melting snow and ruined potatoes.

“We have people who can’t afford heating oil and who have had their power shut off. These people are at the top of their limits with lending institutions. They’re distraught. All we can do at this point is hope.”