HYDRANGEA NEWS
In the twenty-first century, all plant stories are international. Plants are developed in one place, registered or patented in various countries and sold everywhere. The plant you buy on a whim at the grocery store might as well have a passport. Its long, international chain of breeders, wholesale growers, large-scale buyers and merchandisers hope that you will purchase it, enjoy it while the blooms last and then throw it out so that you can enjoy another citizen of the real and horticultural world next month.
We have a weakness for hydrangeas in my household and last week my daughter and I succumbed to the charms of ‘Carina’, a delectable macrophylla or “mophead”-type hydrangea. As such plants go, ‘Carina’ was not overpriced and it looked healthy. That’s as good as it gets in the supermarket, especially in the desperate, dark and snowy days of January.
The plant has a single, enormous flowerhead featuring rose-pink petals with white edges. I always look for a slight browning around the petal edges, which bespeaks a plant that has been just a bit too long on the retailer’s shelf. ‘Carina’ was fresh and dewy, with no browning. We were safe. I brought it home and gave it pride of place on the dining room table.
As with all things horticultural, I was immediately curious about my new plant’s origins. Fortunately I patronize a supermarket whose workers leave the plant tags in the pots, so I was able to glean vital information about ‘Carina’s pedigree.
The first two things I learned were ‘Carina’s varietal name and the fact that my hydrangea is a fairly new cultivar. How could I tell? The narrow plant tag read “patent applied for.” Patenting, along with trademark registration, is one of the plant breeders’ weapons of choice these days, because obtaining a patent signifies that the patented plant is a very specific and singular new variety and can’t be propagated legally without remuneration to and permission from the patent holder.
The small plant tag containing the name and patent information also credited “Bay City Flower Company, Inc.” Before researching that company, I scrutinized the second tag, a glossy, promotional hangtag that had been attached to one of the stems. The hangtag bore the name “Hana Bay Flowers” and boasted of the company’s hundredth anniversary. The reverse side of the hangtag had care instructions and the grower’s address. Hana Bay Flowers is part of Bay City Flower Company, which is headquartered in Half Moon Bay, California.
The internet is a wonderful aid to plant sleuthing and with a few well-chosen search terms, I found out that the patent application for ‘Carina’ was made September 10, 2010 by Harrison Higaki, whose lawyer’s address is Oakland, California. By visiting the Hana Bay website, I found out that Hana Bay Flowers was founded 100 years ago by a young Japanese immigrant, Nobuo Higaki. The company site showed a picture of Harry Higaki, a middle-aged man, whose picture bore the caption “our inspirational second generation leader.” The copy also makes reference to the company’s reputation as a grower and its location just south of San Francisco. It doesn’t take too much of an intellectual stretch to figure out that “Harry” is actually the “Harrison” of the patent application.
The application details why ‘Carina’ is patent-worthy. The original plant was found in a production growing area devoted to another macrophylla called ‘Orion’, which has dark red petals and white margins. ‘Carina’ is, therefore, most likely the offspring of ‘Orion’. ‘Carina’ differs from other hydrangeas and its parent by having a specific, stable color pattern, strong growth habit and fairly small leaves for its species. No doubt Mr. Higaki is hoping that the patent office will agree with his assessment of ‘Carina’s unique qualities.
‘Orion’ is originally from Germany, having been developed by brothers Franz- Xaver and Konrad Rampp at their business, Rampp Hydrangea Nurseries in Bavaria. The Rampp brothers specialize in large-flowered, genetically dwarfed varieties of hydrangea macrophylla–perfect for container or patio culture. If you have shopped retail catalogs or nurseries in the last few years, you have probably seen vividly colored hydrangeas from their “City Line” series, each of which is named after a different European city.
So my ‘Carina’ is a good American–child of a German immigrant plant, born and raised in California by a Japanese-American family and transported across the country to an adopted home in New Jersey. According to the tag, it is only hardy in USDA Zones 8-9 or Zone 7 with winter protection. I live in Zone 6, but the tag also advises that when dormant, the plant can survive minimum winter temperatures of 20 degrees Fahrenheit. We don’t often exceed that in this area. I am going to defy the expectations of merchandisers and try ‘Carina’ in my garden next summer. I’ll swathe it in protective covering next winter and we’ll see what happens. “New Jersey” is frequently more a state of mind than a geographical location. I think ‘Carina’ can become a naturalized resident.