A La Conner family farm has turned to artificial intelligence to stay ahead of the tater game.
Last year, John and Wylie Thulen bought an AI potato grading machine for the business they own and run together, Pioneer Potatoes. The father-son duo said the machine is helping the farm keep up with competitors by reducing expenses, improving quality and increasing productivity in the face of rising labor costs and staffing challenges.
Potatoes at Thulen farms get sorted and packed into boxes bearing the likenesses of John Thulen’s grandmother and grandfather, respectively.
John said the machine cost a few million dollars, but had they waited, tariffs would have made the purchase unaffordable.
“This is what it takes for us to survive,” he said.
On a late January morning — just a week from Potato Lovers Month — Pioneer Potatoes’ packing shed near Mount Vernon rumbled with the sound of music, machines and thousands of tumbling tubers.
Standing on a metal bridge overseeing the hustle and bustle, it was difficult to keep track of the potatoes lined on the four conveyor chains below as they rushed their way to a quick — and quite thorough — photoshoot.
Waiting for them was what could be likened to a metal photo booth, its interior equipped with three cameras on the ceiling and two on the side walls, tasked with instantly taking 90 photos of each rolling potato as it passed below.
Wylie Thulen oversees the AI potato sorting process, pointing out how the software grades, sizes and sorts the potatoes then automatically sends them to the right lane for processing. The introduction of this software not only keeps Thulen up to date with larger farms, but also provides an easier workday for employees.
Potato portraits, plenty of them
When John lifted one of the booth’s sides for a peek, he revealed a chamber with rapid flashes of light illuminating the potatoes. The machine photographs over 900,000 potatoes daily, or between 120 tons and 150 tons of starchy goodness, he estimated.
In the computer room, Wylie could see all the flaws that AI was able to detect — dark spots, cuts and anything the Thulens directed the system to look for. The AI can also calculate the potato’s weight based on the size seen in the photos.
While yellow potatoes are the most popular, the system also can learn how to evaluate other varieties grown by Pioneer Potatoes, which John said is “mind-blowing.”
Once the potatoes pass through the photo booth, the machine uses the data to decide the fate of each, operating flippers to flick them down into the right exit and ensuring no product is wasted.
The smooth and spotless potatoes end up in the box that is delivered to stores, where shoppers tend to favor good-looking produce. Those with visible flaws are sent to a processing facility or a food establishment or, if they’re too ugly and less fit for human consumption, they become food for livestock, John said.
John Thulen lifts the door to the AI photo machine that images and then sorts the potatoes automatically.
Faster than the human eye
For the most part, the previous system was already efficient. However, John said, AI took production to a whole new level.
“The human eye can’t grade this fast,” he said.
Before the Elisam AI potato grading machine arrived at the shed, the potatoes would simply run through a mechanical sizer, then be transported through a line of workers tasked with manual sorting. The mechanical sizer was sometimes inaccurate, and workers would become less precise as the hours passed and they grew tired.
Whereas they were struggling to recruit and retain staff to work at the shed, the Thulens can now comfortably operate with a small team of about 11. Before buying the machine, the shed needed 25 employees, but Wylie said they struggled to recruit more than 18.
It was fine as long as there were 10 people grading the potatoes, he said, but as the season reached its final months, that number would drop to six, affecting the quality of the product.
What used to be a six-day work week has now shrunk to a four- to five-day work week. If they were to experience another pandemic, they’d still be able to work with a staff of four and even operate the machine remotely, John said.
Decades ago, John’s grandfather Archie Peth did not want to use tractors. To him, horses were much better because they didn’t need fuel and knew the way home.
But the agricultural industry has changed significantly since then, and John, who might have been more skeptical of AI two years ago, now expects it will become increasingly crucial in ensuring farms like his own can stay in business and continue to support the community.
It isn’t a perfect technology, and the varieties of produce that are less photogenic might disappear some day, he said.
Still, he sees no better alternative.
“Did I like the old way? Well, I did. But now that I’m here, I don’t wanna go back,” he said.
Luisa Loi is a general assignment reporter for La Conner Community News.
