Langdam Farm: Rooted in History Growing with Purpose
 

Langdam Farm rests in the heart of the Koo Valley, beneath the slopes of the sprawling Langeberg Mountains. A lesser-known jewel of the Western Cape, it is situated near the historic town of Montagu, where the air is crisp and the soil ingrained with old fossils and stories. Our oldest records, from 1717 show that this land belonged to Joshua Joubert, a man whose legacy lives on in the shadows of the oak trees he planted. Langdam would come to be the first farm in Montagu. These oaks were not chosen at random; they were planted here as the colder climate of the Koo Valley would ultimately slow their growth, making the wood denser, stronger, and ideal for building ships that could weather the fiercest seas of the time.

That same principle—slow growth, deep strength—has come to define Langdam’s journey.














 

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A Dream Replanted
 

In 2015, Haiko Eric Ruther arrived at Langdam with a dream and a decade of hard-earned savings from working on offshore oil rigs. From the age of 19, he climbed the ranks in a high-pressure life at sea, rising from a cleaner earning minimum wage to a supervisor position.

As a young boy, Haiko had always wanted to become a farmer—a seed most likely instilled by his mother, who read to him, amongst other books, Lonesome Dove, which detailed the struggles and resilience of prairie pioneers and farmers. This instilled a fascination for a different way of life. Yet, raised by an academic father who envisioned another path for his son, farming had always felt out of reach.

Haiko had never been one to shy away from hard work, and the skills he developed offshore would continue to serve him well through many seasons, rendering him a jack of many trades. He found further fulfilment in reading novels, not as an escape but as a means of philosophical debate and bargaining with himself.

It would take a serious health scare to realise the sheer fragility of his existence—a call to change his way of life and rediscover his purpose.

He chose soil over sea, and what he thought would be simplicity over stress. Life quickly revealed that farming would bring with it a new kind of stress, but one that felt like a fair trade-off for having land to call his own.

The farm he bought was far from the thriving fruit farm he had imagined. The trees were failing, the soil depleted after generations of misguided practice. A mirror to his own circumstances, the land too was in need of healing. At 27, inexperienced yet undeterred, Haiko made the bold decision to start from scratch. Trees were pulled out. The land was burned to ash. It was a painful reset, but one that mirrored the slow, deliberate growth of the oak.














 

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Regeneration and Resilience
 

The early years were tough: onions, cabbages, and countless lessons in humility. Regenerative farming—particularly when correcting years of conventional practice—is not an easy or lucrative path. It is not just a method, but a philosophy one must enter into with faith, tenacity, and an almost reckless sense of optimism.

Over time, apple trees gave way to high-altitude vineyards, old-school apricots to new varietals, and cold-loving plums found their place. Dead, compacted soil was replenished into rich earth, alive with earthworms, bees, and bugs moving in by the thousands. The transformation was slow, but steady. Life returned to Langdam, and with it, new dreams for the future.

This dream would never have come to fruition without the support of the Koo Valley community, our team, and our family. Although there were sceptics, most residents welcomed an English outcast with broken Afrikaans. Originally from Rondebosch, Cape Town, with little life experience and no farming background, Haiko was integrated into a community of generational farmers who generously shared their knowledge, gained through years of trials and tribulations.

The Langdam family may not all be bound by blood or law, but we have weathered (quite literal) storms and droughts together, and those experiences have bonded us for life. Every member of the team brings a unique personality and skill set, shaping Langdam’s identity and success.

To support the farm during its challenging growth years—and to share the peace of the valley with others—it made sense to offer guest accommodation in the quaint, historical buildings on the farm. Modern comforts were added along the way, and the doors opened to four-legged friends as well. A love and respect for animals and nature remain central to the ethos of Langdam, where Haiko and his team have fostered a down-to-earth farm stay, steering away from a cookie-cutter approach. Authenticity is an intrinsic part of our hospitality.














 

 

 

A Living Metaphor

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Today, Langdam Farm is a living metaphor for the very oaks that stand watch over it. It grew slowly, through hardship and hope, and emerged stronger, more resilient, and deeply rooted in purpose.

The quiet success isn’t just in the harvest; it’s in the soil, the team, the community, and the shared experience of growth. Together, the difficulties will be overcome with resilience, optimism, and an unwavering sense of humour.

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Langdam reminds us: when you grow slowly, you grow strong. And when all is said and done, in the words of Stubbs in one of Haiko’s favourite novels, Moby-Dick:

“I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.”