In 2000, Brett Cirillo sold most of his cows, but within two years, he’d fired up the old dairy and was back in the industry.
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In October 2024, he again sold most of his cows, but this time his family’s Bungador farm is also on the market.
As he nears 50, the third-generation farmer isn’t expecting a third incarnation of his farming career.
Brett is going out on top, having been named a Holstein Australia Master Breeder earlier in the year, but a dip in milk price and predictions of a tough season proved to be a breaking point.
“I’m turning 50 in 2025. A few years ago, I was almost in a financial hole but got myself out of it. When the milk price came out 12 cents lower, I said it was time to sell,” he said.
“I didn’t really want to sell my cows, but I couldn’t see the point in keeping going and didn’t want to risk going into another hole.”
The farm had been operating under a family partnership with his parents Tony and Joy.
Brett needed a break from the industry in 2000, but it didn’t take him long to return.
He had kept 15 cows on friends’ farms and resumed milking with them, before quickly expanding with 70 cows from another herd.
When some of his heifers started calving, and he bought another 100 cows, he was soon leasing a farm with a herd pushing 400.
“Having staff and being big wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I came back here and restarted the dairy, with Dad milking in the mornings and me at night,” Brett said.
That routine continued until the shutdown on November 9.
“We never had any staff except for relief milkers twice when my sisters got married. Back in the day, I wouldn’t go anywhere because I didn’t like anyone milking my cows,” he said.
When the original herd was sold, most were under his parents’ Bramlewen stud, but Brett had started his own Ambrewlea stud in the late 1990s.
He built up a “motley crew” to get back in the game, but soon focused on a pure Holstein herd.
“When Dad started in 1979, he had a Jersey herd, but the farm had one tree, a windmill and 220 acres in one paddock,” Brett said.
“It was cold and wet and he thought Jerseys weren’t tough enough. That’s when we went black and white.”
While he was a bit shocked to be named a master breeder, especially after the interruption between 2000-02, Brett had an early interest in breeding and a keen eye for a good cow and bull.
“When I was young, I liked a certain type of cow, and I don’t think that ever changed,” he said.
“I wanted them big, square, capacious and strong.”
He appreciated the value of classified and registered cows, but wasn’t one to follow trends or new technologies.
“I was happy doing my own thing and never really changed my breeding habits,” Brett said.
“If anything, I went more home-bred and less bought-in. Because I was big on temperament, the cattle from my own bulls were so much quieter … I knew what I was going to get.
His main aim was to breed cows that produced well, lasted a long time and were quiet and easy to manage, with the overriding focus summed up by the sign on his gate — Bred to Last.
“I wanted good cows that lived a long time,” Brett said, reflecting his dislike of disruptive cows and needing to bring in large groups of heifer replacements.
“In general, I don’t like heifers because I don’t like bad temperament.
“Anything that raised my blood pressure in the dairy, got sold. I can’t stand cows that fidget or kick in the dairy.”
The focus on mild-mannered, long-living cows worked with two of the remaining cows on his property aged 21 and 20.
Brett was never influenced by new technologies, steering clear of genomics, not worrying about high BPIs and sticking with bulls out of proven cows.
“I’m very traditional and never budge,” he said.
“I’ve always looked at the bull’s mother, and if I didn’t like her, I didn’t use the bull. Unless she was a high type cow with good production, I wasn’t interested.”
He was always interested in pedigree cows, as was his father, who saw the benefits of good, registered cattle.
The most successful family in his herd, the Rose family, came into play after Tony swapped two lesser cows for a pedigree Rose cow.
“Pedigree cows have always been worth more money because of the traceability,” Brett said.
“You can buy a beautiful looking cow, but her mum might be a donkey, and donkeys breed donkeys.”
The dairy was turned off on November 9 — he now calls it the “ghost dairy” — and at the time of writing the land is still on the market.
“I had the farm going the best it had been with a new feed pad and improved tracks, but I decided it was time,” Brett said.
He remains unsure about his next plans.
“I have no interest in relief milking; I liked milking my cows, not others. I’m hoping to buy a small farm for chickens and horses and continue a small beef operation,” he said.
He retains some cows on the farm and others being milked by friends, but Brett doubts he’ll make another comeback to dairying.
But he leaves on a high note with a solid sale of cows, with the vast majority selling despite many being quite senior, and the Holstein Australia Master Breeder title.
“That’s definitely a career highlight, especially to do it straight up after selling the herd and starting again,” he said.
“It would have been horrible to miss by a year because I’d sold the cows.”
DNA writer