Japanese blueberry good fit for area
P.J. GARTIN
The Post and Courier
Japanese blueberry (Elaeocarpus dentatus) makes a splendid urban tree.
If you're an earnest gardener, then you've probably met a few pseudo-horticulturalists who love to intentionally drop botanical names. No, I'm not talking about folks from Great Britain. They are wont to call up Latin epithets as easily as some Americans recite baseball statistics. It's simply part of their gardening culture.
Instead, I'm referring to the bores who spout scientific names simply because it makes them feel intellectually superior. While many of us cheerfully accept gardening as a competitive, albeit quirky, sport, botanical put-downs are, well, unsportsmanlike.
However, I'm happy to report that I've finally discovered a way to spoil this botanical sham. The next time you sense that someone is showing off while questioning your familiarity with such-and-such, look him straight in the eye and ask if the plant in question is similar to Vaccinium japonica. If the person is truly a plantsman, he'll politely tell you that no such Japanese blueberry species exists, or at least show some interest in your spurious Latin name.
The real Japanese blueberry (Elaeocarpus dentatus) is a tree, and it's too bad that it hasn't found a home in Lowcountry landscapes.
I know of only one growing locally. It's thriving at the College of Charleston just off St. Philip Street across from the Simons Center for the Arts.
Although grounds supervisor John Davis planted this broad-leaved evergreen tree next to the School of Humanities and Social Sciences building in 1995, I ignored this fellow until Davis stuck a plant marker near the base of its trunk. Like others who are unfamiliar with Japanese blueberry, I assumed that it was just another loblolly bay (Gordonia lasianthus).
To a casual passer-by, loblolly and Japanese blueberry have similar-looking bright green leaves that are slightly elliptic or oblong. But if one is truly paying attention (and obviously, I wasn't), the telltale difference is in the flowers. Loblolly's white flowers are five times larger than Japanese blueberry's five-petaled springtime blooms. These half-inch flowers develop into oblong, navy-blue drupes in the fall. Their dusty tint is reminiscent of blueberries, Vaccinium spp., hence the name.
Japanese blueberry is native to New Zealand, and some folks down there go to the trouble of pickling the fruit and treating them like olives. Others remove the skins, mash the berries into pulp, and then blend them into cake batter. This all seems like a lot of trouble to me although the idea of a blue-fruited martini sounds like fun.
Japanese blueberry makes a splendid urban tree. Indifferent to soil types, from sandy loam to clay, and nonchalant about slightly acidic or alkaline situations, all it needs is diligent watering when first planted.
Japanese blueberry can reach a height of about 40 feet at maturity. However, it responds well to occasional pruning, so keeping it clipped to a smaller size does not eventually ruin its overall shape.
Although this charming tree has no negative attributes, there are a couple of caveats connected to it. First, it is difficult to find, and I have yet to find a nursery or retailer that offers it. (Yes, one can start this plant from seed, but it takes up to two years for it to germinate.) The second cautionary note returns us to horticultural nomenclature. Are botanical names really that important? You bet your sweet bay they are. It turns out that the common name "Japanese blueberry" is often attributed to other Elaeocarpus species.
A glossy, green-leaved species, E. decipiens is offered through Monrovia (http://tinyurl.com/5s5n2v), and an Australian version named E. reticulatus also exists. They should survive our Lowcountry weather.
No matter how frustrating scientific appellations are to pronounce and remember, without them, gardening would turn into a horticultural Tower of Babble.
P.J. Gartin has been a Charleston County Clemson Extension Service Master Gardener since 1990. She is the author of the book "Some Like It Hot: Flowers That Thrive in Hot Humid Weather" (Gibbs Smith, 2007). E-mail her at askamg@hotmail.com.
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