The Traveller’s Palm belongs to the banana family

The natural order Bromeliaceae contains over 2000 species, and most of them are tree dwellers (epiphytic), while a large number have an urn-shaped arrangement of leaves, the main purpose of which is to collect water.  The water is life to thousands of different insects, rare frogs (particularly in Trinidad) and plants such as the Bladderwort of Roraima called Utricularia humboltii.  In other parts of the world the ability to store water is an important adaptation to dry conditions and a means of distributing plants. Ravenala madagascariensis, commonly known as the Traveller’s Palm is not a true palm, but a member of the banana family. Many people think it has the name Traveller’s Palm because it generally (though not always) arranges its leaves on an east/west axis in order to catch most of the sunlight during the day. I believe that its name arose because, like the bromeliads, it is also a source of water which is collected in the flower bracts and leaf bases – the latter holding a good two gallons. It is used as a watering hole by birds and monkeys, both of which travel for many miles in search of water. When the leaves of the Traveller’s Palm finally start dying off, and fall below the horizontal, the stored water runs off them and onto the ground and a surprisingly large number of seeds which have been carried by birds and monkeys from plants some little distance away pour out as well. This consequent seed germination indicates the distance travelled by their depositors.

This brings me nicely to the question of seeds and their germination, an absolutely fascinating subject. Whilst most seeds can be sown normally and covered lightly by soil afterwards, not all seeds respond in the same way.  For example, everyone on the planet can germinate fresh lettuce seed and mustard and cress in just a few days. Especially in Guyana. But one can hang around for months and months waiting for some seed to germinate, a couple of cases in point being the Australian Gum (Eucalyptus species) and the South African Protea.  The seeds of these two plants are as hard as old boots. Harder in fact, and this always provides entertainment to gardeners having pyromaniac tendencies. In nature the job of cracking open seed coats is often done by bush or veldt fires passing quickly over seed. In the potting shed the seed of eucalyptus, proteas, and the canna (very common in Guyana) can be cracked by placing them in a small ball of tissue paper and setting fire to it. This simple act is normally sufficient to get things cracking. For the faint-hearted chipping the hard seed coat with a knife on the other side of the eye is effective as well, if not so much fun. Other types of seed can have their germination helped by soaking them in water for a few hours before sowing, and seed from the pea and bean family actually swell up very quickly when placed in water.  When this happens they have to be planted very quickly so that they do not dry out. An old revered friend of mine, a wonderful gardener called Lou Stenning, and my predecessor as curator of the Tropical Department at the Royal Botanic Garden, Kew, used to sow seed of orchids and nepenthes (one of the Pitcher plants from Borneo) in an interesting and highly successful way. He filled pots with sphagnum moss and old orchid compost comprising mainly osmunda fibre packed as tightly as possible. He then stretched a piece of old silk or nylon stocking very tightly over the top of the pot and sowed this seed onto the surface.  The moss-filled pot, put to stand in shallow water, provided constant moisture and the texture of the material was fine enough to hold this very fine dust like seed.  Germination was always excellent.

May your God go with you wherever you are.