
The banana is the most popular fruit in the United States and around the world. An average person eats nearly 100 bananas a year. Bananas
San Diego, California – Every week in San Diego, more than 50 million bananas arrive quietly at the 10th Avenue Marine Terminal aboard a Dole cargo ship. They travel thousands of miles from Central America and are quickly moved into circulation, destined for grocery stores and fruit bowls across the county. What’s less visible, however, is the energy that powers this supply chain—and the complicated history behind the corporation moving it.
Dole, long associated with the industrialization of fruit production and its notorious role in 20th-century Central American politics, has begun remaking its image in San Diego. The company now touts electrification, shore power, and zero-emissions goals as part of its broader effort to clean up its operations and align with the Port of San Diego’s Maritime Clean Air Strategy.
According to port officials, Dole’s ships have been plugging into shore power since 2010—part of a long-term plan to reduce emissions from diesel-powered engines while docked. When a Dole vessel arrives on Sunday, it connects to a 3.5-megawatt electrical line—enough to power its refrigeration systems and keep those millions of bananas cool as they’re offloaded and distributed. It’s a quiet but significant change from the days when ships idled at dock, coughing out fumes next to downtown San Diego.
In tandem, Dole has converted 35% of its utility tractor rig (UTR) fleet to electric, with plans to reach full electrification by 2030. That shift has been supported in part by public funding—including state CORE grants and an EPA-backed initiative in partnership with the Port.
The new technology helps. It also helps Dole’s public image.
“This is the kind of smart investment that helps fight climate change and cleans up the air that families breathe,” said San Diego County Supervisor Nora Vargas.
Still, beneath the press releases and congratulatory statements lies an uncomfortable truth: Dole’s modern sustainability pivot doesn’t erase its past. The company profited heavily from the Banana Wars and U.S. military interventions that propped up export-friendly regimes. It helped engineer the conditions for monoculture, economic dependency, and genetically modified crops—decisions that prioritized yield and shelf-life over biodiversity and labor rights.
That legacy makes Dole’s current efforts feel more like reparative branding than radical transformation.
But for portside residents breathing cleaner air, those electric forklifts and plug-in ships matter now. And for city leaders trying to balance industrial activity with public health, they offer a blueprint—however imperfect—for how modern infrastructure might reconcile with old systems built for profit, not people.
As bananas continue to flow from dock to dinner table, the question lingers: Can cleaner operations ever truly scrub away a dirty history?