July 2004
Author: Iain
In the Vineyard
Just one little word: hail.
Having lived, until this year, a life that where a monthly salary was
guaranteed, I didn’t really appreciate the impact that events,
completely outside of your control, can have upon your livelihood. On
the 7th July I was in my tractor trying for the umpteenth time to use
a borrowed rotavator to get a fine tilth finish on the rows that I had
previously ploughed up (and once again not being altogether successful,
oh well). Skies closed in and a storm started. Just finish the row,
I thought, and then get back to the house. By the time I reached the
end of the row the hail had started. Not just hail but bloody golf-ball-sized
chunks of ice. The noise on the tractor cabin was so startling that
I didn’t really consider the consequences for about half a minute.
The
hailstones were so ferocious that I had to park the tractor in shelter
before I could get out and wait for the storm to finish. I guess it
lasted for between 5 and 10 minutes but it seemed like hours. First
inspection of the grapes: hmm doesn’t seem too bad. Little did
I know that many were broken but you can’t really see anything
until the cuts start to change colour. After about two hours the damage
becomes more apparent. Very different for different areas of the vineyard
– the worst affected being the cabernet sauvignon (probably because
they had the least leaves – ironically our efforts at ebourgeonage
(removing excess growth) working against us – and because they
were in the area more exposed to the hail). It seemed that every single
cabernet sauvignon bunch had been hit. We are disconsolate.
It is an understatement to say that progress on the winery has been slow – all in all we reach a real low point. Jack’s mood was not improved when I pointed out that we probably won’t need the winery anyway.
After brooding overnight (there may have been some alcohol involved too) we decide to ‘fait le maximum’, starting with a trip – both of us, just in case - to Terres du Sud to talk to their technician about what we can do regarding the hail damage. ‘Did you do your botrytis spray at bunch closure?’ he asked. ‘yes’ (how could I forget, that’s the one that cost £1000!). ‘Is your mildew protection up to date’, ‘yes’. ‘Don’t worry about it then’ he said. After about another hour of are-you-sure type questions from us we leave feeling a bit better along with instructions to undertake a spray with a product called ‘folpel’ – ‘just to be sure’ - apparently the damaged berries should dry out and drop off with the treatments that we had previously made providing protection against the whole bunches turning into grey rot.
…and miraculously the affected berries start to shrivel up and
drop off the vines. After a couple of weeks we start to feel that the
crisis has passed. Then, on 21st July, it hails again! I remember sitting
on the bottom of the stairs with my head in my hands – the feeling
of powerlessness overwhelming. Fortunately the hailstones are smaller
this time and while the previous damage to the bunches is compounded,
at least it isn’t twice as bad. This second attack doesn’t
do much for our general level of satisfaction (understatement) but being
a little more hardened to the problem we survey the damage and arrange
another spray. Again the affected grapes begin to dry up and there is
no sign of any rot in the other grapes. Whew.
Apart from the upheaval caused by the hail the main job in the vines has been the thinning out/removal of bunches of grapes. Two reasons for this (i) the vines are so heavily laden with grapes this year that it is necessary to remove bunches to prevent crushing and subsequent rot problems and (ii) this is our final vineyard activity to reduce yield and therefore improve the quality of the wine.
We were fortunate to have a visitor join us from England. She had asked to visit us for a week to experience everyday life in the vineyard. So, without mercy, we press her and granddad, who is visiting for a month, into action with the sauvignon blanc. The sauvignon blanc are amazing. Huge number of bunches with all the grapes tightly packed (much tighter than any of the red grapes, even now in mid-August). But this is not a good thing – many bunches are tangled together, in some cases seeming like a solid wall of grapes. We start by deleafing – removing the leaves around the bunches of grapes on one side of the vine - and then each bunch has to be inspected and bunches removed to allow each remaining bunch to hang free. Cutting off the bunches is very difficult for us – odd to have to remove the very things that you’ve spent six months trying to grow – but it has to be done. There is even a perverse sense of satisfaction when you end up with a ‘prefect’ vine – sad really. It takes us many backbreaking hours and some help from José’s team to complete the task. But afterwards we are really pleased with the result which has the added benefit that it will make our manual harvest much easier to undertake. Our visitor from England works remarkably hard and we miss her contribution when she departs at the end of the week.
After the sauvignon blanc we attack the old merlot. We have about a
hectare that was planted in 1967 and we intend to use this for our premium
wine. We decide to reduce the yield, by removing about half of the bunches,
to 8 or (max) 9 bunches per vine. This is even more difficult than the
sauvignon blanc. Inevitably we leave more bunches than our target so
I (J just couldn’t bring herself to do it!) had to make a second
pass afterwards, ruthlessly cutting off any more than the agreed 9.
Another
watershed point this month. The grapes start to change colour (this
stage of growth is called veraison). On 29th July we spot a couple of
bunches of merlot that have turned red. I find this pretty scary –
reinforcing the stark reality that the grapes are going to be ready
even if we’re not!
I have now done more than 200 hours in the tractor (tractors measure
hours of activity rather than miles travelled). Equivalent to 27 solid
days of seven and a half hours. I have to confess that most tractor
jobs are now thoroughly boring, so if anyone fancies a try…..to
be fair to J though she has given the tractor a try – spending
most of a day cutting grass – and very successful it was too.
The Winery
We live in hope but hope is certainly not enough. We are now (July 13th) feeling very much like the people in programs like ‘No Going Back’ (until this month I guess we thought that there wasn’t really enough drama here to be of interest to anyone but we’re now at the stage of needing a whole series rather than just one episode!) thanks to our very French builder. He is every bit the typical builder you see on these programs…full of promises of work starting the next day, which of course it doesn’t, always agreeing to complete work by so-and-so and of course failing spectacularly. We are some six weeks away from harvest, the grapes are ripening, and the winery is nowhere near ready. It has got this far –
To make our month complete our neighbours decide to take a dislike to the winery – both in terms of the size/position and the noise of its construction (which is rather more sporadic than we would like!). To be fair to them, it is very noisy at times and we’re building it close to the edge of their property – but conversations about it seem impossible and at one point the neighbour says to Jack ‘well you’re stupid’ – which even allowing for his age (over 80) is not acceptable. Edging closer to the commencement of hostilities we try to avoid them as much as possible over the next couple of weeks but we do overhear some heated discussions between him and the builders. Naturally the builders are able to hold their own. We also receive a visit from the local Mairie to check what we’re doing (as a result of a complaint by our neighbour) – more like a friendly chat about making wine than any kind of inspection, no worries there. We explain the situation to José, who puts the entire situation down to the fact that the neighbours are Belgian.
Remarkably, by the end of the month, the walls are complete and plastering
of the interior has started. There remains some hope.
The latest pictures are in our winery section.
Daily Life
To be quite honest there is too much work going on to have much of a life at the moment. I play tennis with José on Sunday mornings which is now becoming a bit of a tradition – quick coffee beforehand, a thrash around the court, cold coke afterwards, buy the Sunday paper and some bread and back home around lunchtime. We both enjoy it and our game is (very) slowly improving.
Dad has been here for most of the month and has now tried out his new house. No dramatic problems with the house so far, thank goodness. Dad returns to England thinking hard about whether he should buy a French car to be a bit more independent/self-sufficient.
We treat ourselves to a day off and visit St Emilion with dad and our guest from England. Even after many visits it is still one of our favourite places.
Beck’s, of course, is on school holidays which seem to last about
six months. She’s spending lots of time at the riding stables
which she loves more and more and towards the end of the month leaves
for a holiday in England. She has a fantastic time, staying with all
her old friends and with Ben and Thomas before joining Chris (my brother)
and his family for a trip to Eurodisney. The holiday means that we are
able to get loads done in the vines but we worry that when Rebecca returns
she will be a touch bored with life here.
