Friday, March 30, 2007

From Dusk 'till Dawn

Pinot arriving

It’s couple of weeks into the harvest and after a day of rain, we have the night off of work because the grapes are too wet to process. With rain, the vines soak in the water and dilute the sugar inside the grapes, so they need a day or so of sun to re-concentrate. Today was sunny, and we’re not expecting to receive any grapes for about 30 hours – which is tomorrow at midnight. And since I work on the receiving team, well, there’s not a lot to do without fruit.

Chardonnay

But the last two weeks have been busy and work is going well. On busy nights, we receive around 500 tons of grapes. All told, 90% of what we process is sauvignon blanc and chardonnay, but we will also process some pinot noir and merlot. Most of that is actually trucked down from the vineyard on the North Island and ferried across Cook Strait.



cleaning the destemmer

The local grapes are harvested according to ripeness and arrive almost without warning. We have a tentative time as to when they’ll arrive on site. Fortunately, in receiving we don’t worry about from where the trucks come – we just run the white grapes from the receiving bin through the destemmer and crusher and into a press (reds go through the destemmer and bypass the presses on their way to open-top fermentation tanks). Grape juice goes into tanks in the winery to begin fermentation, and conveyors takes the empty skins back outside to trucks waiting to take them away. The entire process, from the grapes arriving in the receiving bin to empty skins leaving the building takes between 3 and 4.5 hours. We have 10 presses, each capable of processing 32 tons at a time, and when we’re really busy they’re all running and trucks are waiting outside for the next available spot.

Out of the crusher

Some nights I run the destemmer/crusher, which is the more exciting of my two positions. I work with the trucks to back them in and unleash their grapes. Twenty tons at a time hitting the receiving bin shakes the entire set up, sending a wave toward the back of the bin and grapes flying in all directions. We add sulfur and enzymes on the way to the presses, and that’s where my other job begins. When I’m not running the destemmer/crusher, I work on the floor with the presses. They’re almost fully automated, so I basically watch the juice bins, make more additions, and initiate changes in press cycles. When the pressing is complete, new grapes replace old ones within minutes, and it all starts again.

The end of the day is near



We do this all night, and in the rare slow moments, we clean. On clear days we can see first light around 5:30, and the sun rise signals the end of our day. The same people for whom we took over twelve hours earlier relieve us at 6:45, and we take the bus back home. If you’re interested in calling, I wake up around 4pm and leave for work just after 6.





Red punch downs

Sunday, March 18, 2007

March of Darkness

I’m sitting in my living room writing and behind me smoke rises - better – blows across the horizon. The Wither Hills are alive with the sound of wildfire, and I’m content to sit and watch them burn from a long way away. It’s been a crazy week, and after a double-celebration weekend, I need the rest.



On Wednesday it poured rain in the valley. However, 20 miles south of the winery, high in the hills, there was snow. The view from work on Thursday as the clouds finally cleared revealed the beginning of autumn in New Zealand – the first real snow of the year. It was beautiful, and it made me want to go skiing.

Snow on the highest peaks, people in the ocean. Perfect?

On Friday after work, we went to White’s Bay for a pre-harvest bar-be-que. We ate and drank and swam in the ocean below (distant) snow-covered mountains. We played rugby on the beach as the sun set on the tranquil part of our lives. The winemakers told us that on Wednesday we’ll receive the first fruits of the harvest. A few days after that, we’ll probably begin our shift work, and life becomes busy until June.



Plans changed a bit from what we were first told. Instead of switching day and night shifts halfway through the harvest, we’ll remain in the same place for the duration. Also, instead of one day off each week, it’s one day off each fortnight. I’ll become a creature of the night, working the 7pm – 7am shift. I don’t mind because I’ll actually get to spend some time outside of work in the daylight. As the nights become longer, the day-shifters will come to and leave work in the dark, and that doesn’t much interest me.

Enjoying sunset, girl kicking air

St Patty’s Day came quickly after a late Friday night, but the crew from work rallied well with the knowledge that this was likely our last free weekend ‘till June. The skies cleared and we bar-be-qued together as the sun set, revealing the Southern Cross and Milky Way on a near-perfect late-summer evening.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Canterbury Tales

Christchurch Cathedral

The grapes continue to ripen, but the harvest has yet to begin. That means we still work normal hours and have weekends free. That in mind, a few of us took a trip down the east coast to Christchurch last weekend for the orientation week at Canterbury University. Initially we planned on going to an all-day concert on Sunday, but when it came down to it, sleeping and not spending $25 seemed like a much better idea.



Dave, Fran and me in Christchurch

Instead, we spent a couple of days in the second largest city in New Zealand. It felt like what I imagine a town in England to be like – well planned with Anglican churches and lots of gardens. Aside from being one of the flattest cities I’ve ever visited, it’s also one of the greenest. The two of these things together mean that you can never really see more than about 300 yards in any direction. That changes when you get to the Pacific, but the exchange (12 miles to the horizon, still straight, and all blue) isn’t all that great. However, the beach itself was pretty nice. Lots of sun, a bit of surfing, and a Frisbee made the afternoon perfect.

Port Hills

New Brighton beach

The following day we drove into the Port Hills south of town. They’re the only relief for miles, and they provide a striking view across the city and the Canterbury Plains west to the Southern Alps. It felt too early when we left Sunday evening, but the concurrent sunset over those mountains and moonrise over the sea were indescribable.

Canterbury Plains, Southern Alps

Dry run?