First Day of Harvest: September, 31^st 2009

3:30 PM

Excitement was in the air.  Our first grape shipment of the season had finally arrived.  You always wish you can time the truck deliveries, but truckers seem to work on their own schedules.

3:45 PM

The grapes looked great, but there was a slight hitch with the delivery.  The pallets were facing the wrong way so we were unable to move them with our pallet jack.  We dragged them out with a chain connected to the forklift instead.  After they were unloaded, we felt like we had achieved something.

4:15 PM

All systems go. Unloading grapes into the crusher de-stemmer hopper–additions were made.  The winemaking season had begun!

4:30 PM

5 Tons Grenache Received (.25 tons crushed)

Three men were standing around a crusher de-stemmer.

“Yup, that’s definitely burning.”  You cannot mistake the smell of burnt electrics.

“What’s that?”  A finger was pointed.

“I don’t know?”  A shoulder was shrugged.

“Do you know?”  More shrugging.

“No.”  Someone frowned a real life frown.

“Well, it’s definitely part of the motor.”  Sighs.

“Yes, definitely.”  It is good to be confident.

We pulled out the manual, but it was written in a hybrid language created by an underpaid Italian to English translator.  It was clear we would need to call the supplier, but was there time?

4:45 PM  (Supplier closes at 5PM)

“So, we have a slight problem with our crusher.”

“What seems to be the issue?”

“The motor is burning.”

“Oh.  That’s not good.”

The conversation continued for another ten minutes.  We were informed that our capacitor had indeed blown and we would need another one to replace it.

“Just call one of the major parts suppliers.  They should have it.”

We heard the clicking of heels on concrete.  It must be Bettina.  She had heard about our distress and appeared ready to address and remedy the situation.  We relayed the information as quickly as possible. 

“I’m getting in my car let me know when you find a place that has the part.”  We handed her the half burnt, slightly mangled tube.  It still smelled.

5:15 PM

A Mercedes Benz peeled out of the parking lot.  We frantically flipped through the yellow pages and called every parts dealer we could find.  There were a couple options, but nobody seemed to have European capacitors.  Most wine industry equipment is imported from either France or Italy.  The same is true for our crusher de-stemmer.  I am convinced that world peace will only be achieved when all nations convert to the same system of measurement.

“This one might work though,” said a supplier rep.  But there was little confidence in his voice.  I have learned a lot by making wine in Maine.  Maine is pretty much the furthest you can be from anyone who knows anything about fixing or maintaining winery equipment.  In many Western wine regions there are round-the-clock technicians and suppliers who can save you at the last minute.  Not here.  In Maine, we are truly on the frontier.

5:30 P.M.

We gave Bettina her coordinates, but there was little hope of finding a European capacitor before nightfall.

5:45 P.M.

Five tons of grapes were sitting awkwardly in the parking lot, saying “crush me.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”  The grapes demanded.

5:50 P.M.

“How about the old crusher de-stemmer?”

“We could, but it would take us all night.”

“But the grapes need to be crushed.  Listen, they’re talking.”  I pointed my finger towards the 5 tons.

“It will be an hour before we can get it here, but it is possible.”  It was in storage, 20 minutes away in one direction. 

There was no more discussion.  Brian and I hopped in a truck and hit the road.

6:15 PM (at storage)

We loaded the old crusher de-stemmer into the back of the pickup truck.  It seemed so small next to the newer one sitting on the crush pad.

“You do know this is going to take all night, right?”

“Yeah, but can’t you feel the excitement?”

“Oh yeah.  Yeehaw.”

We were back in the road.

6:25 PM (Bettina calling)

I answered my phone.

“So, the place you mentioned didn’t think they had anything that would work, but while I was in line there was another person who works on boats who said he might be able to pull one off one of his old boat motors.”

“Oh.  Where are you now?”

“I’m following him to his house, no garage, or something.  I’ll let you know what I find out.”

6:40 PM (back at winery)

We hauled the old crusher de-stemmer out of the back of the pickup trick and began the sanitizing process.  We worked fast and efficiently (it was the first day of harvest, we were still fresh).  There were four of us now.  After a quick bite to eat (potato chips), we started the old machine up and began loading grapes.  The night was just beginning.

7:30 PM

“I got it!”  Bettina was holding a small metal tube like it was the Holy Grail.

“Was that from the boat motor?”

“Yes.  He said it would work.  Try it.”

We had to apply a little electrical tape, but it appeared to connect O.K.  We plugged it in, crossed our fingers and flipped the switch…

It ran.  There were high-fives.  Bettina put her hands on her hips, “Just add winery electrician to my job title.”

Although it was a long evening, the grapes got their wish to be crushed and we all left feeling ready to tackle whatever this year’s harvest had to throw at us. 

And we did. The grapes looked and tasted excellent, and I am very excited about the wines coming up for next year.  For the whites, we are working on new vintages of Viognier and Serendipity, along with a dry Pinot Gris (Grigio), an off-dry Gewurztraminer and a semi-sweet Riesling.  We have many different options for reds as we made a big push this year in our red wine program, but I am anticipating a Spanish-style Tempranillo/Mataro blend, a new Trilogy (Grenache, Syrah and Mourvedre), a new Capo di Monte (Super-Tuscan inspired), a new Prince Valiant and varietal bottlings of Syrah, Malbec and Petite Sirah.  I am also very happy with how our 100% Wild Maine Blueberry wine is progressing.  I have heard many comments that it is indistinguishable from a grape red wine, but you will be able to taste for yourself next season (unless CC talks me into slipping it into a cooking class or two).

Happy Holidays,

Aaron