So there I was, walking in a vineyard at sunrise. Yes I admit, not something that would be considered terribly unusual for an Oregon winemaker like myself, but on this particular morning as I walked up the long, recently hedged, rows of Cabernet Sauvignon, I had the peculiar feeling I was being watched. Now, when you go traipsing out in a vineyard at sunrise you never know what little (or large) creatures you might run into. I’ve startled more deer than I can remember, had the favor return by one bear, stumbled across free-spirited cattle munching between vineyard rows and been chased, thankfully only once, by two grumpy lamas all while I was in the pursuit of tasting the sweetness of early morning fruit. However, back to this eerie sense that I was not alone…. The sun had not fully risen. In the east a warm pool of purple-orange light was seeping across the sky about to splash into yellow. Thick cool mist hung in very still air, it was unbelievably quiet and I, was getting a little freaked. Then, there it was, not more than 50 yards in front me, a dark shape barely visible through what now had become a very haunting mist. I stood motionless, my eyes straining to focus on the strange shape before me. The thought of “fight or flight” crossed my mind, with the latter seeming like the most prudent choice. But before I had a chance to choose, the sun burst over the horizon melting the mist, painting everything gold. And there, still watching me as I now intently watched it, was a kangaroo. Yes, a kangaroo. This was definitely not something an Oregon winemaker sees every day in the vineyard, but then again, this was not Oregon. Welcome to Western Australia and the wine region of Margaret River.
Located in Western Australia (WA or, as my Aussie mates say, “dub-ay”), Margaret River is about as far away from Oregon as you can go and still take early morning walks in a vineyard, and certainly the only place where you can do it with marsupials. My latest traveling winemaking adventures have taken me to this little winemaking corner of the world to a region claimed by many to be similar to Bordeaux, with plenty of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon to offer as proof. That said, one does not have to look far to find the hundreds of acres of Shiraz, Chardonnay Chenin Blanc and Viognier which makes a stronger argument that Margaret River is like Margaret River, and it is like no other place on earth. Plus, when was the last time a kangaroo was sighted along the Garonne?
I’ve come here to work for Watershed Winery, a relatively new a 1500 ton (and growing) facility quickly making a name for itself in the prestigious Margaret River region. Though it only produces 3% of Australia’s wine, Margaret River is responsible for over 20% Australia’s premium wine. And you do not have to venture far to see why. Nestled between Cape Naturalista to the north and Cape Leeuwin to the south, where the Indian and Southern Oceans meet, Margaret River has been blessed with a mild Mediterranean climate that is virtually frost-free, a characteristic every grape grower here loves. The gentle landscape of subtle hills and small creeks that meander through forests of Eucalypt and Karri, gives Margaret River that sense of peace that comes with such natural beauty. What little rain does fall, percolates through sandy loam to granite and gneissic rock providing a near ideal soil composition for many of the varieties that have found, and are still finding, their home here in WA. If the quality of fruit here were any indication of its emotional state, then those of Margaret River would be that of bliss.
Most of Watershed’s estate whites are already in and the reds are starting. In fact, just yesterday I found myself on top of one of the first tanks of Merlot “pumping over” (circulating the juice over the top of the skins to help extract color). Though the grapes had come in the day before, the juice was already dark red and well on its way to purple. When I had finished, I turned around and looked below at the estate vineyards that surround the winery. Again it was a beautiful sunrise and that sweet light of morning was beginning to warm both me, and the vines. As I stood there I thought that in many ways the vineyards around me looked similar to those I had seed in Marlborough, New Zealand, or the Alexander Valley of California or even my native southern Oregon. A sense of being home settled over me. Yes, very similar indeed, except for the kangaroos.
