Name: John Vincent
Age: 70
Family status: Divorced, one daughter
Job: Grape Grower
Religion: Methodist Church (Christian)
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Let me see. How do I do this. You see, I was quite tipsy when started taking notes for this story, and I was straight out drunk by the time I finished. It is not what you are thinking. It is barely 11 am and we are half way through with our wine tasting tour along the Rosevears River in North Tasmania. I am with a couple of girlfriends from Bulgaria and an Australian friend. Our token Australian puts up gracefully with us, galls, having fun and carrying his designated driver duties without a complaint.
We follow the road signs and pool up the next vineyard. All vineyards in the area have a designated reception area, where you can try before you buy, or just try. Some receptions are as glitzy as a 5-star hotel lobby, others have a more homey look. This one doesn't look too fancy, but it doesn't matter, we say, we'll give it a try anyways.
John greets us from the door. He is slim, energetic Australian in his 60-ties, I reckon. He pools out three tall wine glasses while making small talk. John comes across as a very intelligent guy. He is a smooth talker too and a little bit of a flirt - in a nice, respectful way of course. I wonder if he was once in sales.
There are 4 types of wine out for tasting - Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot. My already fogged brain vaguely registers somewhere in the back room that these are 10 year old wines. I sniff up the glass of Chardonnay that John hands me and my nose sensors get a kick. It smells heavenly. It tastes even better. I am not much of a wine connoisseur, but I know a good wine from a bad one. This one is good, and it only gets better as we go thought the Merlot to the Cabernet Sauvignon. I'm standing there, feeling really sorry I can't get a whole case of this good stuff with me. Nowhere to ship it either. Why don't we have a bottle of Chardonnay right here? It is almost noon after all.
John invites us to take a seat in the shaded garden and joins us for a chat. Turns out he was indeed in the corporate world once. He worked as property appraiser for 40 years, before buying the vineyard 12 years ago. He wanted a change (as most people that are chained to a desk do) and plunged into semi retirement and wine making at the same time. He describes himself as a grape grower, because winemaking is something you need to study to do well. He employs a qualified wine maker to help him turn into wine the grapes from his 40 hectares of vineyards. Annually, they produce 24,000 liters of wine and sell none of it. Wine is an asset that appreciates with time, John says. I picture him wearing a smart grey suit, blue starched shirt, and a stylish burgundy tie, standing in front of a PowerPoint slide with an oversized, upwards slopping chart, talking about the winemaking business. He is indeed financially enlightened.
I let the wine rest for 5-10 years and I sell it at a higher price, John says. Although, he adds, I sell the most reasonably priced wine in the whole region. Of course! I make a note to self to calculate later how much he would make if he would sell his annual production at $20 a pop, as my efforts to do the math in my head are proving fruitless at the moment which leads to unnecessary frustration. Turns out, it would be USD 400,000. Not bad for a two-man, nine month a year operation. Well, John sells far less a year, as he is building up his reserves. Actually, I have no idea how much profit he makes after all the operational and financial costs are accounted for, but I'm curious and so I ask. He tells me the vineyard is breaking even. He is 70 years old and he doesn't spend as much. He is really doing it more to keep himself busy and for the love of good wine.
He is how old?! I can't believe he said 70. 'Well', he smiles flattered, 'all the walking around keeps me fit'. He spends the summers here at the vineyard. When the cold Tasmanian winter hits, he closes the yard for 3 months and goes to Queensland or South America. He is enjoying being semi-retired.
Interestingly, John was raised in a strict religious environment and hasn't even tried alcohol until he was 25. Then, in his own words, he went to Europe (cradle of all Evil) and went crazy. Parents should teach their children to drink, so they know how to drink with measure, he tells me, and I'm nodding in agreement. He doesn't mind that his daughter is drinking, nor that she lives with her boyfriend, but he is upset that she smokes. Himself, he quit smoking 2 years ago. Better late than never. He is not worried about lung cancer. The skin cancer will get me first, he says. He shows us several patches on his leg and arms, where doctors have cut out melanomas. It keeps coming back. It is too late for sunscreens, he says matter of factly. I'm suffering from the sunburns when I was young and nobody knew sunburn can be so dangerous.
The moral of the story is - use sunblock, drink responsibly, and enjoy the good things of life, for life ain't over till it's over.
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Hugs & Kisses, Vik
