The land was prepared for planting in early 1966. First it had to be fenced with a rabbit and cattle-proof fence—this was done by the Rossis. Peter Middleton, an architect on the staff of Professor Stephenson at UWA, suggested the site of the future shed and later small winery and laid out a plan for vine plantings as close to contours as possible. The land was then ripped by Stuart Melville with a three-pronged ripper to a depth of two feet to bring up stones and roots and several trees were uprooted and removed. This was done in case the clay was compacted by cattle and also because any significant piece of wood could carry fungus infection in that high rainfall area. Later on it was not uncommon to find a dead vine and on digging beside it, a piece of wood with mushroom-like growths on it, and a characteristic odour. Fortunately this was not often enough in our case to pose a real problem. The roots were burned and stones removed, which was quite a job—an Italian gardener came down with me, an ex-miner, to explode and remove some larger granite. The land was also later ploughed with discs and harrowed to make a planting bed. Several wet areas were drained with plastic drains. I remember having my first attack of rapid cardiac arrhythmia on the Riesling patch digging a drainage trench in the summer with a shovel.
It was decided to plant about two thirds in Riesling and one third in Cabernet Sauvignon with 3 rows of Malbec and some Hermitage. I did this on the advice of Bill Jamieson. (I had no knowledge of what varieties would be most suitable and I daresay nobody did, or even would until somebody did it and tried it out. I was the bell-wether and the vineyard was the district’s feasibility study.)
The cuttings were obtained from the Swan Research Station of the Agricultural Department and had been quarantined. They were not on nematode-resistant root-stocks and were unrooted cuttings. They were planted two to a planting station, which positions were at 12 foot by 5 foot distances. There was a 99.9% “take” and the double planting was unnecessary. Another unnecessary aspect was that pine-markers were planted in the planting stations using a planting-wire so that the vines could be easily planted at them.
These were dipped in lime sulphur solution before planting, sprayed at the usually suggested intervals with wettable sulphur, and when cut-worm were discovered, the ground was dusted with arsenic. This was done only once, but the infestation was widespread. Max Schubert of Penfolds, David Hardy of Hardys, Ross Heinze of Seppelts, one of the McWilliams, and senior representatives of several (most) other firms inspected the plantings at bud-burst in the second year.
The dominant features of the South West climate are cotained in the meteorological publication “Climatological Survey—South West Australia” published in 1965 by the Commonwealth Bureau of Meteorology. Suffice to say that the temperature records are largely derivative and small rainfall micro-climates not exactly known, although this latter is of little significance. I worked on the belief that I had to back some particular notion and worked on the assumption that Olmo’s and Gladtone’s indications of a favourable climate were correct, and that well-drained soil, with small gravel, growingi large red gums and little jarrah was the ideal situation. These criteria are widely known in Western Australia and probably originate from Despeissis—see his classic “The Handbook of Horticulture and Viticulture”, (my edition 1921).
I now know that all this largely true. On the other hand the wine produced in the area from many variations of these soil types does not seem to display characters associated with the different soils. This is a bold statement as there are many other variables. It will be interesting to see what the future shows.
My guess is that a north-east slope is important, to avoid continuous westerlies which affect spring growth, particularly at flowering time; also that the unclouded sky is more significant than was realised and that south of Margaret River more cloudy conditions, (causing lower vine temperature among other things), should lead to longer and slower ripening and more elegant wine.
I did not know this at the time. I was a busy physician, could get away most weekends, and used to rise about 3 am, leave Perth in a Peugeot 403 down the inland road, (before the coast road was sealed), and spend the weekend looking for suitable available land south of Busselton. Over the next few years I averaged this 600 kilometre return trip more than once a fortnight, starting work on the vineyard at about 8 am and returning to Perth late on Sunday night. I spent all my holidays there, usually alone.
I had never been south of Bunbury in my life, had no practical bent, had never changed a car tyre, did not know what a weed was and knew nothing about vines or wine-making. The Cullens used to put me up and introduced me to people like the Minchins, the Junipers, Hamilton of the Department of Agriculture, Stan Dilkes, Jim McCutcheon, and a widening circle of people who were prepared to tolerate a relatively eccentric idea. This was important due to my ignorance of any form of agriculture and due to my lack of contacts south of Busselton.
I remember visiting John Fornachon of the Wine Research Institute in Adelaide, at this time, just before he died, to seek his opinion. I can still see him looking at me in detached and tolerant sort of way and saying “Goodbye. Come back with some wine in four years and we’ll see.”
With the help and support of my new friends and acquaintances, I spent the winter digging holes with an auger on various apparently suitable properties. The reason for this was to make sure that the soil was well-drained, the annual rainfall being 50 inches, and the notion being that spring water-logging would be a threat on unsuitable soils. My idea at the time was to buy a small area, plant no more than one acre, and that this had to be convenient to a farmer who would work with me, accept payment and perform this novel operation faithfully at the behest of somebody like myself whose only knowledge was what he had read in books or been told by “experts”. It was idealistic, poorly conceived logistically, and in an area where it was common to see people with bright ideas flounder. About 5% of new agricultural developments take root. Obviously I had to travel up and down and insist on detail and somebody had to be prepared to do it. The attitude suitable to intensive agriculture and critical wine-making procedures is foreign to the instincts of people who graze cattle and milk.
Eventually, helped by the introduction of the Cullens, I bought 8 acres of land from Bill Osbourne, Sussex location 1669; four year later 4 acres by conditional purchase of the adjoining gravel-pit and two years later 14 acres adjoining. The average price of this land, fence and under pasture, was about $150 per hectare.
In August 1967, after site and soil preparation, contouring, laying out of vine rows, etc. about 4 acres of Riesling, 2 of Cabernet Sauvignon, half of Malbec and half of Hermitage were planted by myself, Tony, Joe and Dominic Rossi. The cuttings were from the Department of Agriculture cool store, from Swan Valley vines, treated against nematodes but not clonally selected. They were not rooted cuttings yet 99% of them took. Prior to this, I think at the instigation of the Cullens, Bill Minchin planted half an acre in the Vasse in 1966 and Geoff Juniper put in half an acre, the same year, which Della Vanzo and I actually planted. These vines perished due to trauma from spraying. The Minchins made wine from their patch in 1970. I do not know whether they still do.
Part Six:
Planting
