Grape Pioneers break new ground in Okanagan
Nathan Vanderklippe, Canwest News Service; National Post; with a file by Staff Reporter
Published: Sunday, May 18, 2008Bill Ahrens wipes a thin layer of dusty sweat from his brow and looks back on his day's work, 100 poles driven into a gently sloped field that overlooks the Grand Forks river valley deep in the dry southern heart of B.C. "Right now is the darkest hour for this," he says. There are hundreds more posts to drive, then rows of wire to string, an irrigation system to install and, finally, vines to plant and tend, all of which means many more days of aching muscles to come for a man about to turn 65.
"It's a lot of work. The first year's the worst. The second and third year are almost as bad," he says. "But five years from now, it's a piece of cake." That, at any rate, is the hope. By just about any calculation grapes are not supposed to grow on Ahrens' land.
For decades, vineyards have thrived just over 100 kilometres away, in the hot, dry Okanagan Valley, where the benches and slopes are now verdant with a thriving winemaking industry. Grand Forks, however, has always been considered impossible ground. Though it receives twice as much rain as nearby Osoyoos, where some of the province's best wine is made, it is situated in a higher valley that receives less heat and, worse, frigid temperatures. This winter, thermometers in Grand Forks dipped to -29 C.
Some of the most popular grape varieties die at far less extreme temperatures. Merlot can't survive much more than -15; pinot noir and chardonnay -23. Winemakers talk about "annihilation" of even the hardiest varieties when temperatures hit -25. So what is Ahrens, who recently retired from human resources at a pulp mill and whose plant-growing experience ends at tomatoes and radishes, doing?
In part, he is living a retirement dream: "You can have hobbies that cost money. And you can have hobbies that pay themselves," he says, by way of explanation. But Ahrens is hardly alone. In distant reaches across B.C., a new crop of entrepreneurs -- call them pioneers, even -- are tilling the fringes of good grape land in hopes that tomorrow's vintages will come from places like Lillooet, Ashcroft, Pemberton and Grand Forks.
They are driven by a desire to dip their toes into an industry that is bringing fresh wealth to forgotten places, but also by the new reality of growing grapes in B. C.: It has become very expensive. When actor Jason Priestley invested in Black Hills Estate Winery last fall for a reported $150,000 an acre, it immediately set a new benchmark for winery prices, even for those without silver-screen cachet. Not long ago, Ben Stewart, the president of Quail's Gate Winery, had a neighbour offer to sell him 44 acres. The asking price: $7 million.
Stewart declined. The average price of a bottle in B. C. today is just over $17. By his calculation, if he pays $160,000 for an acre, he needs to sell wine from that property for over $60 a bottle to make the math work, meaning he would have to know the vineyard would produce some of the best wine in B.C. -- hardly an easy thing to bank on -- or lose money.
The escalation in grape prices comes in part thanks to rich winery wannabes -- the Calgary oilmen and Hollywood actors eager for their own vanity label -- and in part thanks to the laws of supply and demand. With about 7,500 acres of grapes planted in B. C., much of the best land has either been planted or will be soon.
"My understanding from the nurseries that I've spoken to this year is that there will be more plants planted this year than in any other year," said Stewart. "So if that's correct, the acreage will probably get up around 8,500 acres." All of that planting comes at a time when big parcels of land in choice places have virtually disappeared. Grape growers are instead being forced to buy small 10- or 20-acre plots of orchard land and cobble together various properties at great expense.
"If I could come on with 10,000 acres of really good, suitable land that everybody knew was going to work at $60,000 an acre, I think I'd sell it all," said Marshall McAnerney, an agent with Colliers International, who has seen such a surge in interest for grape land that he is setting up an "Okanagan development opportunities" division to profit from it.
"All of a sudden, prices have gone through the roof," he said. "And so people are really scrambling to find additional grape land." The old guard, however, is deeply skeptical of the efforts of those like Ahrens. As grape growers plant into fringe lands, they may be forced into growing North American-developed hybrid grape varieties that are less well known and could, they worry, tarnish the area's bid to be known for its "ultra-premium" products.
"People see that there is a potential for profit in this, but at the same time, these people are taking enormous risks and I don't know what effect it would have on the image of the wine industry in B.C.," says Hans Buchler, who chairs the B.C. Wine Grape Council. He likens Ahrens' vineyard planting to "investing in penny stocks." "People seem to be banking on global warming," he says. "In my opinion it's very unrealistic to bank on this. It's so unpredictable."
Lanny Martiniuk, an Oliver-area grower, winemaker and nursery owner, speaks eloquently of the dangers that may lie ahead. "We've hit that magic point in the last three or four years where the growth in planting has become exponential," says Martiniuk, whose Stoneboat Vineyards is proud of its pinotage. "We're getting to the point where it's going from being a sound business plan to more of a lottery ticket. I'm scared for growers . . . there won't be a market for their grapes if they're not premium."
Ahrens, however, thinks that in his case the risks are considerably better, and has reasons for his belief. A few kilometres away, on another slope overlooking the same valley, Ron Subotin has spent the past two years planting and growing a small plot of Gewurztraminer and pinot noir, the same varieties Ahrens is planting.
Unlike Ahrens, Subotin knows what he is doing. He figures there are only two people in the province who have planted more grapes than he has. In decades of work in the industry, he has been responsible for installing 1,500 acres of vineyards, a job that gave him a sort of sixth sense: He can walk onto a field and, in short order, feel whether it will grow grapes or not.
"I was born and raised here and always loved the area," he said. "To my way of thinking, it's as good a grape-growing area as the Okanagan. We may have a shorter growing season, but I have the know-ledge and experience to overcome the worst of those problems." Soon, he will find out for sure. His vines are sufficiently grown that he expects a good crop this year, his first. It is, of course, still a gamble. Yet it was not so many years ago that the same was said about the Okanagan, which according to some European growers was incapable of growing the premium varieties now prospering on its slopes.
"There's no question that where grapes are grown and wine is made in the world has been based on experimentation, trial and error," says Scott Fraser, the western vice-president of estate wines for Peller Estates, one of the area's best-known wineries. "The Okanagan is incredibly young. There are wineries in Tuscany that are 800 years old, and we've been in the business for a few decades. "So we're still learning."
* In its most recent newsletter, the B.C. Grapegrowers Association predicts that B.C. will have 10,000 acres under grapes well before 2010. -- Source: B.C. Grapegrowers Association