THE OLD centenarian vineyards of Australia have had a torturous journey through the decades, akin to a character in an Alexandre Dumas novel. Surviving phylloxera, that rascal aphid which attacks and eventually kills the roots of the vine, was their first hurdle to overcome. Fortunately South Australia, Western Australia, Tasmania and the majority of NSW escaped the major outbreak in Australia that occurred in Victoria from the mid-1870s onwards. It still continues to be a threat, as vignerons in the Yarra Valley have witnessed only recently.
Fungal disease is another perilous adversary to the maturing vines. Eutypa dieback causes stunted shoots, small bunches and a wedge of discoloured dead wood in the trunks or arms of the vine. It contributes to the decline of vineyards by reducing growth and yield by up to 90 per cent and eventually will kill it the vine. Grenache is particularly susceptible. Then there was the government vine-pull scheme in the late 1980s which actually paid growers to rip out vineyards, often the old, unproductive vineyards - the likes of which we are so preciously preserving now. Urban sprawl, droughts and changes in demand for wine over the century have also taken their toll; it's no wonder they appear tattered, knotted and gnarled.
Fortunately for Australia, you can still find old vines, especially shiraz, across the country. Australia is in fact one of only a few countries in the world to have extensive amounts of old vines planted pre-phylloxera and on its own rootstock. Bruce Tyrrell, from Tyrrell's in the Hunter Valley, reckons there should be an official register of 100-year-old vines. Perhaps the Queen or Kevin Rudd, depending on your political persuasion, could send a telegram to the vineyard when it turns 100!
Langmeil claim to have the oldest shiraz vines in the country, planted around 1843 by Christian Auricht. Henschke have the renowned Hill of Grace vineyard in the Eden Valley; the ‘Grandfathers', as the oldest block is called, was planted by Nicolaus Stanitzki around the 1860s. The sturdy, gnarled vines are dry-grown and yield an average one tonne per acre. Similarly in Victoria, Tahbilk have a small vineyard of vines planted in 1860 that survived on soils that were uninhabitable to phylloxera. Not to be outdone, Bruce Tyrrell sources fruit from the Stevens vineyard, which has a patch of shiraz planted in 1867, as well as his own block dating from 1879 and semillon planted in 1908.
But it is the Barossa Valley that has a wealth of ancient vines in what is poetically called their ‘Old Vine Gardens'. These vines are planted on their own roots from pre-phylloxera material, often brought from Europe by the early settlers. Penfolds Block 42 in the Kalimna vineyard has the oldest cabernet sauvignon vines in the world, first planted in the mid-1880s. The grapes from these rare old vines go into making the winery's premium brand and are sold for top dollar. Other companies have built an entire portfolio of wines sourced from old vines; Torbreck Vintners is one such producer.
Vines generally take seven to 10 years to mature, by which age they have developed full root systems and have some capacity to withstand seasonal variations. By the time a vineyard is 50 years old it may have become uneconomical to tend, due to the vines loosing their vigour. There are many factors that determine vigour and ultimately whether the vineyard is worth saving, such as the sustainability of nutrients in the soil, the effects of droughts, the presence of root pests and diseases and whether newer clones can actually produce better wines. Newly planted vines sometime surprise the critics by making astonishingly good wines. They seem to go through a honeymoon period, possibly because the yields are still low and the vine has not cranked up its production of grapes.
Alister Purbrick, the custodian of Tahbilk's vines, reckons the best wines are from middle-aged vines. "In my mind no doubt the best fruit comes from middle-aged vines - around the 50-to-100-year-old vines. That is when you compare ‘apples with apples' - in other words, when the viticulture, clone, soils and climate are the same."
But old vineyards are not all paddocks of gold for growers. As vines age they become less vigorous and one of the problems is whether they have enough vigour to deliver fully ripe grapes. In some vintages they can struggle. But on the upside, a less vigorous vine has less foliage and allows good sunlight penetration and air flow, which can reduce the risk of disease. The vines do not need crop thinning and their well-established root system means they withstand droughts when younger vines suffer.
Lower yield is one of the key quality outcomes of older vines, yet unless a premium price is reached these can become uneconomical and commercially unviabile. At Tahbilk the 1860 vines often crop at around half to 1½ tonnes per acre, while the middle-aged vines planted in the 1930s and 1940s yield around two to three tonnes per acre. Shiraz is naturally vigorous and younger vines on the property are restricted by crop thinning to yield 4½ or five tonnes per acre.
The wine industry has recently looked at standardising and recognizing these old vines. Robert Hill-Smith and Brian Walsh from Yalumba have established an old vine charter dedicated to the ‘recognition, preservation and promotion of old vines'. They have chosen an age range of 35 to 69 years to describe an ‘old vine'. At 70 the vine is classed as an ‘antique. A centenarian, as the name suggests, is 100 years old and a tri-centenary describes one whose life has spanned three centuries.
What is in store for the consumer of these wines and why should we take note of the age of a vine? Well, according to Alister Purbrick, the real benefit of old vines is on the palate. "It's all about the intensity of flavour and an increase in complexity; there are more nuances with aged vines." Bruce Tyrrell agrees: "There are extra layers of flavour and lightness which you don't see from fruit off younger vines, and with lower alcohol they match excellently with an array of foods."