WINE O’CLOCK
A chat with Eben Sadie, winner of the Winemakers’ Winemaker award
Eben Sadie is widely regarded as one of the most visionary winemakers in the southern hemisphere. He believes in the qualities of age and earth, and finding (and preserving) the oldest vineyards and cultivars. This unconventional approach has won him legions of devotees throughout the world, and, most recently, the coveted Winemakers’ Winemaker award. We chatted to him about his two passions – wine and surfing – and more. I come from the Weskus – it’s my favourite place in South Africa. A big part of it is the Swartland. It’s dry and arid – brutally pure. When you walk on the deserted beaches, you feel the soul of what this place once was. I love surfing up there... Elandsbaai, Lambert’s Bay, Donkin… In France, it’s immaterial whether a winemaker is female or male. The best wine in the world is made by a woman. We’re so far behind that; we have a long way to go.
The best advice I ever got was to take my time. My tendency is to get through stuff pretty quickly. I had to go against my nature to make wine. Don’t start something new if you haven’t solved the previous
problem. I did two wines only – Columella and Palladius – for 10 years, until they were just right. Then I started the Old Vine series, and I’ll do them for 10 years until they’re just right, too. Then I don’t know, because when you’re busy with this you don’t think about that. Making a great wine is a process that takes four or five generations. You can’t make a great wine in one lifetime. The longer the tale becomes, with all that history and tradition, the more dynamics there will be. When I was 24, I made hugely engineered, manipulated wines. But I just didn’t love those wines. To get the purity of the wine, you must have confidence in the berry. My drive is to find varieties that can deal with drought and global warming. Hopefully I’ll end up, in 30 years’ time, with three or four grapes that could change the dynamic of SA wines. That’s the legacy I’ll leave. It’s a journey that could also end in nothing. If not wine, I’d be an architect. And if not that, I’d have had a light and a watch shop. I love design. I could make women’s clothes. Why spend generations growing and tending South African vines on South African land, pruning them and harvesting their grapes and preserving all that is authentic in them only to, right at the end, flavour them with wood from France? I sleep like a log, but for only six hours. On three days a week I get up at 4:45am to train to surf properly again. Surfing is what keeps me on course. Maria, my wife, says: ‘I’m the mountains; he’s the sea.’ I read only scientific stuff. Lots of chemistry, and a lot on energy. I can’t read a book about a guy who fell in love with a girl. I don’t have time to live other people’s lives. Time is so limited. I read to get to the next step, to find ways to do things better. My house is 90% off-grid. I’m waiting for the new roof tiles from [energy-storage company] Tesla. That dam we’re digging out down there? During the day we will run water up the hill, and at night we’ll run it down through turbines. My mother fought for the weak guy. We have so much more, so we have to help others. You can’t come
‘You can’t come to this Earth and build a business. You’re here to make it better. You need to leave a legacy.’
to this Earth and build a business. You’re here to make it better. You need to leave a legacy. When I put a screw in a wall where nobody can see it, I still
do it perfectly – because I’m thinking legacy. If you don’t put them in straight when nobody can see them, how will you be able to put them in straight when everybody can see them? My father was the humblest person I’ve ever met. He believed that you’ll be judged on the things you do. So it makes sense to do fewer things and do them properly. Everything makes me angry. No, I know what – people who go back on their word. I prefer dogs to cats. Cats are a bit arrogant. They’re quite similar to my French friends –’n bietjie knorrig. I speak Afrikaans, and English when I have to. I also speak German and Spanish. I struggle in French.
If I didn’t live in South Africa, I would probably live in Portugal. I like California – it’s great for surfing, and growing wine and fruit. But I would have to live with Americans, and that’s a tall order. The chances of me leaving South Africa are zero. I’d choose Thuli Madonsela for president. If I could invite any four people
for a meal, they’d be Kelly Slater, 11-times world surf champ, because he has a strategy and a back-strategy and a back-back-strategy; Nick Fanning, three-times world champ, because he suffered many hardships; Chris Bertish [the only person to cross the Atlantic on a stand-up paddle board]; and Brett Archibald [who spent 24 hours lost at sea in the Indian Ocean]. They’re all watermen. Surfing’s quite personal, and so is a dinner table. The Vintners’ Surf Classic [an annual event in Stilbaai started by Eben 15 years ago] is a massive, ballistic event. It’s about liquid: no two wines are the same; no two waves are the same. Last year, about 50 surfing winemakers took part. I spend seven months outside in the vineyards, three months in the cellar and two months in the office. It took about seven years to find our vineyards. We have 48 different ones. The furthest is four hours away in Clanwilliam, in the Trekpoort Pas. We grow Semillon, the historic grape of the Cape, for Kokerboom, our rarest wine. You find these vineyards by word of mouth. The grapes for the Skerpioen were originally used secretly to make skelm witblitz. Palladius is made from grapes from 17 different vineyards, and Columella 11. Harvest-time is not fun. We don’t have time to see people. We literally don’t have any wine – we’re sold out. Buyers are put onto a list and wait for the supply to arrive every year in August. When you add the experimental new stuff we’re doing to that, it’s a big boat to float.