Trade that is still a barrel of fun

AS A young lad shyly watching a cooper brand barrels at Theakston Brewery, Alastair Simms was struck by the power and prowess of an artist at work.

Four decades on, as one of only three master coopers left in England, he finds himself among the last guardians of a dying trade.

At 14, caught sneaking peeks from the doorway, he had been swept up in the history and craft of a profession as old as time.

Now, as he returns to his Yorkshire roots with the nation’s only commercial cooperage, he has spoken of the fire he feels in passing on that expertise.

A cooper by definition may be a maker and repairer of wooden barrels and casks, he said, but by trade is a craftsman carrying centuries of skill. “The thing is, with coopering, we do it by hand,” he said. “It’s as barrels should be.

“We have to make sure that is passed on. I don’t want it to die.” Coopering, recognised for its guild dating back to the times of William the Conqueror, is a trade that has changed little since that time. But while there used to be 100 such tradesmen in England, there are now just five. For master coopers, there are just three, all of whom are in North Yorkshire.

Mr Simms branded his first barrel as a schoolboy while working a summer job at Theakston’s Masham brewery, in North Yorkshire.

He would go on to become a journeyman apprentice there and, in 1994, when his own apprentice completed his training in Wiltshire, he became a master cooper.

It had been strict but fair, Mr Simms said, as an apprentice under Clive Hollis. For two years, forbidden from using electric tools, he had learned to drill with a bit and brace.

He learned to select the wood, to shape and hoop. Then painting and toasting and charring with flames, ensuring whisky could saturate the wood to acquire its golden glow.

Barrels are not just for beer and spirits, butalso for wine.

Now, at Jensen’s Cooperage, he has been getting stocked ready for orders.

As England’s only commercial cooperage, he said, Jensen’s is not tied to a brewery, but can fulfil any manner of orders.

This week he is busy with bourbon barrels, repairing them for whisky trade.

A large delivery of English oak is on its way, ready to be shaped.

It’s ‘as barrels should be’, he insists, foregoing all shortcuts to ensure it’s handmade.

He makes one concession though, to the use of an electric drill over the old ‘bit and brace’.

“Too right,” he laughed. “I am passionate about coopering, and that it’s done properly. That’s not going to disappear. We’ve got to keep it alive so someone knows how to do it.”

As an avid reader on the history of cooperage, he has collected over 20 boxes of old tools. “I always say it’s in case I break some,” he admits.

“But I think it’s because I don’t like the thought of them lost.”