Waterkloof Estate: At One With Nature

The Editor visits Waterkloof Estate | The Month June 2012

Veteran wine grower, and one of the Napa Valley’s better-known (and some would stress opinionated) personalities, Stu Smith, has little regard for the biodynamic approach to wine production. In fact, in June 2010 he went so far as to create the ‘Biodynamics is a Hoax’ website and introduced his views without fear or favour by saying that “biodynamics… deserves the same level of respect the scientific community has for witchcraft, voodoo and astrology.”

It’s a strong statement, and a far cry from my simple introduction outlined only a couple of months earlier in the April 2010 edition of The Month in which I wrote: “Biodynamics… is based on the turn-of-the-century teachings of the Austrian philosopher Rudolf Steiner, who believed that the introduction of chemicals to farming degraded the quality of food produced and represented a spiritual failing on the part of the farmer and a failure to keep in touch with the rhythms of the moon and the seasons.”

At the time of writing I thought Steiner’s views to be ‘interesting’, for want of a better euphemism, and if pressed may well have found myself on Stu Smith’s side of the biodynamic fence. I would, however, have stopped short of sharing Smith’s view that “Rudolf Steiner was a complete nutcase, a flimflam man with a
tremendous imagination, a combination if you will, of an LSD-dropping Timothy Leary with the showmanship of a P.T. Barnum.” Today, however, I find myself on the other side of that fence thanks to a stirring visit to Waterkloof and time spent with the estate farm manager, Christiaan Loots.

Visiting Waterkloof, with Classic Wine editor Cathryn Henderson, Food24.com’s Tessa Purdon, and freelance journalist Malu Lambert, ostensibly to sample the delights of Chef Gregory Czarnecki and enjoy the estate’s wines. I had no desire to potter about the vineyards or listen to Christiaan walk us through yet another take on a wealthy landowner’s attempt to be ‘kind’ to the already raped environment.
With a glass of water and the pleasantries of introductions taken care of we were ushered into Christiaan’s 4x4 double cab – me somewhat overdressed and squashed between the delightful, mini-skirted, ladies on the backseat – for the short drive to the farm’s water treatment plant, right outside the restaurant.

“It looks like a full-on sewerage works,” said a voice. “Yes,” came Christiaan’s proud reply as he launched into a detailed and captivating account of where the farm gets its water (and the name Waterkloof), their approach to water conservation, his own conversion from ‘regular’ farming to biodynamics and the fact that fully decomposed effluent is sprayed onto the vines.

“That water that we just drank,” I started asking, as I looked at Christiaan with what he’d no doubt label a measure of desperation. “Well, once the water is recovered from the treatment process,” he said, pointing to some reed-like plants and a wet-land of sorts next to the treatment tanks, “you could easily drink it; it’s probably better than most bottled water! But, no, the water we use in the restaurant is from a spring.”

Relieved, I took another look about as the rest headed back toward the 4x4. Had it not been for the complete absence of any nasty smells from the open aeration tank next to us, I would have been grossed-out enough at this early stage to end my visit there and then.

Instead I began to wonder if Christiaan’s uncomplicated application of biodynamic principles – right down to performing certain composting activities based on where the moon is in the night sky – might in fact be more than hocus-pocus window dressing. After all, the vines produce some truly fabulous wines, despite being spared the privilege of spring water.

Our next stop was to inspect a conventionally-farmed vineyard that Christiaan is in the process of converting to a biodynamically tended one. Intrigued I questioned him about the need for a gradual change - surely if there’s a better way of doing something, you should just do it, I suggested. Listening to Christiaan explain that years of orthodox vineyard management had robbed the soil of the necessary nutrients, microbes and plants needed to allow it to function as a dynamic living system, and that getting things back to ‘normal’ was best tackled over time, put me at ease, and in my place. The vines too need time to build up their strength, he said, pointing out the odd diseased leaf as he explained that regular spraying robs the plants of life in return for marginally better yields.
I found myself a step closer to buying in to his take on Steiner’s philosophy, but, like Thomas, I needed something tangible to bring the message home – and said as much.

“Well let’s take a look next door,” he smiled as he led us to a vineyard literally metres away. The vines looked much as the others had, to me, until Christiaan highlighted some glaring differences. The vine leaves showed no signs of mould, silica-binding Dandelions grew prolifically between the rows and there was no moss on the ground. The latter is a sure sign that the ground is compacted and that water is most likely not making much headway when trying to find its way down to the plant roots. “This soil hasn’t been worked at all this season,” he said as he bent down and stuck his hand into the soft earth – right up to the wrist. As he held out a fistful of dirt and humus, and shared that the vineyard received about half as much water as its neighbour,yet produced about 80% the yield, I had no need to look for any nail marks; I was convinced.

As our tour continued, via the beautiful Percheron horses that have replaced tractors on the farm and the many wine half-barrels filled with earthworms that break down the restaurant’s organic waste to produce the concentrated basis of some of the preparations fed to the vines in the winter, I couldn’t help but ask Christiaan about some of the stranger biodynamic practices.

Yes, amongst other things he buries cow horns filled with manure in autumn and digs them up in spring to produce a ‘tea’ which he uses as a fertilizer; Chamomile (both local and exotic) gets the same treatment – save that the horn is replaced by Bovine small intestines and he’s adamant, as microbes are central to the biodynamic way of life, that astronomical influences are best not ignored, despite being difficult to quantify exactly. His motivation is consistent, considered and generally sensible: the biodynamic approach has proven itself to work at Waterkloof, so rather than dismissing it, questioning one’s own preconceptions is possibly more enlightening.

Sometime later, as I stood at the ten-metre-high glass wall of the restaurant with its commanding view over False Bay, I found myself listening to the deserved oohs and aahs brought on by recounting the exquisite dishes Gregory had presented to round off our visit. Pressed for my favourite I found it impossible to choose just one and as I looked down on the Percherons, resting from their work in the vineyards, I realised that the item that had moved me most was Christiaan’s serving of a little biodynamic food for thought.

The Restaurant at Waterkloof is closed for the month for June (from 3 June to 3 July) but tastings and farm visits continue; call 021 858 1292 for more information.