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| 'Brut Force With a Touch of Finesse' |
The single-most enlivening part of my time in the wine
industry, without a doubt, has been the people I’ve met. People drive me. Their
quirks, life stories, clothing choices, cleanliness, eating habits, accents…
they’re fascinating. From high-profile sommeliers to legendary winemakers and
writers, I’ve shared some amazing dinners, been welcomed into people’s homes, and
popped some stellar corks at my relatively young age. Those who have made my
experiences most worthwhile up to this point, however, are all the young people
I’ve met during my stint as a ‘traveling winemaker’. Sadly, last week I learned
that one of those bright young stars is no longer with us.
Niki Dow was a young guy from New Zealand I met last year during
my brief ‘harvest’ time in California. He shared a tiny room in a modest
suburban Santa Rosa apartment with some friends who were working at a different
local winery. He was a seamless counterpart in the cellar. His constant,
quick-witted grin was enough to make you laugh in even the most stressful
situations, or elicit laughter in the calmest of times. He put up with the crazy
antics of his Moldovan roommate ‘John’ who didn’t speak a lick of English, and even
managed to convince us all that John was a good guy at heart, despite some of his outward antics. Niki lightened
the mood for anyone who cared to share in conversation. His eloquent stories of
his rugby days from college made me wish I could have spent time as a fit young
kiwi bloke; I was stoked to get an old rugby shirt of his when he moved back to
NZ, even though it had a few holes in it and plenty of stains from a tough
vintage. His physical aptitude was apparent, and he seemed to be the type that
succeeded in every task he took on. Nonetheless, he possessed the ‘Kiwi-Humble’
I’ve come to know and love; so overwhelmingly sarcastic and jabbing (in a
lighthearted sense) upon first impression, but in the end full of compassion
and friendship. Nik, as I knew him, embodied all that I’ve come to love about
harvest. A young person, fresh out of school with the world ahead of him, when
it was easier to find a fulltime, well-paying job at home and settle into
normalcy he embarked on a journey to follow his dreams, better his craft and
expand his world outlook.
With a number of vintages under my belt I’ve gotten pretty
good at saying goodbye. We, as seasonal harvest workers spend so many hours
together in a relatively short timeframe. Best friends are made alongside the
wine, and when it’s all said and done, everyone usually parts ways and moves on
to the next job. I have fostered some high quality friendships and kept in
touch with a few people, but have also lost touch with many more I was sure to
see again. The wine industry is so small though that you never know when you
might one day cross paths with an old friend. I somehow figured that would happen
with Nik so his passing hit me like a bag of bricks. Maybe it’s also because it
could have been me if I hadn’t decided to stay home this vintage. Maybe because
it’s a harsh realization of hope, so quickly lost. He was in Portugal working for
a world-class Port producer, a job that isn’t given to just anyone. Only 23
years old, he was surely brimming with excitement and infusing the locals with
his positively high-octane energy. They were surely challenged, yet humbled by
his work ethic, so notable it has inspired a Facebook tribute group called ‘TheLegacy of the War Donkey-Niki Dow’. I encourage you to check it out.
After sorting through the emotions in his passing, I move
forth with a renewed energy and outlook. I’ve reached out to a few old friends
who deserve a better effort from me. I’m going to do a better job of busying
myself with work that I truly love, push myself to physical and intellectual
extremes, and be sure to laugh a little more often, knowing that today could be
my last.
Cheers to you Nik! You will be missed, but your legend will
live on and inspire us all.