Gon not forgotten

06/12/2005

The morning sun is casting long shadows across the greyish loam of Jinglers Creek Vineyard. It's the height of summer in northern Tasmania, and the deeply tanned figure of Irving Fong makes his way steadily uphill, neatly perched in the driver's seat of an ageing FIAT tractor. 

Now and again, his capped head turns back to watch the spray mist drift lazily across his fruit-laden rows of Pinot Noir. With another month or so remaining before the onset of another vintage in the North Esk Valley, today's work schedule started just a little after 7.00am. The plan is to apply this fungicide spray before the heat of the day becomes too oppressive and energy-sapping.

A beaming Sun Mun Fong.
A beaming Sun Mun Fong.

That's not exactly what you'd expect of a small valley lying 41 degrees of latitude south of the equator. Visitors to the Relbia property, barely 10 minutes from the Launceston CBD, often remark on the brilliance and sheer intensity of the sunlight here in January and February.

Such talk puts a smile on the face of the region's latest addition to its small wine-growing fraternity. When summer comes, the beads of sweat that hang from Fong's forehead are worn like badges of honour. To this vibrant and energetic 72-year-old, they're proof positive that his 2ha site on the edge of suburbia enjoys near-perfect conditions for producing premium quality wine grapes.

Those who know him well say it's hardly surprising. He's had a happy connection to the sun all of his life. Indeed, he was born Sun. Sun Mun Fong to be precise. 

Brought up in a well-to-do Cantonese household, the much loved son of a wealthy physician, he acquired the name 'Irving' after he took his father's advice to leave China before Mao's new Communist regime threatened to tear his country apart. He arrived in Australia in 1949. A raw youth of just 15 years, he had made the long journey by sea entirely on his own.

His connections to Relbia stretch back almost as far. For decades, it was home to the famous Chinese market garden of Chung Gon, established way back in 1871. Good fortune saw it provide Fong with his first steady job in Tasmania. Later, it was to give him the financial resources needed to buy out its original family ownership.

With Fong steering the venture from retail premises in Brisbane Street, it grew into a profitable fruit and vegetable business, producing a reliable income stream that raised four young children with his wife Jennifer. Their marriage lasted for more than 30 years.

When it came time to hang up his greengrocer's apron and head for retirement after Jennifer's death from illness in 1996, it wasn't long before he found the call of the land too strong to ignore.

"I was in business with Chung Gon for 30-odd years," Fong explains. 

"I didn't miss the business when I finally retired, but I really did miss the people and the conversation."

He decided to remedy the sudden ex-communication from his adoring clientele by increasing his involvement with Launceston-based community clubs and service organisations. He maintained his position as a founding member of the Ben Lomond Ski Patrol, and punctuated periods of inactivity at home with regular jogging and exercise. But it wasn't enough. Barely 18 months into retirement, he checked out of his lodgings at The Manor in Kings Meadows and went back to working the generous soils of the old market garden. 

Vintage, Jingler's Creek.
Vintage, Jingler's Creek.

In 1998, Fong planted 4000 grapevines of Pinot Noir, Pinot Gris and Chardonnay. With the move back onto the land came enrolment in a year-long course in viticulture, conducted by TAFE lecturer and former Pipers Brook Vineyard manager, Mark Brewer.

"At 64 years of age, I was one of Mark's oldest students," Fong says, expressing satisfaction in his achievement. 

"Or at least, I was one of the noisiest students. I always asked a lot of questions."

Well-grounded in the principles of cool climate viticulture, and with a sharp mind for finding out and retaining any additional details, he went about setting up a small but entirely professional vineyard operation, just a stone's throw from the 64ha Glenwood Vineyard owned by former beef baron, Josef Chromy.

He says he had no trouble finding a name for the property. The creek that feeds a small dam on his vineyard, and provides occasional nourishment to his vines, has been called Jinglers Creek since colonial times. It was coined after a rogue convict from Port Arthur escaped detention there almost two centuries ago. For months, he terrorised residents around Relbia, Breadalbane and Evandale. Among his wily traits was a highly developed capacity for stealing horses.

"In England, they called those horse thieves 'jinglers'," Fong explains, adding that the quirky colloquialism all but died out during the 20th century.

Now seven years into his vineyard project, he says he's as committed as ever to retaining its unique character. But it's a far different business from the one built up over decades of back-breaking market garden cultivation.

"When you grow vegetables, for example, you can grow three, four or maybe five crops in a year," he explains. "And if a crop fails, well you can just plough it into the soil and start all over again. But with grapes, you only get one chance of growing a crop each year, and that's it. Once your grapes are in the ground, it's more or less for good."

The site's initial planting of 1.3ha struck pay-dirt almost immediately. Fong's young vines produced their first vintage of wine in 2000 while still in their second year of development. Three years is more or less the accepted industry standard for grape production from a green field site.

The wine was made by industry pioneer Graham Wiltshire, and marked the high point in a friendship stretching back to 1955. Fong still chuckles at the thought of their first contact half a century ago. It resulted in the despatch of a Wiltshire-composed letter to the Department of Immigration.

"As I was not naturalised at the time, Graham wrote to them on my behalf," he explains. "When I next went to see him to ask what I owed him for it, he said, 'a pumpkin!' We've been firm friends ever since."

Whatever the payment this time around, the results were beneficial to all parties, and put Jinglers Creek back on the map once again.

In addition to the rewards of four subsequent vintages, Fong these days has a soul mate with whom he shares his wine and his work. It's his second wife, Kim. They first met while studying viticulture. They're a devoted couple that relish each day spent together among their sprawling vines and recently developed olive grove.

Between them, they expanded the site to its current 2ha of vines. That will be about the full extent of the vineyard's plantings, apart from a fine-tuning of its mix of grape varieties.

"We only want to make small quantities of wine from the vineyard," Fong explains. "It's quality, not quantity, that's important to us. We only make what we think we can sell."

And sell it does, thanks to a cellar door tasting room the couple have added to their home on the hill, overlooking its neat-as-a-pin vineyard. It's an intimate affair that reflects all of the love and care spent here in recent years.

Fong beams with pride when he talks of such an unlikely project being tackled so late in life.

"I don't regard anything to do with the vineyard as work," he says of the hours still spent among his carefully-tended vines. 

"I find growing grapes very relaxing. It's my daily exercise. I just make sure that I don't over-extend myself here. It seems more like a hobby really."

First published Winter 2005 issue: Tasmania 40° South