Chapter 54: Unified Wine & Grape Symposium (1)
TL: Hanguk
The next day, when I visited Jacob's farm in Sacramento again, his mood was noticeably deflated compared to the day before.
"What's wrong? Did the estimate come in high?"
The reason seemed obvious enough, so I tested the waters, and Jacob nodded. Then, with a glum expression, he held out the estimate he'd gotten from the company. The document had the amount written in bold. It was the projected cost for laser leveling equipment rental and installation.
"Hmm... two hundred dollars per acre. Your farm is eighty acres, so that's sixteen thousand dollars... and with the observation station construction and labor costs, the total comes to about forty thousand dollars?"
"Yeah..."
Jacob was making a long face, weighed down with worry over the money.
"Our farm wasn't always this strapped for cash, but my dad's hospital bills were enormous. On top of that, the harvests were poor these past few years since his health started declining. At least thanks to you, last year's harvest turned out decent, so that was a relief."
I understood. There's a saying in America that getting sick can bankrupt a family.
"Yeah, I get it. But you don't have to worry too much."
"Huh? What do you mean I don't have to worry?"
"I looked into a USDA NRCS (Natural Resources Conservation Service) support program. If you apply under the soil conservation or water-saving categories, you could get a subsidy. You don't have to shoulder the whole cost by yourself."
Jacob, who had been looking so down, brightened up.
"Really? Something like that exists?"
"If you dig around, there are actually several programs like this. People just don't know about them, so they never apply. Once you submit the application and get approved, it'll be a huge help."
"Got it, I'll do that."
A few days later, I got a call from Jacob, whose spirits had lifted. But the call was anything but good news.
"My dad... passed away..."
The funeral for Lucas Miller was held.
Instead of the earthy smell of the farm, the gentle sound of a church organ filled the heavy space. The chapel, with its white walls and rows of wooden chairs, was packed with people dressed in black.
The casket sat in the center, and on top of the polished wooden coffin, white chrysanthemums were mixed with red roses. Jacob was seated in the front row. His face struggled to maintain composure, but his hands were trembling faintly.
The pastor leading the service opened his mouth with a solemn expression.
"Lucas was... a farmer, a father, and our neighbor. He loved the land, and he loved his family. The seeds he sowed weren't only in the fields. They live in the hearts of his family and in the memories of his neighbors."
People nodded and wiped at the corners of their eyes, and Maggie was quietly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Jacob held onto the shoulder of his mother sitting beside him. Watching them, I too felt tears rising to the back of my eyes, but I held them in.
The time came to approach the casket and pay final respects. Jacob walked forward with heavy steps. His father's photograph, placed atop the casket, greeted him. It held the same smile his father had given him for the last time from his hospital bed.
Jacob clenched his jaw, fighting back tears, and spoke.
"Dad... don't worry. Mom, and the farm... I'll protect them no matter what."
Jacob placed his hand on the casket and stood there for a long time, as if trying to etch the fading warmth into his fingertips.
Armando and I watched quietly from the back, and Chloe turned her head away, trying to hide her streaming tears.
That afternoon, after the funeral ended, the farm returned to silence. People left one by one, and the chapel bells had gone still.
"It's okay. You'll get through this."
"Thank you all for coming..."
We comforted Jacob like that and then left. Seeing how remarkably composed he had been even at the funeral, I believed he and Maggie would be able to weather this together.
***
Time passed, winter flew by quickly, and spring arrived.
Jacob's farm had received funding from the USDA NRCS, completed the laser leveling work, and even built the observation station, he said. He had finished all the tasks that needed to be done over winter.
Chloe's farm had been just as busy. Following my instructions, she measured the soil acidity, applied lime and gypsum, and then kicked off spring with trace applications of boron and zinc.
I, on the other hand, had a bit more free time. My dad, having already been through one spring, knew exactly what needed to be done in winter and spring without me having to tell him.
So I started looking into something I'd been putting off. I needed to expand the winery using the seven hundred thousand dollars I'd received from Chloe's father, Frederick.
The place I arrived at, having set out early, was the Sacramento Convention Center.
At the entrance, a large banner reading "Unified Wine & Grape Symposium 2005" was hanging, and below it, industry professionals in suits and farm owners in casual clothes stood mingled together in line.
The name tags hanging from everyone's necks signaled that this was the front line of the wine industry, and just being here was enough to make my heart race with excitement.
"Nice atmosphere."
Even before the regression, expos like this always thrilled me. Just browsing new technologies and new equipment and getting consultations was enough to get my hopes up.
Once inside the massive expo hall, it was filled with state-of-the-art equipment by the standards of this era: fermentation tanks, oak barrels, bottling lines, and the latest agricultural machinery.
"I heard Mendocino's harvest was down about twenty percent from previous years?"
"That's right. But Central Valley actually saw an increase. Market prices are going to fluctuate a bit."
Conversations drifted naturally to my ears as I walked past.
A little further along, a middle-aged man in a suit raised his voice next to a gleaming tank.
"What's the cooling efficiency on this tank? The last model couldn't hold the temperature in the middle of summer."
"This one has a double-jacket structure, so it's much more stable. It can control fermentation temperature to within plus or minus one degree."
I stopped in my tracks without realizing it. Plus or minus one degree... Just hearing that kind of claim in 2005 was impressive.
At the booth right next to it, a young couple was talking over oak barrel samples.
"Do you use French oak barrels, by any chance?"
"Yes, medium toast. We went with light toast last year, and it was too bland."
I smiled as I listened to the disappointment and anticipation carried in the tails of their words. I could feel firsthand that this was a place where people fought tooth and nail to protect their wineries and make better wine.
Just then, a middle-aged salesman approached me from the side with a smile.
"Welcome! We're Santa Rosa Stainless Steel. Come take a look at our latest stainless steel fermentation tanks!"
Since I had come precisely to look at fermentation tanks, I naturally stopped. A large tank gleaming in silver reflected the exhibition hall lighting and caught my eye. It was a cylindrical tank as tall as two adults stacked on top of each other, with shining pipes and gauges attached to its side.
"Do you run a winery? Or are you planning to start one?"
The blond, middle-aged salesman approached with a bright smile. Pinned to his chest was a badge reading "Mike, Sales Manager".
"I run a small winery. I have a fifteen-acre vineyard."
Mike's eyes lit up instantly.
"Ah, that's the perfect size. This five-thousand-liter tank you're looking at right now is a model designed exactly for wineries like yours. It can hold about seven tons of grapes at once, and in terms of wine bottles, that yields around six to seven thousand bottles."
He tapped the tank's surface with practiced ease and continued.
"It's made of 304 stainless steel, so it's sanitary and easy to clean. The interior is electropolished, so there's absolutely no metallic taste transferred to the wine. It can also be used for storage after fermentation is complete. And as you probably know, what you see here is the temperature control panel. During fermentation, glycol coolant circulates through pipes inside the tank walls, allowing you to maintain the desired temperature. Even on hot summer days, you don't have to worry about fermentation going wrong."
I nodded and ran my hand along the tank's surface, feeling the cold touch of metal against my fingertips. It was as if it were a living heart, waiting for the day when grapes would transform into wine inside it.
Mike stepped closer and quickly picked up a brochure from the table, handing it to me.
"If you look here, there are options by size. From three thousand liters to ten thousand liters, you can mix and match as needed. If you'd like, we can arrange a custom design consultation with our engineer right away."
I slowly opened the brochure in my hands, and beside the densely printed specifications was a photo of tanks lined up neatly in a row.
"If you order now, installation is possible before the fall harvest season. And of course, as an expo event, we're running a special promotion where you can get fifteen percent off the prices listed in the brochure."
I had come here specifically to buy tanks, and now they were even offering a discount. There was no reason not to buy here.
"So then... are these the only options for the five-thousand-liter and ten-thousand-liter tanks?"
"The base model runs about fifteen thousand dollars, and the fermentation type with cooling jacket included is around twenty thousand. The slightly larger ten-thousand-liter models vary by options, but you can generally expect around thirty thousand dollars."
"Hmm..."
I nodded and quickly ran the numbers in my head. Five units of the five-thousand-liter tanks would be about a hundred thousand dollars. Two units of the ten-thousand-liter tanks would add up to sixty thousand. A total of a hundred and sixty thousand dollars... and I'd be adding a total capacity of forty-five thousand liters.
Compared to the budget of seven hundred thousand dollars, I hadn't even spent half yet, so it was more than manageable.
"Having the tanks in place is honestly half the battle. But to keep fermentation quality consistent, you absolutely need a cooling system. A glycol chiller typically runs between fifty and seventy thousand dollars. It can connect multiple tanks at once, so even in midsummer, you can keep fermentation temperature within plus or minus one degree."
"Sounds great. Then I'll order five of the five-thousand-liter tanks and two of the ten-thousand-liter ones."
Even with the same Cabernet Sauvignon, the flavor differs depending on the vineyard location, soil, and harvest timing. Also, since fermentation is carried out by living microorganisms (yeast), each tank ferments at a different rate, so splitting into multiple tanks allows for more flexible temperature control, cooling, and pump-overs (the process of circulating the wine liquid from bottom to top). For that reason, fermenting each block separately preserves the individual character and makes it possible to create the optimal blend later during the blending stage, which is why I was dividing them into multiple tanks.
"Wise decision."
As he beamed with delight, I casually slipped in a question.
"By any chance... could you install something like multipoint temperature sensors, dissolved oxygen sensors, or CO₂ sensors for monitoring fermentation on the tanks?"
Mike, the salesman, looked startled.
"I'm sorry? Why would you want something like that...?"
"I'd like to make more precisely crafted wine."
"Ha ha ha! That's quite a unique... distinctive perspective you have. I'm sorry, but that's not something we'd be able to do."
"Hmm. I see... What if... another company were to add custom options to these tanks? That would be possible, right?"
"Ah... you'd want to do that?"
"Yes. If that's the case..."
As he hesitated for a moment, I spoke firmly.
"If adding those options means you won't honor the after-sales service later, I'll cancel the contract."
"Sir, the thing is... if the company installing those options damages the fermentation tank in the process, that could be a problem."
It was a perfectly reasonable concern. I shrugged and said,
"Then if I select a company and bring them in... could you collaborate with them to build it the way I want? If you can do that, I'll forgo the fifteen percent discount."
At my proposal, the salesman blinked.
"Why would you go that far...?"
"If it's not possible, I'll go somewhere else."
When I turned to leave, he quickly grabbed my sleeve.
"Ah, sir! I never said it wasn't possible. Not at all."
"So it can be done?"
"Just give me a moment, please. Just a moment."
He immediately made a phone call somewhere. After a lengthy call spent fervently persuading someone on the other end, he wiped a round of sweat from his brow and broke into a wide smile.
"It's settled. If you could just add five percent on top of the original price, we'll include an after-sales service guarantee in the contract so you can pursue your vision to your heart's content."
*****
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