We’re seated in a living area off the farm office at Delheim on a sweltering morning, Vera and Spatz Sperling and an assortment of Jack Russells in prime positions on, in front of and under chairs.
Daughter Nora serves iced water and leaves us to travel back in time some 60 years when the Sperlings started farming at Delheim.
This was on a portion of the original 17th century grant named De Driesprongh.
Although a trained farmer, Spatz had no knowledge of winemaking but enthusiasm and determination, with advice from other German winemakers living at the Cape, all helped and by 1970 Delheim was an established Simonsberg producer and Spatz was already renowned for his colourful personality and warm hospitality.
In 1971 Frans Malan of Simonsig, Spatz Sperling of Delheim and Niel Joubert of Spier started the first wine route in South Africa with a dozen members, a pioneering forerunner to the present Stellenbosch Wine Routes with 130 members. In those days not only was wine tourism non-existent, but, given the extent of restrictive laws governing the industry, it’s something of a miracle that anyone bought wine.
The iron fist of the KWV and the absurdities of conservative national laws combined to engender ingenious schemes as farmers proceeded to outwit both regulations and officials. With many a wry chuckle, Spatz and Vera take up the story:
“We weren’t allowed to put Delheim signs on the R44 to indicate where travellers should turn off.”
So the Sperlings persuaded son and daughter Victor and Nora to stand beside the road with a banner emblazoned with Delheim’s name during the week between Christmas and New Year.
“Of course weekdays were important as we had to close at three on Saturdays, and weren’t allowed to open on Sundays at all.”
Having set up a tasting room, the Sperlings wanted a restaurant where visitors could have lunch with their wine. A long battle with officialdom ensued.
Vera recalls how they applied for a vendor’s licence which allowed them to portion and serve food brought in from outside sources such as bakers and cheesemakers.
“Diners could not drink outside, they were not allowed to buy wine while at table, they had to buy a bottle from a designated area, take it to their table, where we quickly exchanged it for a chilled version.”
Other legislative burdens involved the time-consuming KC6 – a form which had to be filled out in triplicate for every case of wine sold.
Regulations forbade the processing of grapes other than his own in his cellar. Neighbour and friend Frans Malan had decided to try his hand at a dessert wine, and needed to use a small press, which Spatz had, to crush his maiden harvest. To avoid being spotted, the grapes were brought to Delheim under cover of night.
The 1998 Platter guide lists Delheim as producer of 80 000 cases comprising a wide range of both red and white wines, with a restaurant and facilities open seven days a week. The farm was an important destination for visitors and, as the new century dawned, the future looked rosy.
But nature played cruel tricks in 2000 with disastrous fires that razed mountain areas including Delheim’s indigenous forest, much beloved by Spatz.
“He replanted the entire forest,” says Vera matter-of-factly, “and, just when it was coming on, we had an invasion of caterpillars.
“I wondered if I should collect them, deep-fry them and serve them as snacks – it worked with the snails.” (I still have a tiny terracotta pot labelled Vera’s Vineyard which was used as baking utensil.)
In the rustic tasting room Nora and Victor Sperling pour Delheim’s most popular wines. We sample the Heerenwijn (R39), first made in 1976, a light-hearted blend of sauvignon, chenin and colombard, followed by the perennially popular pinotage rosé, packed with fruit balanced by tangy acidity. The award-winning chardonnay Sur Lie 2009 (R125) is rich with butterscotch and citrus flavours.
In 1975 Spatz bought a second farm as he needed land suitable for red grapes. This resulted in tight financial times, patiently endured by his ever-supportive wife.
A single vineyard produces the grapes for Delheim’s fine shiraz and its name, Vera Cruz, reflects the “cross she bore with fortitude”.
No Delheim tasting could finish without the famous late harvest Spatzendreck, an early effort by Spatz that got scant praise when first produced. Not only did he persist until he had a fine wine, but he retained both name and label: Spatz being a German colloquial term for a sparrow, “dreck” its droppings, both illustrated by a sparrow perched on a barrel.
Lunch at Delheim is a relaxed experience with children and dogs competing for space between the tables on the terrace. Chilled gazpacho, the robust house salad, pasta with wild mushrooms and Franschhoek trout are relished and pinotage ice-cream makes a refreshing finale.
Siblings Nora and Victor uphold the hard-working tradition established by their parents, with Nora handling exports, marketing and overseeing the restaurant operation. Victor heads viticulture, watching over 375 hectares of vineyards while fulfilling the environmental criteria that have seen Delheim listed as a Biodiversity Wine Initiative champion.
Dedication and enthusiasm are tempered by new problems faced by contemporary farmers. Victor is only half joking as he elaborates: “Farmers are becoming an endangered species. With the job being a 24/7 one, the thought of being a lawyer or someone who goes home on Friday afternoon and doesn’t think about the office again until Monday morning is very tempting.”
Lack of government support and farmland eyed for exploratory drilling by mining companies are worries compounded by the recession, a stagnant local market and a strong rand inhibiting exports.
Yet, brother and sister say they planted cabernet and pinotage last year, so they must be optimistic about the future. And with a 60th anniversary to celebrate this year, plans are being hatched.
As I said my farewells, Spatz Sperling, who is coping admirably with Parkinson’s disease, displays old-fashioned courtesy as he escorts me to the car park.
“Africa has been good to me,” he says. “Don’t forget to put that in your article.” - Sunday Argus