Cloudy Bay
"New Zealand 's Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc 1985; the first vintage of what became the world 's most famous white wine, and forever changed our view of what white wine could and should taste”
- Oz Clarke, Red & White
An AVIS Ford Falcon appeared at Cape Mentelle’s cellar door in 1983 and changed the world of wine forever. None of the five New Zealand winemakers on board knew it at the time, of course. Neither did the man they had come to see, winemaker David Hohnen. He took the five on a brisk tour capped off with barrel samples of his famous Margaret River Cabernets. The visitors were suitably impressed. Then, perhaps as a nod to his guests’ taste for white grapes, he let them try something he was pretty pleased with: a 1982 Semillon- Sauvignon Blanc blend.
David Hohnen
It’s not known exactly who pulled the mixed case of wines from the dusty Falcon’s spacious boot and put it down in front of David. The details are hazy on exactly which bottle, vintage or vineyard of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc caught his attention. Perhaps the effect was cumulative. All we know is that something in the box changed the course of David’s life, the perception of Sauvignon Blanc, and the world of wine altogether.
In true laconic style, he didn’t let on how it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. How it stole the show, how it blew him away, how it sparked his synapses. Instead, he shut them up with a few more barrel samples of Margaret River reds, packed them back into the car and waved them away.
“THE ESSENCE OF CLOUDY BAY GLORY IS THAT IT IS A WINE IN WHICH EVERYBODY CAN TASTE WHAT MAKES IT GREAT.”
With his Kiwi colleagues on their way back to the airport, David sat and thought. Yes, the wine was too sweet for his taste. But he could still feel the sheer volume of the aromatics: crackling capsicum, grasses so freshly-cut he could hear the mower, peeled lychee lolling along his olfactory tract.
Not one for effusiveness, David decided to do things quietly. Subtlety, not always an Australian strength, was important. He tasked Kiwi Tristram Willcox to bring a few bottles back from his January holiday. The resulting tastings confirmed his instinct: there was a great future for New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.
David decided to explore New Zealand’s terroir and find out exactly what went into that unforgettable bottle of wine. He went on a tour in 1984, ending up in Blenheim. Vineyards from all regions had shown off their very best Sauvignons. But, still, Marlborough beckoned with furls of piquant passionfruit.
It wasn’t only the wine. From his seat in the Fokker F27, he saw rolling brown hills, blue skies and the silhouette of Mount Riley. The landscape was spectacular, and David could see two things: a vision for his new wine label, and the future of Sauvignon Blanc.
The New Zealand government, however, was determined to push eager vintners away. It was offering landowners $5,000 for every acre of vines they tore out. It also refused to sell foreigners any land, which put a spanner in the works for injecting international expertise into New Zealand’s soil. Ever the clever business mind, David gathered a team of lawyers, accountants and industry veterans and set them to work on a proposal.
Meanwhile, fate decided to give things a nudge. At a typically chat-filled wine show in Auckland, David noticed only one other person tasting Sauvignons as diligently as he. That man was Kevin Judd.
In David’s quest for a winemaker, Kevin’s name had come up several times. The young British-born, Australian-raised young winemaker was producing very good white wines at Selaks. But, at the time, he and his wife Kimberley were considering a return to South Australia.
After the Auckland tasting, David asked Kevin for a tour of Selaks. During the tour David, was less interested in the wines than he was in the winemaker. Kevin’s intuition told him a new opportunity was on the horizon. A week later, David called and offered him a job in the nameless, penniless, wineryless project. A man of few words, Kevin’s reasoning was one of measured optimism.
“I THOUGHT THINGS COULD ONLY GET BETTER.”
In 1985 the project still lacked vines and a winery, but it had acquired two key ingredients: a name, and some grapes from Marlborough. A year later, Cloudy Bay’s 1985 Sauvignon Blanc would be voted best Sauvignon Blanc in the world by Wine magazine.
Nothing about the wine industry is fast, so how on earth did this come about? While there might be a few competing histories of Cloudy Bay out there, the truth is that success was far from overnight. In 1984 David convinced Stoneleigh to sell him 40 tonnes of grapes, which he and Kevin crushed and processed back in Gisborne. In 1985 they did it again with more Marlborough grapes, and the very first Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc was born.
The thing is, the 1985 Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc was good. Very good. Some people were even calling it ‘excellent’. In his 2018 book Red & White, Oz Clarke credits this first vintage with nothing less than a varietal revolution:
“NEW ZEALAND’S CLOUDY BAY SAUVIGNON BLANC 1985 - THE FIRST VINTAGE OF WHAT BECAME THE WORLD’S MOST FAMOUS WHITE WINE, AND FOREVER CHANGED OUR VIEW OF WHAT WHITE WINE COULD AND SHOULD TASTE LIKE.”
Back in those days, New Zealand’s wine industry had a terrible reputation. Earlier in the century, a Royal Commission declared New Zealand’s wines would have been marked ‘unfit for human consumption’ by any other wine-producing nation. Even the wines David had tasted in 1983 - the very wines that started the Cloudy Bay story - were not all that great. But they showed potential. There was a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’, as the English might say.
Making great wine was only half the battle (well, twothirds). Wine is as much about impressions as taste. Even the most openminded of critics need an occasional blind tasting to reset their expectations. Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc risked being sniffed at rather than wafted, grubbed up by its Antipodean origins.
David and Kevin knew the wine was good, and David wanted it ready for bigger things. He knew the 1986 London Wine Show would be the perfect stage. Cracking the British market required shrewdness. David came up with a unique label concept: the front would contain only the name, Cloudy Bay, and the variety, Sauvignon Blanc. He wanted the wine to have a chance to escape the scorn reserved for New Zealand wines. He wanted honest, even appraisal.
Kevin’s skill as a photographer (his other profession) came in handy. Working from the vision David had of Mount Riley back on his 1984 tour, he packed his camera and went for a walk. His shot of the Richmond Range was transformed into the label design by a graphic artist. It remains the inspiration to this day.
After a year of patience and perseverance, David’s loyal team convinced the Labour Government to sell 140 hectares of Wairau Valley’s prime wine-growing land. To buy it, he borrowed $1m at an eye-watering 23.5% interest rate. Stony-soiled paddocks were planted with vines, and construction began on a sophisticated winery.
IN 1986, DAVID AND KEVIN DID IT: CLOUDY BAY PRODUCED ITS FIRST WINE IN ITS VERY OWN WINERY, WITH ITS VERY OWN GRAPES.
But, like most great New Zealand success stories, it had to be famous overseas before anyone back home would take it seriously.
That same year, David took Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc to the world. After winning gold at the New Zealand Export Wine awards, it topped the Wine magazine Sauvignon Blanc tasting in London. The 1986 Sauvignon Blanc appeared at the London Wine Show and created a buzz. Compared to the traditional restrained Sauvignon Blanc, Cloudy Bay was electrifying. The intensity, the stone fruit presence and the exotic aromas were unlike anything else in the room. As a result, demand skyrocketed, with stories of collectors and queues round the block. Only a few years later, Cloudy Bay was on five continents.
IN 1989, VEUVE CLICQUOT TOOK NOTICE. THE FAMOUS CHAMPAGNE HOUSE WANTED TO SPREAD AND SEE WHAT FINE WINES COULD BE MADE IN THE NEW WORLD.
David had met with Veuve Clicquot’s then-president Joseph Henriot in Paris, and Joseph was intrigued. He decided to fly to New Zealand and find out what David was talking about.
It was exactly what Veuve Clicquot had been looking for: a place in the New World where fine wine could establish itself. Joseph and his entourage were impressed with the site and winemaker Kevin Judd. It did no harm, of course, that the wines were captivating.
Veuve Clicquot decided, much as David had done less than a decade earlier, to make it happen. They invested in Cloudy Bay and bought what became known as the Widow’s Block, named in tribute to Mme Clicquot.
But with the wisdom of two centuries of Champagne production, Veuve Clicquot left winemaking to those who lived and breathed the terroir. The partnership meant opportunities to experiment and refine, a chance to explore what else was possible. Kevin hired winemaker James Healy in 1991, and James set right to work, experimenting with non-interventionist winemaking. Cloudy Bay’s grapes and indigenous yeasts were free to ferment in fine French oak barrels. The terroir would learn to speak for itself.
The focus, as always, stayed on making wine that competed on the world stage. For David, this meant every bottle of every vintage needed to score highly in one particular category.
“I ALWAYS CALLED IT THE EYEBROW FACTOR,” SAYS DAVID. “YOU LOOK AROUND THE ROOM, AND AS SOON AS THEY PUT THEIR NOSE IN THE GLASS OF CLOUDY BAY, THEIR EYEBROWS WENT NORTH.”
The eyebrow factor was about captivating the drinker and changing what people expected from a variety thought to be prim and austere. The 1996 Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc was the first New Zealand wine ranked in the Wine Spectator Top Wines of the World list. It came in at #7, rubbing shoulders with iconic white wines like Ch.teau d’Yquem. Eyebrows travelled north, while the mantle for superior Sauvignon travelled south.
The French connection also allowed for broadening horizons and deepening expertise. Cloudy Bay’s winemakers branched out with varieties and techniques. They established the Champagne-influenced sparkling Pelorus and set a new standard for Chardonnay. The results of James Healy’s experiments were revealed in 2000 with Te Koko Sauvignon Blanc. Barrel fermented with wild yeasts, it is a rare example of the variety that rewards cellaring.
Not long after that, Veuve Clicquot’s parent company Louis Vuitton Mo.t Hennessy recognised the potential in Cloudy Bay’s ambitions. It bought the whole of Cloudy Bay Vineyards into the fold in 2003, which meant more investment in the winery and vineyards. This ensured the winemakers could focus on doing what they did best: making captivating wine.
The thing about New Zealand is that it floats way out in the Pacific, untethered to tradition, as much a challenge as an opportunity. Making waves from this spot in the ocean takes a sense of adventure and enterprise. David Hohnen brought that sense with him in 1984 and it sparked Cloudy Bay. The recent expansion into Central Otago, and the 2014 Te Wahi Pinot Noir, show that the intrepid spirit is alive and well.
“NEW ZEALAND’S CLOUDY BAY SAUVIGNON BLANC 1985 - THE FIRST VINTAGE OF WHAT BECAME THE WORLD’S MOST FAMOUS WHITE WINE, AND FOREVER CHANGED OUR VIEW OF WHAT WHITE WINE COULD AND SHOULD TASTE LIKE.”
Red Shed
Barracks Vineyard
Few would have predicted Marlborough’s rapid ascent to become one of New Zealand’s preeminent – and internationally renowned – wine-growing regions. From August 2023 the region’s winemakers and growers are celebrating 50 years of Marlborough’s official beginning as a wine region, and inviting the country to re-discover the depth of Marlborough wine.
Discover the history of our region’s wine brands and explore stories about our people and place that make it special here. https://www.marlboroughwinenz.com/2023
#marlboroughwinenz #marlboroughnz #celebrating50years