Yangarra winemaker Peter Fraser, who passed away last week, will be remembered for his pioneering work with Grenache. And also for being just a good bloke unaffected by the stardom.
Peter Fraser’s mum married a chicken farmer and Pete shovelled shit as a kid and later sold it as a side hustle.
So he was never going to get carried away when the prizes came and the family of duck-decanters waddled into Yangarra.
And when he was on the cover of WBM in 2016.
Peter was affable and engaging; humble and inclusive.
He went about it quietly and efficiently.
He had more than a splash of Peter Gago in him.
The very best winemakers are often the most approachable and generous, unaffected by stardom.
Pete was self-aware and thoughtful.
When he won the Halliday Winemaker of the Year in 2015 he thanked his neighbour and mentor Philip White for the wisdom and dedicated the prize to Jeremy Pringle who wrote a blog called Wine Will Eat Itself and who “got” Yangarra early.
Jeremy had died in tragic circumstances just the year before.
Peter served in the Army Reserves.
You’d be in the trenches with him just for the chinwag and camaraderie (and a few swigs of the 2016 High Sands if you insist).
Pete was self-effacing.
“Anyone can make great wine in a special place like this.”
He had Grenache on a string; took it for a walk like a puppy dog and everyone fussed over it, bringing oohs and aahhs to our fine wine cred.
Peter loved animals and was a fine horseman.
Most people look like a complete dickhead in a cowboy hat. Pete looked complete in it.
Among the many tributes, Yangarra neighbour Susan Smith recalled his community ways.
“Pete often called in just for a chat and to say hello to the boarding dogs. A truly special person.”
Pete loved humans too, and they loved him.
In 2000 the Jackson family from California liked what they saw in Pete.
He got the dream job in a heavenly corner of the world and a lift in a private jet.
He was loyal to the Jackson family.
He was in their corner until the day he died.
An unwavering US-Australia alliance.
Being unable to decide who got the better deal is perfect.
Philip White – fighting to stay alive for seven years – delivered the news.
I wouldn’t have wanted to hear it from anyone else.
We all need to talk about it.
Or in my case stare out the window at nothing in particular, dazed and confused like you; waiting for the next yellow-tailed black cockatoo to appear as a reminder of Pete’s love of nature and desire to leave the world a better place.
We are fortunate that this loveable character came into our lives, as short as it was.
Peter left a gift for us – a renewed sense of perspective.
Making wine is important and so is selling it.
But not as important as life itself.
The wine industry is broken hearted – and deeply reflective.
Two weeks ago Pete hosted a vertical of High Sands and scooped up a handful of the soil to tell the story.
He held Blewitt Springs in the palm of his hand and it’s hard to comprehend that the last grains of sand have slipped through his fingers.
As a community we’d all love to go back a week or so to see if there was anything we could do.
• This article first appeared in WBM‘s newsletter The Week That Was.
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