The native tauhou (silver-eye) is another vintner's nemesis. Its diminutive stature makes it too small to gobble a berry whole, so instead it punctures each only once, before moving its sticky beak to the next.
Yet here's the paradox with this pest. Apparently a single peck dehydrates the grape, and if the rain stays away, the flavours therein concentrate and can make for a stellar drop.
Picking on the same Maraekakaho vineyard in 2012 was a different story. Unseasonal rain had encouraged a widespread rot. But again, I'm told the dusty harvest was later rendered into gold medal-winning rose.
What I formerly thought were parasitic influences, can in fact be symbiotic. The grape endures.
It dawned on me that an acid-sweet mouthful of grapes takes you on a similar journey to wine tasting. I guess appreciation begins at the vine.
With a raw product as exquisite as this, I can't wait for what comes post-crush.
