Microbrewed Adventures - Charles Papazian [58]
Where does one begin?
I called my friend and advisor Michael Jackson, wondering if he might have the resources to track the whereabouts of Colonel Gayre. Michael called one week later to report that the publisher of the book had gone out of business decades ago, but he had some other leads he still needed to pursue. I couldn’t imagine success at this point, but then I didn’t know Michael, the world’s number-one fermentation detective, as well as I do today. He was in hot pursuit of something, and one week later he had a telephone number for me, saying, “I don’t know if it will work, but it’s supposed to be his home phone number.” I couldn’t quite believe it. And Michael hadn’t finished. “Oh yes, by the way, he lives in a castle in Scotland, so I’m told.”
It was too late to call that day, but early the next morning I direct dialed the number. A rather formal-sounding “Hello, Minard Castle” was the response.
“May I speak to Mr. Gayre, please?”
“This is he.”
I was a bit dumbfounded. I had anticipated a secretary to answer. It was Lieutenant Colonel Gayre. The guy who’d written the book I was holding in my hand, published nearly 40 years ago. My mind briefly flashed back to New Zealand and that original unassuming conversation with the brewmaster at RocMac Brewery, the impulsive trip to visit Havill’s meadery and a freak finding of an original copy of this book. Now, several years later, I was speaking with the author.
I briefly explained who I was and where I was from, and asked whether he would consider attending our convention to speak on mead. I had no idea how old this man was (he was 76 at the time). He simply replied, “Yes I would.”
Seventeen passionate friends of mead privately donated $1,200 in order to cover the expenses of his travel to Colorado, as the American Homebrewers Association was in no position to come up with that kind of money at the time.
Colonel Gayre attended the 1985 AHA convention, and from that visit the Association of Brewers made arrangements to reprint his book, retitled Brewing Mead. Before he departed, the colonel gave me two picture postcards of his castle and invited me to visit, should I ever be in Scotland.
That was in 1985. For eight years a visit to the castle had been on my list of things to do.
This is the abbreviated story of my visit to the home of the 20th century’s most knowledgeable, passionate and accomplished mead maker.
I arrived at Minard Castle on a cool, rainy and typically Scottish spring day. The imposing castle gate heightened the promise of what might lie within the high walls.
Minard Castle
With a view of Loch Fyne bordering the “backyard,” Colonel Gayre’s son, Reinold, and Reinold’s wife, Marion, graciously received me. My arrival turned out to be quite auspicious, as no sooner had I been shown to my room (which was nearly the size of my own house) than I hurried down to one of the castle libraries, where a small celebration of the colonel’s 86th birthday had commenced.
Unfortunately, the strokes he had suffered several years earlier had left Lieutenant Colonel Robert Gayre in poor health, but he continued his tradition of enjoying a glass of mead with lunch every day. I had brought two bottles of my own mead to share with him. Little had I known they would be birthday gifts.
I spent two full days with the Gayre family. Their hospitality was gratefully received, and Reinold and Marion’s help in locating what was left of Colonel Gayre’s mead files led me to some important insights about mead.
I had the freedom to roam among the castle’s numerous rooms, most filled with antiques, artifacts, paintings, books, cantilevered staircases, majestic fireplaces, long carpets and coats of arms. Every room seemed appointed with history. I learned much about the colonel during my brief stay. Mead was a relatively small part of his long and active life. During World War II he worked in military intelligence