Back in the 1970s I was a cricket purist. Conservative beyond my tender years, I proudly paid more attention to the Test cricket being played by Australia’s depleted team of 1977 than I did to those who had participated in the depleting. Eventually, of course, I came to my senses and revelled in the incredible cricket being played by Kerry Packer’s rebel World Series Cricket. And so I have Kerry Packer to thank, for without WSC I’d never have experienced one of the most memorable lunches of my life and a meeting I treasure deeply.
Just before Christmas in 1977 at the WACA Ground in Perth, the Australian Test team – perhaps containing two players who might have made the side in more usual circumstances – beat a full-strength Indian team laden with talent. The hero with the bat for Australia, was a local high school teacher who been selected for his wrist-spin bowling. Coming in at first wicket down in the second innings to protect top order players in fading light, he stuck around the next day and smashed an unforgettable 105 off a mere 165 balls, mainly pounded square of the wicket on either side, if my memory serves me. His name was Tony Mann. He was only the second ‘nightwatchman’ in Test cricket history to score a hundred. I’ve never forgotten that innings.
While Tony was a fine State cricketer who had enjoyed a meteoric rise as a youngster, that series against India was his only exposure to Test cricket. Music fans might indeed reflect towards Elton John when rationalising his nickname of ‘Rocket’, but it never came from that source. Instead, Tony Mann threw a cricket ball with rare power and accuracy. He was first called ‘Rocket’ at university and it stuck. His father Jack Mann, an icon in Western Australian wine, once told Wally Edwards, who also played Test cricket for Australia, that while Tony only needed a single bullet to down a kangaroo, he’d often instead take a bag of cricket balls and knock them over with those.
Back in 1984 Tony had bought a site in the Swan Valley which, with the help of his wife Lyn and son Rob Mann, he had progressively planted to chenin blanc, tempranillo and malbec. Rocket’s Vineyard was established. After his early passing at the age of 74, his name lives on today through the wines crafted by Rob and his wife Genevieve, whose single vineyard Swan Valley wines are sold under the Corymbia label and proudly claim their Rocket’s Vineyard origins. More about them shortly.
Ever since I got into writing about wine in 1984 (when I published Thirst for Knowledge) I had become aware of Dorham Mann – Tony’s older brother by six years – although I hadn’t pieced together their familial relationship. Dorham commenced as an extension winemaker and viticulturist for WA’s Department of Agriculture in 1963, becoming winemaker for Sandalford in Margaret River in late 1972. He developed Sandalford as a successful mid-market brand, annually making more than 20,000 cases of very good and affordable wine which sold out quickly. Then, after a period as a consultant, he returned to the Swan Valley to establish the Mann Winery with Anthea, his daughter. Dorham is one of nature’s gentlemen and a more passionate Western Australian has never been born. I have enjoyed his company every time we’ve met over the years. Today, at the age of 85, Dorham remains an active participant in the business, staying fit and strong with the work he loves.
Which brings me to that lunch. Neither John Jens who arranged it nor I can quite figure what year it was, but it was the day after I had hosted a corporate event in Perth and JJ had told me he had lined up something special. So we drove into the nearby Swan Valley, meeting Dorham at his vineyard where a table and chairs had been set up under what might have been a shelter for machinery. En route we had picked up a delicious seafood hamper prepared by yet another member of the Mann clan, JJ’s wife Kate Lamont, the well-known Perth chef and cooking author. On arrival – and throughout the lunch – we were poured a restorative glass of Dorham’s fizz – unusually made from cabernet sauvignon and its white clone (discovered in the Swan Valley by Dorham’s late wife Sally) called cygne blanc. Anthea, Dorham’s daughter and business colleague, completed the group, or so I thought. I remember feeling no pain and thinking that the day did not need improving. But then it got better, for Tony Mann showed up. It was the first and only time I ever met him.
As you can surely tell, I’ve tried my very hardest while writing this piece to conceal the fact that I’m a cricket tragic. I doubt I’ve succeeded. But here, in a perfect Spring day in the Swan Valley, seated with three members of the Mann family plus an extended one in JJ – and this family is the West’s closest to wine nobility – I then participated in one the of most intriguing and educational cricket conversations of my life. You don’t last too long in cricket unless you’re prepared to have a chat – there’s a lot of free time while you’re just watching the game – and the Manns were all in form that day.
The Mann family is steeped in the sport. Dorham and Tony’s father is none other than the legendary winemaker Jack Mann, after whom Houghton’s leading red has since been named and for whom he created a wine called Houghton White Burgundy (since renamed White Classic) which was for many years a best-seller across Australia. Jack is famous for his 51 vintages at Houghton, where he began as an apprentice and departed as a legend. At cricket he was a fine bowler who used to bowl side-arm. Later on, if he wasn’t umpiring cricket, he was likely watching it.
Back Row – Kevin Gartrell, Dorham Mann, Dennis Yagmich, Bruce Yardley, K Murphy, Glenn Gray.
Front Row – Brian Rakich, Stan Wilson, Tony Mann, Jack Gartrell, Keith Slater
Playing for Midland-Guildford in Perth, where he and Tony became Life Members, Dorham was a First-Grade premiership cricketer, which places him light years above my level. And Tony, as I have said, played for Australia. Both told stories of bygone ages when international touring teams would lunch at the Mann family residence, occasionally playing with younger iterations of Tony and Dorham under the verandah. The afternoon slipped by all too quickly, but the memory remains. Except for the date!
But there’s more to the Mann family’s connection with wine than I have let on. In fact, Jack’s father, George, had moved from Chateau Tanunda in the Barossa Valley to become the winemaker at Houghton in the Swan Valley, a post he held for around thirty years. It was George who gave Jack his start as an apprentice.
And here’s the bit that really completes the generational circle, in a way that can only really happen within a family. You see, Tony’s son Rob is an exceptional winemaker himself – and one I have rated amongst this country’s elite for many a year – and with his wife Genevieve he is taking the fruit from his father’s Rocket’s Vineyard and reinventing Swan Valley wine in a way that his father, grandfather and great-grandfather would all be truly delighted.
Rob’s winemaking CV includes a spell as senior winemaker at Hardy’s Tintara, several years as chief winemaker at Cape Mentelle after which he ran LVMH’s Newton Vineyard in the Napa Valley, California from 2014-2017. Genevieve’s own winemaking career includes spells in South Africa, France, California, South Australia and at Howard Park in WA.
Together, Rob and Genevieve have created the Corymbia label, which presently includes four wines – two each from Rocket’s Vineyard and from their home block vineyard in Margaret River. From the Swan comes a vibrant and richly flavoured blend of tempranillo and malbec of considerable perfume and savoury nature, plus a white from chenin blanc that pays spectacular homage to Rob’s grandfather Jack, whose Houghton’s White Burgundy was initially based around Swan Valley plantings of this grape. There’s pleasing depth of fruit and perfume about this wine, along with a creaminess, brightness and refreshing finish that is perhaps more European than Australian in style.
It’s hard to overstate what these two Swan Valley wines represent, for they’re truly transformational. They are simply so far and above what I have either experienced from this region or could have imagined it producing. Am I surprised? For sure. Should I be? Probably not… Click here to see a video of Rob walking me through his current releases.
From its remote and coastal site in Margaret River, Corymbia’s Calgardup Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon is a wine of rare elegance and fineness. Only a few vintages have yet been released so it doesn’t yet have a cellaring record. I’m not in the least bothered by this, and expect it to become a regional classic, if indeed one of its own unique style, especially once the vineyard matures and the vines are more able to reflect the site’s distinctive geology and aspect.
The final Corymbia wine is also from the Calgardup Vineyard – a scarce but alluring and perfumed Cabernet Franc that I imagine the better makers of this variety in the Loire Valley would look at with some envy.
It’s been a pleasure to follow the tracks of this remarkable family with whom I share deep connections. With four generations of accomplished wine growers and makers, the Manns remain a strong, proud family deeply in touch with their traditions and their practical and spiritual home. In cricket and in wine, Western Australia is significantly better off for having them. And yes, Rob has the cricket bug as well.
In truth, however, I’ve barely touched the Manns’ entire story, which is closely connected to other significant families in Australian wine and hospitality such as the Lamonts and the Sobels. A yarn perhaps for another day…
It’s no accident that the Corymbia wines feature in the shop at Oliver’s Wines, which only includes wines I believe to be amongst the very best of their kind and price. Incidentally, Rob Mann is also the winemaker behind the Swinney label, which we’re also proud to select and carry.
