Small Island began with a parcel of Pinot Noir, a crowdfunding campaign and considerably less equipment than would have been useful. The wine came first. The rest accumulated.

I have always loved science and art; winemaking is one of the few things that brings these together in harmony. With the ever-increasing extremes in weather, I try to make wine as the season dictates. It is important to be reactive and decisive. You need to listen to the vineyard and let the grapes express what they should become — sometimes that is a fresh, fun wine to drink without much thought, and sometimes something very special to savour.

I come from a cooking and hospitality background, and the wines are made with good grapes and the people who will drink them in mind. Quality over quantity, and each vintage uniquely its own. Premium but accessible — wine is meant to be enjoyed. I like the way a wine can capture the essence of a site and a season, hold on to it, and then set it free in the glass.

Of our sites, Saltwater River is the exceptional one. It sits on the Tasman Peninsula, south-east of Hobart, and it has already won several gold medals for its Pinot Noir.

The site is very marginal. In cool or wet years it can break your heart. In warm years the vines cool off every night, which slows the development of sugars and gives an incredibly long ripening period. It has a character that is impossible to replicate and completely identifiable once you know it. I think it will end up recognised as the equivalent of Tasmanian Grand Cru.

Making wine in Tasmania can be marginal and sometimes heartbreaking, but when the stars align the fruit can rival the best in the world. Tasmania is the worst kept secret in the Australian wine industry, and it has drawn some of the best winemakers in the country. It is a pretty special place to work.

That is the short version. The longer one — the crowdfunding, the hand-painted labels, the events, the sites we have worked and left — is in Stories.