How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 47: Harvest Season (1)

It's gradually becoming harvest season.

By now, even the grapes planted outside the original farm should have matured fully. Seisui and Shine Muscat, along with various other varieties, have blossomed all over Roanoke Island.

After a long time, I went out to harvest with the 30 English people (minus 2) who could be called the "founding members" of Roanoke Island, along with Manteo's tribe members.

"Now... we'll consider European export for the grapes. Fruits with cracks or pest damage should be removed separately right away. If those remain, fungi will spread to other fruits as well."

"...What are fungi?"

"Ah, good... question. Um..."

"..."

"..."

Five minutes later, Bacon fainted on the spot.

Anyway.

The situation is different from before when we would pick grapes and distribute them here and there, eating the problematic ones ourselves.

Now that we're officially connected with England, we need to seriously research long-term preservation with Shine Muscat exports in mind.

We place the grapes on a sorter, selecting the ones with good weight and health as a priority for packaging.

Ultimately, long-term preservation is about minimizing quality degradation, not maintaining quality as is. From the start, we need to send only high-quality ones across the Atlantic.

And we stack the grapes with sulfur pads that emit sulfur dioxide to maximize the preservation period of the grapes.

'...I heard they don't use sulfites in wine production now.'

Without using sulfites, long-term preservation of low-alcohol wine is nearly impossible. In other words, we are the only group that can preserve wine long-term now.

Imagine if something like a 1467 Ōnin War Edition wine remained until modern times... oh. That would no longer be something that could be harvested but would become a cultural heritage.

'Wine too... for export!'

We already have infinitely regenerating glass bottles, so if we just get cork stoppers, wine becomes an 'exportable' item.

My ambition grows even more.

Push massive amounts of grapes and wine into Europe... and fulfill the dream of a grape farmer...!

Export domestic(?) wine... to Europe!

I'll achieve the dream that the instructor shouted about in the 'Young Farmer Wine Production Workshop' run by the local government...!

After being filled with emotion for a while, looking at the newly built vineyard and the stacked storage boxes, someone walks up beside me.

"It's grown very well. Now there won't be any worries when making wine."

It was Mr. Harriot. The lawyer who collects my statements to write a Bible, and the interim pastor of this settlement.

"Well, I suppose so. If the vineyards continue to increase like this, someday beyond Roanoke Island, this entire Pamlico Sound area might be filled with grapes."

"That would be nice. I'd really like to see that."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, Nemo. It is. That would mean that much more grapes and wine are needed, and doesn't that mean that your people in this land have increased that much more?"

"Ah... I suppose it could be seen that way too."

"Yes. That's right."

"..."

"..."

As if he didn't have anything special to talk about, Mr. Harriot who came to my side doesn't speak further. I too kept my mouth shut with nothing to say, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

Both of us, just enjoying this peaceful quiet.

After a while, Mr. Harriot suddenly gazed at the horizon stretched to the east and sighed. Somehow guessing his inner thoughts, I asked casually:

"Is it because of those who left for London?"

"...Yes. As expected, you know. I couldn't shake off my worries about them."

"..."

"Even while believing they would do well, I still wonder if they really had to go to that place full of death and malice... After all that hardship settling in the New World... why did they leave so suddenly."

"..."

I couldn't alleviate his concerns.

If I were a real angel, I would have flown to London right away. I could have watched over Eleanor Dare, Walter Raleigh, Margaret Lawrence, and others for 24 hours, looking out for anything that might harm them.

But I'm just an ordinary human. I couldn't do such things.

I could only believe.

"They will... be safe."

"Is it because Nemo will protect them?"

That's not it, I'm telling you.

I shook my head with a bitter smile.

"No. Not just because of that."

"Then... why?"

Let's not bring up complicated stories. Like how Lord Raleigh is the Queen's favorite and the core of the American colony, so he's unlikely to come to harm. That's not what Harriot is curious about.

So I told him a story that would reassure him.

"Didn't they leave to do good deeds?"

"Pardon?"

"It might be a crude analogy and a cliché story, but... aren't good deeds like farming work?"

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I spoke to him while picking a Seisui grape from a styrofoam box at my feet and showing it to him.

"Just as grapes generally grow in vineyards, good deeds will be returned with good deeds."

"..."

Harriot hesitated, then took the grape I offered and put it in his mouth. Watching him roll the grape in his mouth, I continued:

"Don't countless small branches spread from a very small branch, and countless fruits grow on each of those small branches?

More good deeds will grow around those who do good deeds."

"...Is that so?"

"Yes, well, that's right.

At least, that's what I believe."

==

"Disinfection! Disinfection!"

"By order of Her Majesty the Queen, disinfection!"

Strong men carrying water diluted with disinfectant on their backs shout here and there, running through the streets of the Aldgate slum outside London's walls.

Among them were mixed guards and Lord Raleigh's personal subordinates. They got up at dawn to go around every corner of the alleys, emptying rat traps, spraying disinfected water on streets and corners of houses, and purifying wells.

As the hand of public authority reached a place that would normally have been passed by with contempt and disregard by high-ranking people, the locals gathered, muttering, to watch them.

And then.

"Harriot, from here, I don't know either. Where does this alley turn?"

"That way inside is indeed a dead end. We need to move after turning left first."

Lord Raleigh too was moving in the midst of it all.

As a London celebrity became visible, and moreover, wearing a strange white garment that a child or clown might wear, the eyes of the locals grew even wider.

What's more, isn't this the time when the 'Black Death' is going around? Why on earth has the Queen's favorite come all the way here?

"I think they're going to tear this place down... and build a large mansion."

"Are they trying to drive us out?"

"The plague is going around... first they'll burn down the unclean neighborhoods..."