Just weeks ago, optimism ran high at the Domaine Perrault Winery in Navan, eastern Ontario. The vines were heavy with grapes, the summer had been hot and dry—conditions that usually promise a stellar vintage. "We were expecting a sizeable harvest this year," winemaker Graham Fish told CBC. "We were pretty excited." For a moment, it seemed as though the stars had aligned for local winemakers.
But on the nights of September 19 and 20, a cold snap swept across the region, dashing those hopes. Frost settled over the vineyards, bringing the growing season to an abrupt halt. For Fish and others, it meant an urgent race against time. "Once you get a frost, usually you have about two weeks, give or take, to get whatever fruit is out there off," Fish explained. After that, the grapes are no good for wine—"You'll be more likely to make vinegar from it than wine."
Domaine Perrault managed to harvest about 70 percent of their grapes, thanks to a hurried effort supported by volunteers. While that figure is "standard," Fish admitted it was only possible because they acted quickly. Not everyone was so fortunate. At KIN Vineyards in Carp, on Ottawa's rural western edge, owner Lorraine Mastersmith faced a harsher blow. Their block of Chardonnay vines, already weakened by the previous year's heavy rain and a plague of Japanese beetles, couldn't survive the frost. "If you did the math on what it's costing and the level of production that we're getting off the vineyard this year ... in order to recoup those costs, we'd have to charge close to $200 a bottle, which we can't do," Mastersmith said. Ultimately, KIN Vineyards lost about 40 percent of their Chardonnay grapes. "You just suffer the loss and hope that next year we'll have a better crop."
Not every vineyard in the area was hit by the frost. Jan-Daniel Etter, owner of Vignoble Clos du Vully, explained that planting vines at higher elevations spared his vineyard from the cold. "We limit the risk of cold weather by planting our vines above where frost tends to settle," Etter said. Yet, even for those who dodged the frost, the challenges of a changing climate are ever-present. Etter, Mastersmith, and Fish all noted that the climate in eastern Ontario has shifted noticeably in recent years. "I actually think climate change is helping us," Mastersmith observed. "Our growing season is a little bit longer ... look at the weather this weekend, it's incredible and that's not typical, but it really is good for growing grapes."
Still, the benefits come with new headaches. Fish has observed more severe cold snaps, and Etter pointed to the rise of the invasive Japanese beetle—a pest not seen in the region just five years ago. While warmer falls help the vines prepare for winter, the unpredictability of the weather leaves winemakers on edge. Yet, Fish remains pragmatic. "I think if you dwell on it too much, then you're sort of setting yourself up to be disappointed more often than not. You got to just kind of keep moving with what you got and just look at the potential that's still there."
But the story of hardship isn't confined to eastern Canada. Across the border and throughout the United States, the wine industry is facing its own storm—one not caused by weather, but by the global market. As reported by NPR, a glut of unsold wine and a sluggish international market have forced many U.S. vineyards to make a painful decision: let grapes rot in the fields rather than harvest them. It's a move driven by necessity, not neglect.
In Washington's Red Mountain region, Sarah Goedhart of Hedges Family Estate watched as a mechanical harvester dropped perfectly good grapes onto the ground. "It's wine that's never going to be made, and for a vintage as good as we're having this year, it's pretty painful," Goedhart said. For the first time in nearly two decades of winemaking, she's had to throw away fruit. The reason? Her cellar is overflowing with unsold wine from the past two years. "It's pretty typical to have the previous vintage in-barrel during harvest, but not two vintages in-barrel." Faced with this backlog, Hedges harvested only half their grapes, discarding the rest to keep their vines healthy and prevent disease. Sales were down 13 percent from the previous year, forcing cuts in expenses and staff. The family has even dipped into personal assets to stay afloat.
It's a pattern repeating across the U.S. Natalie Collins, president of the California Association of Winegrape Growers, described the current downturn as "one of the most serious" in decades. "It's not really because of one singular issue. It is a combination of challenges all hitting at once," Collins told NPR. Tariffs and retaliatory trade measures have battered exports, while global demand for wine has declined. Younger generations, Collins noted, are drinking less alcohol than their predecessors, and the market is crowded with competitors—beer, cider, seltzers, cocktails, non-alcoholic drinks, and even cannabis products. Health concerns about alcohol have also played a role.
The oversupply has led some growers to rip out their vineyards or simply abandon them. Chris King of the New York State Wine Grape Growers said the hardship is deeply personal. "It's your neighbors. You feel their hardship. You feel their pain. And to see somebody who has put their life and their fortune and their dreams into this business and have it go away is just really sad to watch."
While the grape glut is currently squeezing growers and winemakers, Adam Schulz of the Incredible Bulk Wine Company warned that this could eventually flip. As more vineyards scale back or close, the industry might shrink so much that, years from now, there could be a wine shortage. "At some point, we're going to cross the threshold where there isn't enough bulk wine inventory, there aren't enough grapes in the ground," Schulz cautioned.
The irony isn't lost on those in the business: after years of abundance, the pendulum could swing the other way. For now, winemakers from Ontario to California are left to weather the storm—whether it's an untimely frost or a market in freefall. Some, like Fish, choose optimism. Others, like Goedhart, brace for a long recovery. All agree: the world of wine is changing, and survival means adapting—sometimes at a painful cost.
As the 2025 harvest draws to a close, the resilience of grape growers and winemakers is on full display, even as they navigate unpredictable weather and an unforgiving market. The future of wine may be uncertain, but for those who tend the vines, hope and hard work remain perennial companions.
