The process of harvesting in Samos was laborious but also an occasion for socialization and cooperation. “Hilia goumaria” (a thousand cargos) was the dominant wish that was heard. The recipients of the wishes replied with the words “half yours” or “a thousand wishes to follow you”.

Everyone bent down was picking the grapes and the “kouvalitades” (carriers) were running among the vines, emptying the baskets. The most experienced of all chose the ripest grapes to be placed at the bottom of the sacks, to “get the grade good”. When the “gomari” (cargo) was ready, they loaded it for the first transfer to “Stafylodohos” (grape tanker). The vine-grower shouted to the mule driver, “Ta matia’s tessera, mi xasoumi to grado” (Be careful, not to lose grado). (One gomari was 133 kilos and 14 points.)

When receiving the grapes, the supervisor coordinated the whole process. Workers came and left carrying tools, rolling barrels for must, funnels and scales. The animals loaded with the precious fruit were crowded, forming a long queue. The whining started from the “agogiates” (mule drivers) who wanted to return to take the next “agoi” (ride).

When it was time, they unloaded the grapes and placed them on the scales. The weigher lifting and lowering the “weights” with quick movements weighed them and shouted loudly a name and pounds for the “grafia” (penman) to hear. Then, they emptied the grapes carefully so that the “katsoula” (the mature ones) would not scatter.

A worker would take grapes with a “fork” and put them in the “mastelo”, a wooden container to “step on” them. With quick movements, he melted the grapes, squeezed them well and put the must in the “tsoukos”, a utensil with a sieve in the middle like a strainer, stirred it and filled the “grado”.

The “gradarstis” would calculate the grado and shout the grade. If they did not agree on the grade, they repeated the process up to three times and got the average. All these data were recorded by the penman and he cut the receipt. The receipts were collected by each producer, in order to come to an agreement with the Cooperative later.

The grapes from the “stafylodohi” of each village were loaded on trucks for the Winery of the Union in Malagari. Likewise, the must from the tanks where it was gathered was placed in large barrels that were transported to the winery as soon as possible, so that the boiling would not start. The paths in the villages where the transport was made were cobbled and narrow, so only a single donkey could pass. Of course, priority was given to the loaded ones, so the mule drivers, entering the straits, shouted for the unloaded ones to step aside.

When the harvest ended, the calculations about whether the year went well began. Endless discussions in coffee shops and analyses on analyses. They took the receipts to the Cooperative to agree on the quantities and waiting for the advance payment, which was given around Christmas, was the “event” of the year.

Harvesting on Samos had its own social code of cooperation and was always a sharing, a “symposium” of teamwork. Harvesting was a “family affair” for every viticulturist and all members of the family participated in it, even young children who brought water to the workers to quench their thirst. Memories from previous decades indicate that all harvesters ate the “kafalti” (brunch) usually under a large tree at the first break of the day, (around 10:30 in the morning).
On the wooden “sofra” (wooden table), in a huge clay bowl, the housewife had made a tomato salad with boiled potatoes, plenty of oil, onions, peppers, salted fish and a large loaf of kneaded bread, which was cut by hand. The workers were sitting cross-legged, without their caps and “baildismenoi” (exhausted) by the must and sweat, asking for the pitcher with the cold water that had as a cap, a pine cone.

They shared lunch a few hours later as the harvest lasted until late in the afternoon. What prevailed, however, was laughter, teasing and songs. At night hands, feet, waist were hurting. When the fingers were cut with the “katsouni” they put a grape berry on the cut and if the blood did not stop, then they put “konizo” (hemostatic plant).

The distances between the village and the vineyards were long and crossing them on foot was a great feat. However, the people, accustomed to the difficulties, did not groan but faced them with a smile. You saw older women with children working patiently all day and at night loaded with their basket full of selected grapes for the house they walked tired on the rough paths of the mountain villages of Samos. But the next morning, at first light, they were at the harvest again.

The harvest of Samian Muscat wine continues to mark the dominant agricultural production activity of the island. According to the experiential testimonies of the winegrowers, the harvest was (and is) a multi-day summer “celebration” throughout the island. Perhaps the only elements that have changed in the harvest of the Samian Muscat are:

• The means of transport: From donkeys, we went to farm vehicles. The kofines and the kofes were partially replaced by the crates, but the cutting tool remains the “katsouni”.
• Instead of the “stafylodohi” where the grapes were received, now the produce is transferred from the producers to the facilities of the Wineries.

Samian winegrowers follow the tradition of their fathers and grandparents during harverst, an outdoor and manual work that begins in August and is completed by the end of September.

This is due to the geophysical terrain of Samos, as the vineyards start from the lowlands and reach up to 1,100 meters altitude in the Karvounis mountain range. The lot is small and the vineyards on the vine growers’ properties are fragmented. This makes the harvesting process a laborious (and costly) task.

According to the testimonies of vine-growers of Samos, the customs they maintained during the harvest period were mainly two:

“Mitzi” and “change”.

The winegrower who needed help for his viticultural work, stipulated that on the designated day he has “mitzi” (The word probably comes from a corruption of the Turkish word “mezzaane”= donation, favour). On this day, relatives, friends and some villagers gathered in the vineyard and worked without pay. The owner was buying wine and “tragimata pantoia” (any kind of fresh or dry fruit accompanying the wine).

The communities of the villages of Samos did the same thing every year on November 14 (name day of St. Philip) for widows with young children, who did not have anyone to help them in their viticultural work.

The “change” has been a ceremonial act of solidarity on Samos, which lasts to this day. The winegrower invites people to help him harvest his vineyard, which he will pay back, when asked by those who helped him.