The barrels we see in the workhouse came from the Port Wine cellars in São João da Pesqueira. Many of them are marked with a white ‘O’ because the staves (wooden slats) that make them up have problems. Coopers usually walk through the cellar corridors, equipped with a torch, a knife and tracing paper, inspecting the batches, ‘to stop the barrels’. Pieces that cannot be repaired on site are marked and taken to the workshop where the hoops are removed with a mallet, and the staves are examined one by one.

‘The cooper's job is to test the barrel and check for any problems; we open the barrel and check each stave, replacing the damaged ones. Some problems can be detected from the outside, others only from the inside; sometimes they are more damaged than we thought,’ explains Manuel.

This experienced cooper says that ‘wine also gets angry’, referring to its fermentation, which causes it to expand inside the barrel, putting it under pressure and ‘causing it to give way in the areas where it is most fragile’. It is in these situations that Manuel springs into action to provide a kind of first aid for the barrels, where ‘all he needs is a knife and a piece of greaseproof paper to “save” the wine.’

Although there have been developments in some of the tools and machinery used (‘if the new ones worked with the old tools, they would give up,’ Manuel assures us), cooperage remains essentially a craft. It is a profession that requires sensitivity, time and patience. Take Ricardo Jesus, 28, Manuel's son, who started working in this sector at the age of 19 and is one of the youngest coopers in the country. His father, he says, was his ‘main teacher’. "The art of cooperage is not like other arts; you don't learn [everything] in two or three years. It takes longer. Because the basis of everything is the eye; there is no tape measure. We don't want a tape measure – only if we're working with large vats. Small things are all done by eye, which is why it's much more difficult."

Ricardo recalls that, ‘at 14, this wasn't what I wanted at all.’ "I saw my grandfather and my father at home; sometimes I would accompany them to work on Saturdays. I was studying; I got into refereeing, but then I wanted to stop and the opportunity arose to come here to assemble and disassemble [barrels]. Then I started to enjoy it. And, over time, I became more interested – in Port wine, too," he says.

The young man regrets that his profession remains unknown and is therefore delighted with the report in Agenda Porto. "It's very rare for people to know what a cooper is, nor does it arouse much interest. But opening a bottle of Port wine does spark interest! So, whenever I can, I let people know what I do, what my work consists of, and I also take people to the Port wine cellars and the Douro.”

Ricardo still sees himself as an apprentice cooper and says that what he likes most is being able to ‘work with wood’. He also finds it ‘fascinating to open the barrels and smell the Port wine, which is over 100 years old’.

He says he learned that it takes between 30 and 35 staves to make a barrel, because when he takes them apart, he marks them all. ‘It's still a little difficult for me if the staves come loose and the barrel falls apart; if they are marked, I know how to put them back together, like a jigsaw puzzle.’