Episode 5 Tales from the Wild Wood

Britain was once an island of trees.

For 10,000 years, they have shaped our landscapes.

And we were once a woodland people.

We managed our forests carefully, cutting and coppicing.

And they thrived under our care.

But forestry has changed.

In the last century, plantations have replaced many of our woods.

Others have been deemed unprofitable and abandoned.

Can they survive in the 21st century?

Writer and woodsman Rob Penn believes so.

Here we go.

And for the next year, he is taking over

part of Strawberry Cottage Wood,

50 acres of unmanaged woodland in South Wales.

Oh, my God! I feel like I'm going into the jungle!

Can he bring this forgotten forest back to life again?

Summer has arrived in Strawberry Cottage Wood.

After the hard work of winter, it's time for Rob to make some money.

Strawberry Wood charcoal!

But he needs to find a market for his woodland products.

-Rob.

-Johnny.

-Johnny. Lovely to meet you.

-Stephane.

-Stephane. Very good to meet you, as well.

He must make the most of every inch of his wood.

Mad as a bag of frogs, the lot of them.

And even brings in the family to help.

Oh, no! Oh, stop it!

Just how difficult is it to make a living from the woods?

It's June in South Wales.

Spring has turned into summer and our woodlands are in full bloom.

For the last nine months, Rob has been working

in a neglected wood in the Black Mountains.

He wants to use the ancient skills of the woodsman

to find a modern role for our woodlands.

And the arrival of warmer weather

brings new challenges to his work.

It's the beginning of summer and the trees are in full leaf.

The sap is up, the birds are all nesting.

And that means you can't work on the living trees at this time of year.

But the warmer weather and the longer days

are traditionally the time

when you try and turn the industry of winter to some good profit.

Over the next month, Rob needs to make his woodland pay.

His winter coppicing has cost a lot in time and fuel.

Can he find new markets for his timber to balance the books?

This wood is just a fraction of the hazel

I coppiced at the beginning of winter,

and it's been sitting here seasoning for six months.

100 years ago, it would have been an important part

of an industry which was fundamental,

not just to this area, but to the whole of Britain.

Charcoal making.

Charcoal was the driving force of the early Industrial Revolution.

Millions of tonnes went to the factories and mills

of 18th-century Britain.

The arrival of coal and oil led to the decline of industrial charcoal.

But in the last 20 years,

the popularity of barbecuing

and the enormous growth of Middle Eastern grill restaurants

has led to a revival of the charcoal industry.

Could our woods play a part in this growing market?

Hi. Mark, it's Rob Penn here.

I am just following up on the email that I sent to you...

The charcoal industry is dominated by a handful of companies

spread throughout the country.

Could they give Rob advice

about starting his own charcoal production?

If you can call me back, please, my mobile's on the email.

Thanks very much. 'Bye.

The British charcoal industry is really very small.

And until recently, it was unregulated.

It seemed that you could import charcoal from anywhere in the world.

And in the last couple of weeks,

I've been trying to contact the major players in the industry.

And, well, it seems that no-one

wants to talk to me on camera.

What Rob's conversations have revealed

is that few of the large companies use British charcoal.

Almost everybody imports it from the tropics.

OK, we're ready.

Slowly down towards me a bit.

To explore whether he can make a competitive product,

Rob has called in Pete and Anna Grugeon.

They are some of the last remaining charcoal makers still active in the country.

The process is basically the same as it always used to be,

except that we now do it in this big steel drum.

And this used to be made up of turf instead, which would fall apart

and it needed much more attention through the night.

But other than that, it's basically the same process.

And let go. Cool.

To compete with imported charcoal,

Rob needs to produce a product of exceptionally high quality.

This means getting to grips with the ancient science of the charcoaler.

The charcoal is almost pure carbon.

And it's produced by taking wood,

extracting the steam under heat.

Wood is majorly water. It's got a large water content.

And so we lose that water content

and then we evaporate off all the volatiles and carbonise the wood.

It's a process that happens at about 600 degrees centigrade

and you end up with pure carbon.

A charcoal kiln acts like a large oven.

By controlling the flow of air in at the base,

you can ensure that the bottom wood burns,

heating the kiln without damaging the wood above it.

If Rob lets too much air in,

the whole thing goes up in smoke.

Too little and the fire will go out.

It's an art, and a science.

An awful lot of work has gone into

putting this pile of hazel on the floor.

And on one level, it's incredibly exciting

to see it going into production,

but, of course, there is an inherent risk in this.

You get the burn wrong

and you're left with...nothing.

A full kiln could produce over 100 kilograms of charcoal.

IF Rob gets it right.

It's alight.

Fire! In the woods.

Just keep doing it until you can't push it any further, but just gently.

This is the free burn, so you just allow the fire to get going,

don't control the air. You want the air to circulate through it.

And when it's roaring, getting to full tilt,

that's when we start closing it down?

-Yeah.

-Regulating the fire?

-Yeah.

Go on, buddy, burn!

The airflow in the kiln is controlled by six chimneys and intake pipes.

These can be blocked off to reduce the amount of oxygen

and prevent the kiln from getting too hot.

We've begun an ancient process of making charcoal.

And all that hard work in the winter

is hopefully now going to be put to a product,

a domestic product that we can sell. Very exciting!

OK. So we're just lifting the lid.

So we're now filling in around the base of the kiln with soil and sand

to restrict the airflow to the fire.

That means that you can regulate the burn,

which ensures that you get charcoal out of the process

and not a pile of ash.

-OK. So the kiln's all sealed up now.

-Great.

It's going to burn through the night like this

and we'll be back in the morning to help you close down.

So the kiln's been shut down,

and hopefully, it'll be ready in 16 hours.

But in eight hours, halfway through the burn,

I have to turn the chimneys over.

So it's another night camping in the woods for me.

Of course, that's very much in the tradition of the charcoal burners.

They would have lived in the woods all summer long.

Charcoalers lived on the fringes of society.

They retreated to the woods during the summer.

Even then, their daily routine was determined by the rhythm of the kiln.

Good boy.

So there are three chimneys.

Those are the outlets and there are three inlets

and I'm going to switch them over, each one.

We're doing this to make sure that the burn is even

throughout the entire kiln.

So it looks like it's all going along fine.

And I'm just going to hope that it continues like this

until Pete and Anna get back here at dawn.

BIRDSONG

It's 7.00am

and the kiln has been puffing away gently for 16 hours now,

and I've just got up.

And it's fairly obvious that there are now some changes happening.

So the smoke here has begun to go clear.

You can see my hand through it.

And the same on the pipe over here.

And what this means is that we're very nearly ready,

or perhaps even ready to shut this baby down.

So I'm just waiting for Pete and Anna to show up

to show me how to do it.

The changing colour of smoke is a key sign for charcoal makers.

White smoke indicates steam and impurities being burned off.

But when the smoke starts to clear,

it means the charcoal itself is beginning to burn.

Pete, Anna, morning.

Hi, Rob. Morning. Sleep well?

Yeah, not bad, thanks, not bad. How are we looking?

Yeah. It looks like we've arrived in the nick of time.

You can see the smoke's changed.

-It's become really clear.

-Yes.

-The steam's not in there any more.

-OK.

-And the kiln's ready to close down.

-Fantastic.

So first of all, we remove the chimneys.

-OK.

-And block up the chimneys.

-Yeah.

-And then block the inlets.

Just block them up with mud, close off all the oxygen

-and then we leave it to cool.

-Brilliant.

Rob must work quickly to kill the fire.

Even a few extra minutes could render much of the charcoal useless.

I think Pete and Anna arrived just in time.

It might have been rather unfortunate.

I could have ended up with a large pile of ash.

That's all sealed up now, so we've just got to wait for it to cool down,

then we'll look inside and see what we've got in the way of charcoal.

With temperatures in the kiln having reached 600 degrees,

it takes a full day for the wood to cool.

Waiting for the charcoal to cool is,

well, it's a bit like waiting for an overdue baby

in as much as the wait has only served to heighten my anxiety.

There could be nothing but a pile of ash in there.

And if that's all there is,

then it's been a long, hard journey for naught.

But of course, there might also be a huge pile of charcoal.

Something that we can sell.

And that is very exciting.

OK, Rob, let's get a hold of it and pull it off.

It seems we have charcoal.

Wahey!

We have charcoal!

Oh, man! Great!

Charcoal!

It's rather beautiful in its texture, as well, isn't it?

-Yeah, it is.

-And the charcoal's really good quality.

The charcoal is good. It doesn't look too over-charred.

-It's quite dense. You've definitely got a future as a charcoal maker.

-You reckon?

-I reckon.

-All right!

THEY LAUGH

Oh, that's great! I'm so pleased!

For the next three hours, Rob sorts through the charcoal,

separating big logs from chips and dust.

The first bag of charcoal.

After all that hard work, this is a deeply satisfying moment.

By the end of the unloading, Rob has 150 kilograms of charcoal,

with a street value of almost £250.

Perhaps the most satisfying aspect of this whole process

is the sense of vindication.

Vindication against all the naysayers.

People who said you can't make quality British charcoal.

Well, there it is.

And now, the most important thing is going to be to find the market.

It's hard enough making British charcoal,

but selling it could be even more of an uphill battle.

To seek advice, Rob heads to London

to meet one of the country's leading charcoal experts.

How has the charcoal market changed?

Pooran Desai started BioRegional Charcoal in 1995.

What began as a network of small producers has grown to supply

some of Britain's largest stores.

But Pooran has been fighting an industry

that has turned its back on local producers.

The UK market for charcoal is mainly imported charcoal.

So we import about 50-60,000 tonnes a year.

And really, that's well over 95%.

We import charcoal from three main regions in the world.

-Southeast Asia, Africa and South America.

-OK.

And an amount of that,

an increasing amount, is coming from sustainable sources,

particularly if you look for things like the Forest Stewardship Council label.

But a lot of it isn't produced sustainably.

And a lot of it will be illegal.

Nobody really knows how much of our charcoal comes from illegal logging.

But a lack of regulation has meant that tropical hardwoods

and mangroves still provide a significant amount

of the import trade.

Cheap labour ensures it can be sold at an attractive price.

This has come at a huge cost not just for the UK industry,

but for the environments where it is harvested.

Actually, UK charcoal is some of the best charcoal in the world and

for particular uses like barbecues, actually it is the best charcoal.

It lights very easily, you don't need firelighters

so the quality of the burn you get is fantastic.

You burn with it in a slightly different way, you cook with it,

but, for example, the UK's barbecue champion

says it's the best charcoal he's ever used.

Which is lovely to hear, isn't it?

-Yeah, and celebrity chefs are promoting it.

-Yeah.

But I suspect that actually we produce no more than 2% or 3%

of the charcoal in the UK.

You know, the reason is it's more expensive to produce.

The big retailers are very sensitive on price, customers less so,

but, for those sorts of reasons, we import most of our charcoal.

I suppose the most extraordinary thing

I learnt from Pooran was the amount of charcoal we import

when really it can be made from wood which is here and there.

But it's very difficult to get people in a recession

to pay for a premium product.

British charcoal is expensive

compared to that from tropical forests,

and Rob must find a buyer to break even.

His first port of call is one Britain's finest,

and busiest gastropubs.

I think they must be out the back. OK.

Johnny Mignon and Stephane Pasquier have brought Gallic flair to

the Perch Pub on the outskirts of Oxford.

Alongside a bustling restaurant, they have started an upmarket BBQ

that attracts hundreds of people every weekend.

Rob has brought ten bags of his charcoal as a sample.

-Gentlemen.

-Hello.

-Good morning.

-Good morning.

-Good morning.

-I'm Rob.

-I'm Johnny.

-Johnny, lovely to meet you.

-I'm Stephane.

-Lovely to meet you.

-Very nice to meet you.

So, I have some charcoal which I made

in my wood in the Black Mountains in South Wales.

-Wonderful.

-And I'm hoping it might be restaurant quality

and that you might be able to have a go with it.

We've got a very busy day today, but we'll give it a go.

-OK. Thanks.

-Thank you.

So what are you looking for?

Big chunks. So important to me because, see, that's an example.

-Those pieces would take a long time to hold all the heat.

-Right.

Small pieces are not very good at all because they burn too quickly.

It looks like it would be the perfect charcoal for myself.

-Really?

-To be honest, yes.

We should get it on the barbecue then, shouldn't we?

-Let's do it, let's try it.

-Great.

-So let's put it on.

-OK.

And then it would take about 30 minutes to 40 minutes

-to get these perfect state, you know.

-Brilliant.

-It's just a question of being patient now, I think.

-Fantastic.

Well, I hadn't expected such a warm welcome at The Perch

but I certainly hadn't expected that my charcoal would be

put on the front line so quickly and I'm now rather anxious that

it's got to cook 100 burgers,

and I hope it brings something to the party.

What happens at the Perch is happening all over Britain.

We are a nation falling in love with barbecue food.

If local pubs can buy their charcoal from local woodlands,

could this be a foundation for a local charcoal industry?

Using English charcoal to be self-sufficient is fantastic

and the flavour, you will just taste it.

Do you really think that it makes a difference to the taste?

Huge. Hugely, even to the way that the meat cooks.

-Yeah.

-It cooks it in a slightly different way.

Does that make it

a high-end product, does that make it difficult to price it?

Our barbecues are a bit more expensive than other places,

I mean, a couple of pounds extra,

but I think at first it may be a bit like "Oh, it's too expensive"

but when you explain all the causes that we make behind

to get our charcoal locally sourced, to get our wood

is supporting local produce,

local independent business, they know that it's worth the money.

Johnny's predictions seem accurate.

There's a roaring trade for burgers

and Rob's charcoal seems to be holding its own.

So, how's the charcoal, any good?

-Fantastic.

-Really?

-Really, really high quality.

I've been very busy, I was in the kitchen all service

but I have feedback from my barbecue chef

and he say that it was very, very good.

Customers loved the barbecue.

They do talk about the taste, it was amazing

and, you know, seeing you around today

I hope it will bring more awareness to people

that we need to support England and English products.

Fantastic. Will you take some more?

-Of course!

-Really?

-Bring it all.

Yes, bring it all. Have you got more in your car?

-Yeah.

-We'll take it.

-Oh, great. Great.

Stephane and Johnny take all of Rob's charcoal, offering £4 a bag.

It's a massive boost for the project and there is now a revenue

that can keep the wood paying throughout the summer.

And Rob can set to on the rest of the woodland.

Summer is a time for growth, but brambles crowd the forest floor

and must be cut back to allow the seeds below to germinate.

The last time I did something like this I think

I was probably a kid, and I was doing it for good money.

It's like going into a jungle in Indonesia.

As the weeks pass, the woodland takes on new shapes and colours.

Once again, Rob is immersed in life under the canopy.

One of my favourite things about coming to the woods

is the sense of escapism and I can never be sure

if that is a matter of escaping from modern life,

from the pressures of work and parenthood

and all the other white noise of existence,

or whether it's something more profound.

Whether that escapism touches a dormant memory of childhood,

when coming to the woods meant escaping from

the all-searching eye of adulthood.

By July, the schools have broken up

and Rob can introduce his own children to Strawberry Cottage Wood.

THEY ALL LAUGH

Oh, no, oh, stop it.

As a child, I placed value without thinking about it then,

but I placed value on being in the woods for all sorts of reasons,

you know, they were joyful places.

But there were also, in the darkness of a large wood,

there was an intimidating quality,

which was somehow attractive to a small child.

They were places where you could express yourself without comeback

and they were places where you got wild, you know,

they had a sense of wildness about them

and it would turn kids into wild hooligans.

THEY SHOUT AND CHEER

And those are qualities which I inevitably feel

I should pass on to my kids.

Trees are a key to our quality of life.

You only have to walk ten yards into a woodland to sense that

there is a different spirit in the air.

But our woodlands are always going to struggle if we value them

only in terms of what we can materially take out,

which begs the question, is there another way to value them?

Can we value them purely in terms of their just being there,

their existential value?

For eight months, woodsmen, coppicers

and horse loggers have been in and out of Rob's wood.

People who see timber as a resource, to be extracted and processed.

But for millions of people,

our woodlands are simply a space to be enjoyed.

These guys are the 9.8 Cartel,

an underground mountain biking group from South Wales.

I've invited them here because, if you want to get people

into the woods to use them,

recreational users, young recreational users,

then, for me, the first port of call is mountain bikers.

Mountain biking is one of Britain's fastest growing sports.

It's bringing a new generation of people into the woods.

Young people who want to manage them,

albeit not for the timber they contain.

The club came about, just a group of friends looking to ride together.

9.8 metres per second squared is the speed of gravity.

A lot of people may get the idea that mountain bikes will

come into the woodland to destroy the place, you know,

chop down trees and all this sort of stuff,

that's not what we do at all. The more natural the track is,

is what a mountain biker would want to see.

We may use, you know, fallen branches and stuff to prop up ramps

but we just use the dirt and we just use the natural terrain.

Mountain bikers look at our woods in a different way.

Not just as a store of timber, but as a place where trees,

roots and ditches become part of a giant living playground.

You can make so much from a woodland,

you can make your jumps, switch backs, berms, tabletops,

and then all you've got to do with a woodland like this

is just look up there, imagine where you'd like to ride,

put a shovel in the ground, and make something.

So woodlands, for us, are just key to our sport.

After only an afternoon of digging, a track has been built

and a business proposition is on the table.

I think there's real potential here for maybe two or three tracks.

It's the right sort of length, it's ideal.

And you could charge people to come and use it, do you reckon?

Yeah, definitely, yeah. It's getting more and more popular in Wales.

Typically, a couple of Land Rovers and a trailer,

you could charge up to £25 a head.

People are out there doing that already?

It's getting more and more popular in Wales.

There's quite a few farmers I know who do it

and people are prepared to travel.

We travel to North Wales when we hear there's a new one up there, so

if you did that thing here you could get people travelling from all over.

THEY CHATTER EXCITEDLY

Give it leather, lads.

Mad as a bag of frogs, the lot of them.

So there's two things I love about this

one, it's very low impact and it's organic.

As soon as these boys stop riding this track it's gone.

And then the other great thing is,

they'll pay to come and do this, which means that there's

a viable income stream for the wood without having to fell the trees.

Awesome, love it, love it, love it.

It's good, man. It's good effort.

Next time at Strawberry Cottage Wood,

Rob has an end-of-year assessment from a conservationist.

We can really see the difference,

we can see the top of the slope now.

He gets the timber back from his old ash tree.

They are exquisitely beautiful.

And he sees what his woodland could look like in years to come.

-It feels alive and vital again, doesn't it?

-It certainly does.

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