Walking around Richard Moriarty’s Back Bay property, it’s easy to forget you’re in Newport Beach.  The three-and-a-half acres of land perched between a golf course and an equestrian path sit directly above the mud flats and salt marshes of the bay amid multi-million dollar properties.  And yet, it has the relaxed, almost rural feel of a gentleman farmer’s estate, where ponds are stocked with koi and bass swim languidly.  The lushness of the property is evidence of the owner’s botanical prowess-a block away he grows rare orchids and tropical plants at his nursery, while here species of palms flourish everywhere.  Amid the greenery sits a chicken coop where exotic varieties of birds cluck and peck and lay rainbow-colored eggs.  The rural reverie is disturbed by a plane taking off from John Wayne airport, a reminder that his property is just a few blocks from civilization, even though it feels a world away.

It’s here that Moriarty has embarked on a seemingly quixotic quest to produce high quality wine in Orange County.  “At first people think I’m crazy,” Moriarty says.  “you can’t grow grapes in Newport,’ they say.  The truth is, you can’t stop ‘em from growing.”  The proof is on the vine.  Plants that had just budded in late April (when the above photograph was taken) had grown 2-3 feet by mid-May, with clusters of tiny fruit already appearing.

Moriarty has 700 vines planted on one acre, divided between cabernet sauvignon, merlot, cabernet franc, petit verdot, and malbec, the five classic Bordeaux varietals.  Southern California’s climate is called Mediterranean for a reason; Moriarty says his vineyard has the same elements of soil and climate, the same warm days and cool nights that produce the great wines of Bordeaux, Napa, and other storied wine-making regions throughout the world.

Originally Moriarty had planned to just grow the grapes and sell them to wine producers elsewhere.  Even though it’s zoned residential, neighbors objected to the idea of trucks pulling onto the property to take the grapes to wineries, another reminder he is indeed in Newport Beach.  Undeterred, Moriarty decided if he couldn’t take his grapes to the winery, he’d bring the winery to his grapes and established the Newport Beach Vineyards and Winery.

Though some may think Moriarty’s endeavor odd, he has clear historical precedent in his agricultural quest, precedent both familial and geographic.  Orange County was a vast vineyard long before orange trees grew.  In 1887, German immigrants bought 1,165 acres near the Santa Ana River in present-day Anaheim and established the Los Angeles Vineyard Society.  Within 10 years the communal colony had 47 wineries-though soon disease wiped out the crops, which were replaced with citrus trees.

Around the turn of the 20^th century Moriarty’s great grandfather Charles John Segerstrom saw that the fertile land around Greenville, near Santa Ana, was perfect for farming.  He leased and bought land, and then more, until by the 1950s the Segerstrom family had 2,000 acres, and went on to develop South Coast Plaza and the cultural and commercial centers around it.  As an heir to that legacy Moriarty’s green thumb comes with the genes. 

His first foray into winemaking was in high school when he took some pomegranate juice, put it

in a jar, added a few drops of wine and it fermented. “It wasn’t very good,” he says. “But it did the trick.” 

After college he made leather goods in Europe, pretending to be Italian as he sold them to tourists in Rome.

 Later, he opened his own leather shop in Costa Mesa, but found that plants and terrariums sold better.

 He developed the business into Instant Jungle, a landscaping company he later sold.  In the 1980s he gained a reputation for throwing outrageous bashes that Moriarty says “got me banned from every hotel ballroom in Orange County-and the Spruce Goose in Long Beach.”

A 1974 Porsche Carerra Targa and Lamborghini Countach-licence plates LTSPRTE (“Let’s party”) and

FAAST-are reminders of their owner’s former hot lifestyle. Today the cars cool off in a large room at

the winery kept at 60-degrees for wine storage, while Moriarty usually tools around town in a

camouflage-painted Isuza Trooper.

Though has mellowed, his passion for wine still burns. “I love plants, and I love wine,” he says.  “It’s fun. 

It’s hard work too, but it’s more interesting than growing lima beans.”