Yesterday was slaughter day and what a day! In the morning M. Durand came over with a rifle to lend me to stun/kill the pig. In fact he had a choice of 2. A .22 rimfire rifle which I thought would do the job (most books recommend this) and also a 7mm with a magnum cartridge which would probably take its head off! I chose the .22
Then the rest of the morning was spent preparing. Ropes and pulleys, knives, bone saw, gas burner and bottle, hose pipe, meat hooks, plastic boxes, etc had be transported to the barn and set up.
Emily and Justin arrived at 1.30 and after carrying an old steel bath to the barn, filling it with hot water, setting the huge gas burner going beneath it and covering it with a lid, we had a quick lunch. The water has to be heated to 63 degrees to loosen the hairs on the pig and this needs to be done as soon as the pig is bled, we had to wait for the bath water to reach temperature. This took ages - until about 3.00pm. At this point it started to rain.
Next I had to kill one of the pigs - Barker the bigger of the two was easiest to separate and a small pile of food soon had him occupied. I shot him through the head and it was a instant, silent death - followed by the usual 'death throws'. (These are quite disturbing in animal of this size and seem to go on forever - but Emily said she was amazed how quick it was over compared to their previuos home kills). Quickly we had to transfer the pig to an inclined ladder lent against a wall with its head down, so I could stick it and collect the blood for black pudding. From being a moderate sized pig running around, now it was dead it seemed to suddenly grow to some vast hippopotamus. It was enormous and unbelievably heavy (in fact over 120kgs). We gaffer taped each pair of legs together at the trotters, so we could get a lifting pole between them, and some how managed to drag him onto the ladder. I stuck him. The blood ran for about 10 minutes and Emily collected it in a basin, all the while stirring and lifting out the strings. The testicles where also quickly removed to minimise any boar taint.
Next came the task of getting the hair off. To do this we had to lift him into the bath. After managing to winch his rear half off the floor, this suddenly seemed an impossibility (due to the pigs weight, size and sheer immovability). For a while we tried the method of basting him with the hot water poured from a jug and scraping - this might work for a relatively hairless pig but for a gascogne (which is more hairy than a gorilla) it was hopeless. Nothing for it, we had to get him in the bath. Some how we managed - the pig completely filled the bath and more. After about 4 mins the hair was coming off so we hauled him out the bath and began furiously scraping. Everything comes off (hair, mud and the outer layer of pigmented skin) and the pig is left pink(ish).
At this stage I suddenly became overcome by the enormity of the task. The pig is enormous, the scraping is filthy work and dreadfully slow, time stands still and it seems like you will never finish. The pig had to go back in the bath again, before we could get him 85% dehaired. The rain was absolutely torrential outside the barn ( I think the heaviest rain we've had here). The floor of the barn started to flood, outside was a quagmire. We'd been going three hours. It was getting dark, so I rigged up some lights with a chain of extension leads from the house. ( I had visions of the final scenes of Apocolypse Now). The hair on his front legs was stuck firm and there were still some difficult to get to parts to get the hair off. We decided that we should eviscerate (gut) him now and saw him in half, so he was more manageable to finish these areas and redip his front legs in the scalding water.
Off came his head and tail. Then after carefully gutting him, I sawed him into two, whilst Justin pulled the two halves apart. The evisceration would have been easier if we could have hung him upside down, but even without his head, he now stretched from floor to ceiling - so there wasn't enough room for the pulleys. Another hour of scraping, dipping, shaving and general clearing up of each of the two halves and we call it a night - it's past 7.30. Corbett will have to wait for another day. ( I give him a extra large feed and he doesn't seem to stressed, though I'm sure he'll pine for his lost companion).
We are exhausted, covered in mud, blood, hair, guts, etc, soaked from our brief journeys into the monsoon outside and starving. We retreat to the house, wash up and eat. Justin and Emily depart to feed their animals and I start the big clear up.
By 9.30 things are looking better, so I get to work on the offals - heart, lights, pancreas, liver and kidneys are removed, washed and put in the fridge. Then I have to separate the intestines, squeeze out all the contents, wash them thoroughly (running the tap through them), before turning them inside out and repeating the process, then putting them into brine to soak (these will be my sausage skins).
It's 12.30am and definitely time for bed. Tomorrow, I need to dispose of the organs I'm not using (stomach, spleen, bladder, etc) before dealing with the head and starting the butchering of the carcass.
After drinking a bit too much wine last night and waking late to a misty morning, I nearly didn't go walking today. Eventually I dragged myself out but didn't start walking until 11.15. The mist cleared, the sun shone and Girantes is only a short climb. Despite having to break in my new boots and stopping for lunch on the summit, I was up and back in under 3 hours. There's not a lot of snow about at the moment, though a little more is due tomorrow. From the summit I watched a sea of cloud rolling in from the west and this afternoon the temperature has dropped.
