Black Tot Last Consignment British Royal Navy Rum 750ml

Manufacturer's Notes:

I: Up Spirits!

     You hold in your hands liquid history, a rum from the last remaining stocks of British Royal Navy Rum. When black Tot dawned, the Navy had little use for its remaining rum stocks. These were filled into wicker-covered stone flagons and stores in bonded warehouses and only broached for use on State occasions and Royal weddings... until now that is.
     In its rich complex depths swirl tales of privateers and admirals, coopers, soft-hearted mutineers and politicians. Let's splice the mainbrace together, sit back and let history reveal itself.

II: 'The Pleasantest Part of the Day'

"After punishment, the Bo'Sun's mate pipes to dinner, it being eight bells or twelve o'clock... This is the pleasantest part of the day as at one bell the piper is called to play 'Nancy Dawson' or some other lively tune, a well known sign that the grog is ready to be served out... every man and boy is allowed a pint, that is one gill of rum and three of water to which is added lemon acid sweetened with sugar." Memoirs of an English Seaman, 'Jack Nastyface' (William Robinson) -- 1836

     This is one of the few bright passages in Robinson's account of the brutality and misery of life in the Navy in the time of Nelson and, as you can see, the issuing of the daily tot was accompanied by considerable flummery. Part of this was simply, one feels, an inevittability. After all, any daily task on board a ship seems to acquire a ritualistic quality.
     Though the modern Navy for whom the rum you are sipping was blended bears little resemblance to that of 'Nastyface's' memoirs, the ritual of the daily tot remained.
     It started each day with the Stores Assistant, known on board as 'Jack Dusty', calculating how much rum was to be issued that day. At six bells [11am] the start of the ritual proper commenced with the cry of "Up Spirits!", to which the crew would respond under their breath "Stand fast the Holy Ghost.' 
     Jack Dusty, his assistant "Tanky", the Officer of the day and the Petty Officer of the day then assembled by the spirit room where they would pump the neat rum required for that day's ration into the barricoe ['breaker'] which was then padlocked and carried to where the grog tub, with the legend 'The Queen God Bless Her' running around it, was installed.
     At 11.50, the rum bosuns for each of the ship's messes assembled around the grog tub with their rum 'fannies' [mess tins]. Jack Dusty would then call out the amount of rum in the barricoe and double this volume of water was then poured into the tub, having first been checked for purity by the Officer of the day.
     As eight was sounded, the rum was poured from the barricoe into the tub, stirred and dispensed to each of the rum bosuns, who would in turn serve to their respective messed. If there was any rum ('plushers') left it was poured over the side.
     Delighted though this ritual is, you do not need to follow it to enjoy your Black Tot. Simply take a glass and pour yourself one. Now, relax and sip slowly as we discover how this ritual started and why, even, it involved rum in the first place.

III: 'But Why the Rum?'

     Our story starts in the Caribbean in the mid-17th century, a period when the great European powers were starting to establish their sugar empires and tussling over territory. In 1654, Oliver Cromwell sent a fleet commanded by Vice-Admiral William Penn to safeguard British interests and also acquire new holdings... by force. Though repulsed from Santo-Domingo, they successfully captured Jamaica in 1655.
     Among Penn's sailors was one Henry Morgan, who would later become Lieutenant-Governor of Jamaica and give his name, 9albeit 400 years later), to a rum. Between Morgan serving under Penn and his elevation to respectability he, like many of his fellow sailors, had become a privateer.
     The small Naval fleet could not patrol the whole of the Caribbean, break Spanish dominance, guard British merchant ships and protect the new colonies, so ocean-going mercenaries were hired under 'letters of marque'. Every country did this and much of the fighting and plundering which took place across the Caribbean was done by these corsairs, buccaneers, privateers... or plain old pirates.
     They lived by a system of barter, partly funded by the booty they were allowed to keep, though by the middle of the 17th century a new, liquid currency was becoming more widely used. It was known as Kill-Devil, an appropriate enough name for a fiery liquid made from the waste product of the sugar-making process.
     In the words of an anonymous writer in Jamaica in 1651: "The Chief fudling they make on the island is Rumbullion, alias Kill-Devil and this is made of sugar-cane distilled; a hot hellish and terrible liquor."
     And, as this, the first-ever account of rum-making shows, it was not thought worthy of general consumption.
     "As for distilling the skimmings [AKA molasses] run down to the Stillhouse... After it has remained in the cisterns.. til it becomes a little sour (for then the spirits shall not rise in the still) the first spirit that comes off is a small liquor which we call Low-Wines, which liquor we put into the still and draw it off again; and of that comes so strong a spirit, as a candle being brought to a near distance, to the bung of Hogshead. [That] The spirits will file to it, and taking hold of it, bring the fire down into the vessell and set all afire...
     "This drink... has many the vertue to cure many; for when they [slaves] are ill, with taking cold... the Apothecary of the Plantation... gives to every one a dram cup of this spirit and that is the perfect cure.
     "... It is infinitely strong but not very pleasany in taste; it is common and therefore the less esteemed... the people drink much of it, indeed too much; for it often layes them on the ground and that is accounted a very unwholesome lodging." Richard Ligon, 'A True and Exact History of Barbadoes' -- 1647

The privateers and the sailors in the Navy didn't mind. This new spirit, this kill-devil, this rumbullion may have been rough to taste but it had many functions on board, it emboldened spirits, it acted as a medicine, it seemed to take away tiredness... and it was the only liquid to drink.
     The fleet would have left Britain with water and beer on board, but the latter soon went sour (even after the men had drunk their gallon a day ration) and the water turned to slime. While water could be replenished when the ship found harbour, there were precious few breweries in the Caribbean islands and while some fleets carried wine or brandy with them, there was no chance of restocking with either of those. By default, rum was the sole spirit available to the Caribbean fleet and it was consumed on every ship with gusto.

IV: 'That Dagon, Drunkeness'

     Drinking drams of neat, strong rum soon became an accepted part of the sailor's daily routine. It may not have been part of the official ration, but in the Wesr Indied station it was considered their right. By 1727, Captain Gascoigne of The Greyhound stationed in Jamaica was writing to the Navy Board that the best way to encourage his crew to get their backs into a task might be: "A double allowance of rum being joined to what extra pay may be thought proper to give them."
     This payment in rum for disagreeable tasks would continue for many years.
     In 1731 the serving of rum as an alternative to the daily allocation of beer or other drinks was enshrined in Regulations: 
     "It is to be observed that a pint of wine, half a pint of brandy, rum or arrack, hold provision to a gallon of beer."
     When you consider that, on top of half a pint of neat rum a day, soldiers and sailors could buy more rum on-shore free of duty you can guess not only the levels of drunkeness, but how much was being consumed.
     The major issue facing the Naval commanders in the West Indies was discipline. This was not the professional Navy we know today. The days of piracy may have gone, but many of the sailors in the Caribbean fleet were ex-privateers, as well as soldiers of fortune escaping from Britain, plus others who had been press-ganged into service. It would also seem that they were drunk most of the time, consuming their daily half-pint in drams taken in one gulp, smuggling extra rations on board, carousing in port.
     This was the situation which faced Vice-Admiral Edward Vernon when he took command of the West Indies station in 1739. On August 21, 1740 he attacked the problem head-on with the following General Order to the Caribbean fleet: "...The pernicious custom of the seamen drinking their allowance at once, is attended with many fatal effects to their morals as well as their health..."
     His solution was to: "...Take care that rum be no more served in specie to any of the ship's company under your command, but that the respective daily allowance of half a pint for a man for all your officers and ship's company be every day mixed with their proportion of a quart of water to every half pint of rum, to be mixed in a scuttled butt kept for that purpose and to be done upon deck, and in the presence of the Lieutenant of the Watch... in two servings a day, the one between the hours of 10 and 12 in the morning and the other between 4 and 6 in the afternoon."
     The daily rum ration had arrived. There was also good reason for having the rum in a scuttled butt on deck in those days. Control. It meant that the sailors couldn't drink too much, nor would the cooks, out of sight below, be able to swindle them out of their right. 
     In the same order, Vernon also recommended that the new twice-daily rum ration be augmented with fresh lime juice and sugar, "to make it more palatable to [the crews]."
     He became the sailor's friend. As an unknown crew member of HMS Berwick wrote:

                    A mighty bowl of deck he drew
                    And filled it to the brink
                    Such drank the Burford's gallant crew
                    And such the Gods Shall drink;
                    The sacred robe which Vernon wore
                    Was drenched within the same;
                    And hence its virtues guard our shore
                    And grog derives its name

The 'sacred robe' was Vernon's waterproofed cloak which was made from a gum-stiffened mix of silk, mohair and woll known as grogham. This not only gave him his nickname 'Old Grogham', but, as our poet says, the root of 'grog'.
     Although it took 16 years for Vernon's unilateral decision to be applied to the entire British fleet, by 1756 every serving sailor was being given two tots of rum daily. Vernon didn't issue his order for glory or popularity, but to control discipline and that, too, appeared to succeed. In 1742, he records: "My last order for the 21st of August for driving that Dagon, Drunkeness out of the feet has I thank God... had a very good effect..." (Dagon, by the way, was a Philistine fish-god)
     Interestingly, Vernon's suggestion that sugar and limes be added to the rum and water, meant that effectively the sailors in the British Navy were drinking a form of Daiguiri twice a day! Rum with lime or other citrus juice, sugar and maybe fruit juice was by that time the most common way that the Caribbean plantocracy drank their rum: the Planter's Punch of the English islands, the ti punch of the French Antilles.
     The Vice-Admiral of course was not setting up a bar on board, but using lime juice as an anti-scorutic. Scurvy, which we now know is a deficiency of Vitamin C, was rampant in the Navy at the time and there was ashift in medicinal opinion at the time away from the vitriol [diluted sulphuroc acid] which was being used as a cure, to the administering of citrus juice.
     In using a mix of alcohol and curative ingredients Vernon was following a long line of drinks which started life as medicines: gin started life as a remedy against the Black Death, Chartreuse was first an elixer. Although the Admirality believed the vitriol was the answer, Vernon was once again following his own instinct... and that of Admiral Sir James Hawkins who over 120 years previously had written: "That which I have seene most fruitfull for this sicknesse is sower oranges and lemmons."
     Although the addition of lime juice did alleviate the problems of scurvy in the West Indies, the sailors thought it was the rum that cured them! No surprise, then, that the rum ration was so important to them. So inextricably bound up in a sailor's life had it become that in 1789 when Captain Bligh was set adrift by the mutineers on 'The Bounty' he was given three gallons ofrum which doled out at one teaspoon a day to his crew on his epic sail across the Pacific. Even mutineers couldn't be heartless anough to see fellow sailors do without their grog!

V: Man On Board

     By the start of the 18th century, rum had ceased to be the 'hott and hellish' liquor of the previous century and a degree of quality control was beginning to be excersised. Distilling was taking on the trappings of an industry and the Navy was a major customer, buying both for drinking purposes and as a bartering tool for goods.
     It is an oft-overlooked fact that much of the Caribbean rum industry's early growth was as a result of the Navy's increasing requirements. Not only did volume increase, but it could be argued, so did quality.
     By the mid-18th century, rum had begun to acquire a certain respectability in Britain, once again partly as a result of the Navy. Returning sailors demanded it, as did the middle classes keen to adopt a fashion from the exotic Caribbean and mirror the wealthy sugar barons by drinking rum punches.
     Rum which had started life as the waste product only fit for slaves... and sailors... was suddenly profitable. As a result, quality was improving with estates across the Caribbean taking greater care over distilling. By now, islands had begun to develop different styles -- something which would stand the Navy rum blenders in good stead over the next two centuries.
     Rum's general improvement was noted by the Naval surgeon Sir Gilbert Blane, (an important advocate of the use of citrus juice as an anti-scorbutic) who, writing at the turn of the 18th century said: "It is with reason that the new rum is accused of being more wholesome than what is old; for being long kept, it not only becomes weaker and more mellow by part of the spirit exhaling, but time is allowed for the evaporation of a certain empyrematic principle which comes over in the distillation... Therefore though this is the produce of the West India Islands, yet what is supplied there is inferior to that which is brought from England."
     Blane was articulating what was becoming obvious to wine and spirit merchants of the time, that a spirit which was aggressive and burnt [the meaning of 'empyrematic'] when consumed straight off the still was improved immeasurably after it had spent time in cask on the Atlantic swell. If the science of maturation was not fully understood, it was clear to anyone that time and ageing in wood had a positive effect on colour, aroma and flavour. Even a well-made pot still rum from today will be heavy and pungent when new compared to what it will become after a few years of cask ageing.
     Britain's growing sugar empire meant that rum was also becoming an important trading commodity and increasing volumes were beginning to be imported from London. Merchants could also draw from a wider selection. What had started as a trade exclusive to Jamaica and Barbados now included rums from Demerara [now Guyana], Trinidad and other islands.
     As a result of this wider choice, the makeup of the Naval rum began to change. In Vernon's day, ships would simply have bought from whatever plantation they fancied. Now that the whole fleet had to be supplied, purchasing was centralised at the Admirality in London. Given this, having a sole preferred supplier made sense. Mr. James Man of Deptford now enters our tale.
     Man was a cooper who had his business at 23 Harp Lane [close to where Sugar Quay now stands] around the corner from the Navy Office in Seething Lane. He had started up on his own in 1783 making barrels for the sugar trade and a year later was appointed the Navy's sole preferred rum supplier a position his firm, later renamed ED & F Man, would hold until Black Tot Day by which time the firm had become one of the world's leading brokers in Caribbean commodities -- is also supplied most of the lime juice to Rose's. The rums used in the blending of the Black Tot which you are now sipping were supplied by ED & F Man.
     Man was one of the earliest of the major brokers who would revolutionise the rum trade as they moved from merely handling goods to blending their own brands. As well as Man and its contemporary E & A Scheer in Amsterdam there was Lemon Hart (estd 1804), C &J Dingwall (1830) (which would in time evolve into United Rum Merchants), George Morton of Dundee (1838) and Alfred Lamb (1849). All took advantage of the wider selection of rums available to start producing more complex brands. Different 'marks' of rum were arriving from now legendary estates such as Worthy Park, Monymusk, Blue Castle and Long Pond in Jamaica; Mount Gilboa is Barbados; Albion, Port Mourant and Berbice in Guyana... and many more
     It was at this poiint that Naval rum stopped being just a liquor and became a style of rum with a character of its own. What had started as a Jamaican or Barbados-based rum was now a blend built on a foundation of deep, full Demerara rums to which were added lighter rums from Trinidad, medium bodied rums from Barbados and those pungent, intense, Jamaicans which as this entry in a 1933 notebook found in the Navy's rum cellars shows, were used sparingly for a number of reasons: "Captain Harold Balfour asked the 1st Lord of Admirality if Jamaican rum was supplied for the Rum issue to Vanal ratings on the West Indies Station [WIS] and if Rum for Naval issue on WIS was bought by local purchase or by the ad. On London market and whether in the latter case shipment was made from England to WIS.
     "In reply, Admiralty said: Navy Rum issued to Fleet was a blend of Rums bought on London market all Empire products including Jamaica when price permitted. The blend was in such proportions as long experience had shown to produce the flavour preferred by the men. The blending process was carried out at Deptford where the Rum was stored in Vats before issue to ships. That procedure was the most economical and the most practical. Only very small proportions of Jamaica was used owing to its price and to it not being liked by men in the Navy.
     Records also show that rums from other islands (Martinique and Cuba were important players) were also used in the 19th century.
     In 1832, rum purchasing became part of the remit of the Admiralty's Victualling Department Somerset House in London. The wider selection of rums of different styles allowed ED & F Man to maintain consistency of flavour in what were massive volumes of liquid. The process changed little in the intervening years. The rums were bought either exclusively or through brokers -- for example, ED & F Man's close relationship woth Booker allowed them access to that firm's monopoly on Demerara rum production. The selection made, the rums would be transferred to vats in the Royal Victoria Yard, as this memo from the Deptford supervisor in 1888 describes: "The Rum is started into the vats which are all connected one with the other (although any one or more can be shut off) with such a quantity of water as will, it is estimated, reduce it as nearly as possible to issuing strength (4.5 under proof) but as it would be difficult to hit off this strength precisely in all the 32 vats, two of them (Nos 1 and 2) containing  17,960 and 17,820 gallons erspectively are appropriated as issuing vats in which the spirit is always kept at the precise issuing strength."
     These vats were linked because the rums was made using a 'solera' blending method, a technique adapted from the sherry trade.
     In this process, the blending vats are never completely emptied but regularly topped up with fresh new rum. In this way, consistency of flavour is achieved because there will always be a small amount of the original rum left in the vats which gives its character to the new liquid. This means that though the makeup of the blend may vary, the final flavour, in theory, would remain the same. 
     The blend remained consistent, bar a short period in World War II when it was impossible to guarantee supply from the UK rum stores. As a result, the fleet took on rum from wherever they stationed: Australia and South Africa for example, tohugh the sailors' reaction to the Natal-based rums was even stronger than their feelings from Jamaican!
     While we would like to, we cannot say what the precise makeup of the rum you are drinking is, or when the solera was established. The rum stocks in Deptford were lost during a flood in 1927 and damaged when the depot was hit during the Blitz in 1941 and it is unclear whether the original 19th century solera was damaged at this point as most of the archives were lost. However, even if the solera had to be fully re-established after the Blitz, Black Tit can be said to contain tiny percentages of rums first laid down in the vats from the 1940s on.
     The blended rum would then be coloured with caramel and stored at Woolwich and two other depots, the Royal Clarence Yard in Gosport and the Royal William Yard at Devonport where it would either be filled into flagons, or placed in casks to go on board ship.
     Today, there's nothing left of the 14 hectares of warehousing which once sat on Deptford's Foreshore and houses stand where the heady smell of rich sweet rum once rose into the London skies.

VI. 'The Matelot's Built-In Stabiliser Begins to Wobble'

As 'Jack Nastyface' confirms, by the turn of the 19th century the rum ration was a deeply ingrained part of the daily on-board ritual. That said, Vernon's 'Dagon' was once again rearing its head, so much so that in 1812 Admiral Lord Keith urged a reduction in the daily ration: "... Almost every crime except theft originates in drunkenness... It is an evil of great magnitude and one which will be impossible to prevent so long as the present excessive quantities of spirits is issued in the Royal Navy."

     Though any reduction was considered suicidal during the Napoleonic War, in 1824 Keith had his way and the ration was reduced to one gill [quarter of a pint] at dinner time. The problem was, that at this juncture the Government introduced the new Imperial gallon which simply made up the volume once more. As we've just seen, greater Admiralty control on supply after 1832 appears to have brought some of the worst excesses under control. The rum was also locked away from the sailors!
     Looking at the changed to the rum ration which took place in the 19th century it was clear that there were increasing pressure to reduce the sailors' reliance on what was called their 'built-in stabiliser', if not abolish it outright. In some ways it is amazing the rum ration lasted so long. There was a further reduction to one gill in 1844, the same year that a regulationwas passed that rum had to be consumed next to the rum tub -- there were still too many sailors passing on their tot to their shipmates. 
     A further reduction in the tot to half a gill came in 1850, while in 1866 the strength was reduced and standardised at 4.5 degrees under proof [54% ABV]. It is quite likely that it was this final reduction in the tot's size and strength which brought about the most significant improvement in quality... if the men were getting less rum and it came at a lower strength then it was even more important that it tasted good!
     Pressure continued to mount on the rum ration all through the 20th century, but it survived even the Deptford flood and the Blitz. That said, its popularity was on the wane. In 1914, of the 131,000 men in the Senior Service 87% (77,000) took their ration. By the mid-50s, less than a third of the 100,000 members of the service allowed to take their tot were doing so.

VII: Pennefather's Gambit

     Not only was there a dwindling affection for the rum ration, but the Admiralty was becoming convinced that the combination of rum drinking and increasingly complex naval technology and weapons systems was not ideal.
     One officer in the Fleet Air Arm recalls once when as he was about to launch from an aircraft carrier, a nervy enough experience, the face of the mechanic popped into the cockpit.

                    "Don't worry dir," he said to me with rum-infused breath, "You're in safe hands!"
                    "At that point, I began to wonder if the Tot was such a good idea."

     Yet another proposal to abolish the rum ration was made in 1957 and the admirality asked for comment from the Home and Mediterranean fleets. Captain R R S Pennefather, the senior captain afloat in the Navy in 1957 and captain of HMS Bermuda (Mediterranean fleet) wrote such a compelling letter to their Lordships about the affect on morale of those at sea that the decision was shalved. Pennefather's Gambit delayed the inevitable, but only until 1969.
     There was a certain inevitability about the rum ration's cessation and ultimately it was on-shore social changes whhich provided the final fatal blow. After all, a sailor in port could claim his tot (the equivalent of two double measures) on base, get in his car and drive home, but be well over the drink-driving limit. If he was considered incapable of driving a car, then how could he be in charge of a warship or nuclear submarine? Pennefather's Gambit had run out of time.

VIII. Black Tot Day

On December 17, 1969, the Admiralty Board sent out a Signal that: "... The daily use of rum in no longer compatible with the high standards of efficiency required now that the tasks in ships are concerned with complex, and often delicate, machinery and systems, on the correct functioning of which people's lives depend."
     There was considerable hubbub not only in the Fleet but on-shore... and in Parliament where the issue of tradition came in direct conflict with the safety concerns. The Rum debate was held on January 28 1970 and was opened with a vigorous plea and its continuation from James Wellbeloved MP for Erith and Crayford who spoke of his "deep anger and resentment" at the proposal and offered his Honorable Friends "sippers or gulpers at a more appropriate moment than the present... there is some evidence from people who serve at sea in Her Majesty's ships and in the Merchant Navy that a tot of rum can have a stabilising effect upon the stomach... Imagine, Mr. Speaker, the Fleet about to engage the enemy in a tempestuous sea. [Laughter]
          Mr. Speaker: "This is a serious debate. If there is too much interruption, I may have to hang on a hon. Member from the yardam."
          Wellbeloved: "We were about to engage the enemy, Mr. Speaker... A tempestuous sea is raging. Men are piped to a meal before action. If they can take their tot, they can consume their food; if they consume their food, they are able to face the coming action with greater strength and greater determination..."
     One of his parliamentary colleagues, to whome Mr Wellbeloved would have offered a 'gulper' was the MP for Bristol South, Mr W A Wilkins, who claimed to be 'the oldest Navy man in the House': "If I thought for one moment that the Lords of the Admiralty could produce evidence to show that there is what we call grog... I would think there would be some reason why we should support the Board of Admiralty... However, the only time I ever saw a man who was -- shall we say? -- just a little "under the weather" was on a man's birthday. But I also seen an admiral like that. [Laughter]
          Mr. Robeuck: Hoist the brace!
          Mr. William Hamlin: Shiver me timbers!
     The final plea came from Mr. Iremonger, MP for Ilford, North: The rum ration is more than the drink itself. It is more than a tradition. It is a ritual, and it is very important for morale that rituals should br maintained. If... ratings canno give "sippers" to their "oppos", it will have a very bad effect on general morale... I hope, therefore, that the hon. Gentleman will go back and splice main-brace with the Admiralty Board... and say that, on reflection, having taken the mood of the House, he has decided that this will not do."
     The 'Hon. Gentleman' in question was David Owen, the Under-Secretary for State of Defence for the Royal Navy and he had no such intention.
     "I... am only too well aware that the rum issue is a particular Navy privilege of long standing and one which is cherished and enjoyed by a great many ratings. I suggest, however, that certain facts must be faced... The unanimous advice of the Admiralty Board and, indeed, of practically every Naval officer, both medical and non-medical, is that the issue of rum impairs efficiency and is not compatible with the high standards of efficiency required... There are always arguments for postponing unpopular decisions... But, if a Minister believes that a decision is right, he should take it, and this is why the Admiralty Board unanimously made this decision."
     And so, at 10:29 on the 28th of January 1970, the decision was made to abolisg what Admiral Vernon had established 230 years before. Black Tot Day was set for Friday July 31 and despite mutterings of mutiny, the day passed with considerable good humour. Sailors wore black armbands, mock funerals were held, while rum tubs were consigned to the deep.
     As for the rum? ED & F Man continued as a major trader and by the 1980s was the sole supplier of wine, spirit and Caribbean sugar to the Soviet Union. The portfolio did not however include Naval rum, which was thought long gone. However, the remaining Naval stock had been filled into flagons and its this which you are now drinking.
     However you want to appreciate this rum, whether you are a sipper or a gulper, what you have in front of you is liquid history dating back to 1655. Up Spirits!

IX. This Rum

What are we to make of this rum? The colour is bright yet deep, mahogany cut with flashes of ruby. The slow legs which cling to the side of the glass suggest it is going to be substantial in the mouth.
     Before we get to that however, we'll spend time with the aroma. The first impact is treacle, then dark chocolate with super-ripe black fruits and an exotic lift of leather which brings to mind a gentleman's shoe shop. Let it breathe and it becomes more culinary, tomato puree and grilled vegetable followed by moist muscovado sugar and walnut. There's a little heat at the top of the nose which is knocked away by a drop or so of water. This light dilution takes it back to a rain-soaked Caribbean jungle, along with black banana, liquorice root, a hint of tamarind paste and once again that exotic edge, this time balsamic. It's a constantly moving mix od the sweet and the savoury.
     The palate starts thick and sweet, then as it moves into the centre of the tongue there's a light oaky grip before a burst of cassis / creme de murea. Thick and unctuous the second sip shows espresso and cacao. Water lightens it just a little showing a balanced eucalyptus character, some sumac and a mouth-watering acidity that was hidden when neat.
     The finish is very long with light scented wood, those black fruits and just a touch of cigar tobacco.
     On the face of it, Admiral Vernon would seem to be an unlikely creator for one of the world's great cocktails, yet in his order to the Fleet, issued at Port Royal, Jamaica on August 21, 1740 in which he suggests that sailors "may from the saving of their salt provisions and bread, purchase sugar and limes to make [their ration of rum] more palatable..." he was creating a drink which in the late 19th century was christened the Daiquiri.