Part 1 of the Whisky Dash 2025 | 47% ABV

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*A fun, weaving whisky that has surprised, yet it doesn’t fit the brief.*

To the High Seas!

You can’t have it all. A pristine surface that stretches to the horizon, sliced apart by the sharp bow and folded upon itself around the bulging hull, with a light rasp of fizzing foam when the tumbled water re-emerges from beneath. Glassy, viscous, black-oily water.

We can only bear witness to such sensory treats upon the absence of wind, which, when your main means of propulsion is under sail, is problematic. But that’s ok, because the beauty of what surrounded us and the peace that saturated our skin as much as the sun’s warmth, as we motored around the south coast of Arran, was more than enough compensation.

The evening prior had been similar conditions, casting off from Largs around 1pm to catch a mooring at Lamlash. We arrived in calm waters and watched a beautiful sunset fall behind the jagged Goatfell mountain range. Drams on Deck was the theme of the Whisky Dash 2025 trip to Campbeltown, and we started off strongly.

Despite looking like something that had fallen from a great height, our piping hot dinner of stovies and peas was just the ticket to reenergise after what was a long day of driving and motoring on the sailboat.

Sitting with our feet up in the cockpit watching the constantly shifting view from the stern of the boat, thanks to a light evening wind that pivoted all the boats moored up in synchronisation, things couldn’t be better. Well, except from when the boats rotated to the east, exposing a gentleman enjoying an extra dose of UVA on his unsheathed skin.

Alongside the stovies we poured a myriad of fine bottles to celebrate another volley in the name of whisky; a Murray McDavid Strathdearn, a Glasgow Small Batch Constantia, through a Lindores Ruby Port and a Kilkerran Heavily Peated.

The latter was left on the boat by a previous passenger which was found to be far too sharp and peated for everyone’s tastes. I tried some and found it a bit spikey too. Food for thought; I have it home with me now for future judgement.

The morning crossing to Campbeltown around Arran was joyous, giving us time to look around and soak up the scrolling view with the island, Pladda Lighthouse and Lagg Distillery to starboard, with Ailsa Craig and, in the very far distance, Ireland, to port. The Wee Toon was dead ahead, and thanks to a visibility of well over 20 miles, we could see Daavar Island from almost the get-go.

It wasn’t long before the fenders were being tied on and ropes set up port-side-to for our termination in Campbeltown Harbour. We passed by the giant cruise ship “Le Laparouse” and the three-masted sailing ship “Thalassa”, which travels around Scotland, and further afield, to deliver whisky exciters to as many distilleries as they can fit inside ten days. All pretty exciting stuff, but the most exciting boat for me is always the Severn Class RNLI Lifeboat, stationed at Campbeltown.

Every year I spend far too long staring at its hulking, angular orange body and wondering where the brave crew will be heading to next. The Severn Class is the biggest, most capable, and most powerful lifeboat in the RNLI fleet, with two 1,600hp 22litre engines (one for redundancy), and a cabin that self-rights if capsized. Below the main operation room is the survivor's cabin; windowless and tortuous in heavy seas, it's still a sanctuary versus the watery end times from which you'd just been bravely plucked.

You can imagine my pulse rising, then, as we rounded the pier to reveal not just one Severn Class Lifeboat, but two.

Safely tied up and tidied away, we enjoyed a quick lunch and a quicker shower before heading up to the town for our first event of the weekend: the Warehouse Tasting Tour. Uncle Foosty’s hip is completely jiggered, so we take it slow and steady. It’s good, because it gives me time to look around and take photographs of the blossoming high street; Campbeltown is looking great.

We arrived at the racing green and gold Cadenhead’s shop, and assessed their towering shelves of treats. The young chap at the till was very eager to assist, with a lot to be said about everything we happen to cast our eyes upon. A palpable theatre of pregnant pauses, he was a great help when it came to Foosty asking about the rum selection.

Cadenhead’s conveniently released, on the Friday of our trip, the latest outturn of uberwhisky, including a brand new 5yo Ardnamurchan fully matured in an Oloroso hogshead. No prizes for guessing what I had in my hand before the door closed behind us. I’ll get to this one in a future review.

Our Warehouse Tasting Tour kicked off at 3pm from the shop, when Craig called everyone to order. We were two amongst 5 others, all from Yorkshire, and all on a stag weekend, which became evident later on when Craig got wind of who was soon to be eternally doomed, and accordingly increased, to stifled laughter, only his pours of each cask pull. Needless to say he accepted begrudgingly, with an accepting single wipe of his brow and a licked lip, how far down the rabbit hole he was going to fall.

This year the Warehouse Tasting Tour, like last year, was stationed in an old disused warehouse that used to be the place where the local fisherfolk dried their fishing nets. The call from Craig to throw any unwanted drams onto the walls to try and shake the coastal ambience was noted, but I’m not sure much whisky was tossed; certainly none from the Yorkshire crew.

Every year that we come to the Warehouse Tasting there's typically been a few casks, of the 6 presented to willing participants, that are fantastic. Cadenhead’s, for those not falling into the whisky-ultras category, have to offer a spread of whiskies in this line-up; it wouldn’t be fun for anyone if there were 6 niche expressions, and as such there’s always a great spread of regions and styles of whisky. Last year was leaning more heavily towards Speyside. This year was eclectic.

The first cask to be poured from Craig's steel valinch was a 17yo Glenlossie, fully matured in a bourbon hogshead and presented at 52.2% ABV. As the first whisky of the day, it wasn’t ever going to be an analytical experience and the ABV certainly wasn’t palate calibration strength, but nonetheless it was a very fruity and Speysidey whisky. £80 was asked and, after so many years of whisky inflation, we marvelled at a 17yo single cask being offered at this price. Cadenhead’s have never felt opportunistic with pricing, mind you.

Second out the gate was, for me, a stoater. Rich, juicy, lightly spiced, viscous, no burn or heat to be found. Highland? Maybe even a cask heavy lowlander? No, this was an English whisky, specifically from Yorkshire. Our pals beside us lit up - Spirit of Yorkshire! Just down the road, they shouted! How good it was - gingersnaps and cooking spices aplenty; this was getting me excited.

Matured in a Madeira cask and offered at 47% ABV, it was surprisingly low alcohol content against its relative youth - a porous cask Craig proffered. A pin was put in this one, and at £80 not outside the realms of worthy. Four more casks to go.

Next up was a big boy - a 16yo refill sherry butt, of unknown type but thought to be Fino or Amontillado, from Glenallachie pre-Billy Walker, and in the glass the colour of light straw. Foosty and I became animated at this because the Glenallachie of modern day is an exercise in darkness.

In the tasting though it was searing, mouth stripping and borderline undrinkable; the reveal of its 63.5% ABV strength, even after 16 years in the cask, explained why. Doses and doses of water struggled to bring it back in check, so we moved on with recognition that this cask must have been filled at a remarkable strength to fall to 63.5% after a 16 year maturation. Or a magic impenetrable oak cask. £80.

Fourth out the gate was another sweetie, and something that had Uncle Foosty yumming: a 13yo Tullibardine finished for four years in PX at 55.5% ABV. It was all sweet Caramac, Lotus biscuits and toffee, some spice in there and some tropicals. £60 for this one, and something I fancied too, although not as much as the Yorkshire.

Ardmore came next, and my love of this overlooked wee highlander had me ready in anticipation. Nine years in bourbon and four in Amontillado, this was a smoky, barbecue meat fest with all the glorious sweet/saucy stuff Ardmore is capable of, but something wasn’t singing for me. £70 and 57% ABV was interesting but still not as engaging as the S of Y for me.

Last cask for the Warehouse Tasting was always going to be an Islay, and in past years we’ve always found this inclusion a bit mediocre. This year continued that trend, with a Bunnahabhain/Staoisha in refill sherry that I noted was “Fish and chip shop. Medicinal, salty. Oven chips. Chips. Chips. Oily. Chips. Buttery. Bacon.” It was ok, but not anything to get the juices properly flowing; I consider peated whisky such a mood dram, and I wasn’t in the mood. 58.5% ABV and £70 made it a forgettable end.

Anyone who fancies any of these whiskies to take home straight from the cask, just had to place their order with Craig and he’d see to it that the bottles were filled, labelled and transported around to the shop for us to collect.

I opted to go for the Spirit of Yorkshire only, deeming the Tullibardine not as good and, with my eye on other potential shop purchases, something I was happy to let go. Uncle Foosty went for the Tullibardine though, so hopefully he’ll send me a wee sample.

Straight after the Warehouse Tasting the group were invited to redeem a voucher for one free dram at the nearby Tasting Rooms, a cosy wee bar that backs onto the Cadenhead’s shop and Blending Lab. I plopped for an Ardmore 11yo, whilst Foosty went for a Tullibardine 10yo Fino, which we dispatched with post-warehouse enthusiasm.

It was already a very hot day in the Wee Toon, but one of the Yorkshire crew inadvertently kicked on the underseat heating system and soon we’re all sweating buckets. The next dram for Foosty emerges like a fart in a sweaty spacesuit - Jura 11 fully matured in bourbon. He likens it to an open drain in the dead heat of Edinburgh summer, and even though he is utterly repulsed, finishes it anyway. Jura made no reparations to its dwindling reputation on this day.

Next, I try the new Ardnamurchan 5yo from the latest Cadenhead’s release and it’s wonderful. Then I try a Paul John that’s sat in Cadenhead’s shop since we first came here on our very first whisky dash: a 5yo full-matured bourbon hogshead, and every year I consider getting it. It’s delightful and I’m sorely tempted again, but I know there’s a 6yo in the shop, so I decided to ask if I can try them both before committing.

Foosty regains his balance after the Jura and heads into his happy place: Glen Garioch, which redresses the situation and he vows to buy a bottle in protest for crimes against whisky. Jura does itself no favours, and even though the Manzanilla from Cadenhead’s was glorious, it goes to show that there’s legitimate fire beneath the Jura smoke. Time to get some food in our slowly slackening faces.

Back at the shop, we collect our Warehouse Tasting bottles and I swither over the Paul John. They don’t have any of the 6yo open, so there’s no way to check and see if the 5yo is the best one to go for. It was excellent, but £78 is a lot of money to find that if I’d only paid £7 more I could've had a stoater in the 6yo, or even the 7yo, so I decided to leave them all and consider it again tomorrow, when I’m more compus mentis.

Suitably oiled, and with bottles safely in rucksacks and paper bags, I have an overwhelming, specific hankering for a haggis supper, with an additional single sausage on the side - absolute gluttony. It is what it is. Might have been the Staoisha. Foosty agrees to me soloing to the chippie and takes up his speed stick to amble back to the boat. I yomp over to “The Chip Off The Old Block” like a crab on a mission; this is the go-to chippie in Campbeltown, according to all the Cadenhead’s staff.

Foosty wanted a white pudding supper, but says there’s no way there’ll be one in a Campbeltown chippie. How wrong he was.

Cash only. I have to head back to Tesco to procure this fanciful thing called “money” out of a machine, and as I pass the supermarket frontage I see their tiny pagoda roof which, according to Craig, was a requirement of planning permission to be in-keeping with the feel of Campbeltown, and to honour the distillery that once sat on its footprint. It’s comically small though.

Back at the boat with haggis, sausage, white pudding and chips thrust with speed into our eager faceholes, I take photos of our catch of the day in the glorious evening sunshine - a smorgasbord of Spirit of Yorkshire, Tullibardine, Ardnamurchan, Glen Garioch and a wee bottle of Rum that Foosty fancied.

Basking in the heat of the setting sun and drinking our Drams on Deck with contented smiles after another glorious day spent in the pursuit of fine, fine whisky, we look forward to the Blending Lab session on Saturday.

Review

Spirit of Yorkshire 6yo, 2018, Madeira Barrel, 47% ABV
£80 available only as part of the Warehouse Tasting Tour from Cadenhead’s.

Back home now and a full two weeks on from the fun of the Whisky Dash 2025, I’m keen to find out whether or not the Spirit of Yorkshire was a worthwhile purchase. It’s already open and drammed a few times over the Whisky Dash weekend, and each time was excellent.

The cold light of day has a way of sinking many hearts.

Nose

Red and fruity. Sweet. Woody. Watered down brown sauce. Salt appears - matchbox striker. Hint of olives. Grilled ham. Mango or toasted pineapple. Burnt ends. Cologne sweetness - spice? Feels a bit Loch Lomond-y. Coconut.

Palate

Big. Sweet. Bold. Woody. Sauce - umami/sweet and sour sauce. Pencils. Salted honey. Sweetener. Bit of creel. Saline! Gravel/petrichor. Wet soil. Apple sauce. Tobacco - cigar smoke. Black wine gums.

The Dregs

It doesn’t feel too young, and I suppose the massive loss in ABV makes this a more rapidly matured whisky? I ask the Dramface crew and there’s quite a lot of theories batted around before oor Broddy pokes the bear and states the obvious - ask the folk who released it?

So I do, speaking with Cadenhead’s to ask what the deal is with this Spirit of Yorkshire, and why it has such a low ABV from the cask. Was it evaporation? Climate? Leaky casks? Well, it turns out that this cask of Madeira matured SoY was in fact taken from a larger vatting of SoY, created before reducing the spirit to a marrying strength of 50% ABV.

It’s not a leaky cask or climate or anything else - it’s just had water added to it! Here’s where it gets a bit…emotional. It’s where the smell and taste of something is influenced by the feel of it; the human side of whisky. Before I knew this information I was thinking to myself how oily and unctuous it was, how all that ABV lost through mystical means had created a thick little juice box.

The first dram I sipped many days after learning this information felt watery. It felt weak and a wee bit disappointing. A calibrator of Digger’s latest grain/malt blend, then a Cadenhead’s Geery 11 from their Original Collection, led straight into the SoY and it just didn’t feel like it used to. What to do about it?

I moved onto different drams - a Tullibardine from that same Warehouse Tasting that Uncle Foosty had sent up in the intervening weeks of downtime. Now THAT is what I’m talking about: blooters of flavour, sweet, salty, juicy down the facepipe. I shunned the SoY for a few more drams, taking in some other cask strength whiskies to remind myself what unfettered whisky should do to my face.

The last pours I had of the Spirit of Yorkshire, before this review was submitted, were poured after that bout of cask strengthers, on a Thursday evening before the vPub. I was on YouTube waiting, and saw a performance by IDLES at the Spanish music festival “Primavera”, frontman Joe Talbot’s pink hair drawing me in. So I clicked on it as I poured a “final” dram of SoY into my wee tasting copita.

An hour later three things had happened. I’d poured two more drams (it’s in a “Perfect Measure” glass so about 15-20ml each pour). I realised that I had been blown away by the visceral, powerful raw energy of IDLES’ music, stage presence and their inclusivity, but also that I’d been given a hard lesson in patience. The SoY in my glass, that sat undisturbed as I watched transfixed, had opened up.

It had revealed to me new things, like a saline thread of such savoury salt that I was convinced I was drinking sea water. Then a fantastic, bright and stinging matchbox striker salt burst. Then some cucumber freshness, before pivoting over to a thick caramel chocolate sandwich.

As the gig came to a shattering end, I finished my definitive final glass and stood up, baffled by the late turn of events. Not only had I completely missed the vPub, but I’d been shown a new, utterly compelling form of guttural music that stuck me to the seat, and I’d realised that my engagement with this wee bottle of whisky had swung wildly from loving the big sweet juiciness of initial impressions, to feeling I had been cheated somewhat, and then resolving to the fact that this 6yo whisky is fantastic.

It weaves an uncertain path. It introduces itself as a wee bit underpowered, but as the dram sits, and the time ticks, the whisky reveals in fits and starts a technicolour spread of flavour. Quite remarkable really. Where the Madeira influence fits into this whole jigsaw I have no clue - I really need to go on an odyssey of discovery to get a baseline for what each of these drinks offer in their own right, so that I can identify them inside whisky.

Cadenhead’s tasted this cask in SoY’s warehouse, alongside others that they’ve bottled and racked since, and loved it, but couldn't find a place for it in their current range system; it was placed into the Warehouse Tasting line-up as an oddity. I’m really glad they did, because I’ve enjoyed exploring it.

But this is not cask strength, unfettered whisky that we head into the Warehouse Tasting to discover. It’s not had some mystical journey to Campbeltown losing ABV hand over fist, and in the cold light of Misty Isle living room appraisal, the environment doesn’t assist in bolstering a whisky’s enjoyment. It’s not in any shape or form a disappointment: it’s great whisky, but the only thing stopping it reaching the Something Special 8/10 is the price.

The £80 that I paid for this, in my phase of reduced budget whisky purchase hand wringing, and knowing now that a human hand has manipulated the whisky, takes something away from it, for me. When I bought the whisky in Campbeltown it came with a unique story to dive into, that would hopefully explain why a 6yo whisky lost so much percentage over its short life.

I had something to get my teeth into as a means of expanding my appreciation of whisky maturation and all its funny foibles. But in reality, this is a cask of whisky that’s been vatted from other casks, watered down in ABV to 50% and subsequently lost 3% whilst in the fishnet warehouse.

That’s not as endearing to me, and as such asks quite a premium for an almost core-range presentation, 6yo whisky from a larger vatting of unknown provenance. In that wide lane, where 10yo whiskies are offered for £40, it doesn’t stand out as much. Very good indeed, regardless, and a fun journey to boot.

Onwards to Cadenhead's Blending Lab… To follow.

Score: 7/10

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC

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