Official Bottlings, Batches 26, 27 & 28 | Various ABV

A California Yankee in King Springbank’s Court

As someone who considers himself to be a skeptic, a realist, and generally unenthused about our global situationship and the overall “state-of-things,” there’s few people I can say I admire – living or dead.

Equally, being a student of American history, there’s little to applaud. The “great man” lore that besets schoolchildren about the creation of the country sets up our “Founding Fathers” to be a modern Pantheon, but ignores countless faults; the duality of humankind, and the marginalisation of millions of women, people of colour, and indigenous groups.

Most of the people worthy of admiration are those who are not famous.

Despite being a cynical grump, or “hater” as my partner calls me, I do try to approach the insanity of our day-to-day with as much humor as possible and find pleasure in the small beauties in life. Hence my draw toward nature, writing, fellowship, and the meditative joys of a good dram.

Notwithstanding a deeply critical analysis of history and current events (that’s probably best to be discussed another time) and standing by my statement that ordinary folk deserve far more praise than the “great men” who grace our textbooks, there’s a handful of notable historical figures that are worthy of some regard - especially for the purposes of weaving together a whisky write-up.

One of those is someone who regularly makes the frequently published lists of “Great Americans” and has multiple famous quotes attributed to him about his love for the water of life:

“I always take Scotch whisky at night as a preventative of toothaches. I have never had the toothache; and what is more, I never intend to have it.”

"The true pioneer of civilization is not the newspaper, not religion, not the railroad - but whiskey!"

"Too much of anything is bad, but too much good whiskey is barely enough.”

The person of course is Samuel Langhorne Clemons. Or, as history remembers him: Mark Twain.

Mr. Twain is a polarizing historical figure. His wit, humor, and one-man plays spinning yarns and anecdotes are believed to be the forebear of modern stand-up comedy. And despite being mostly progressive (especially for his time) when it came to women’s suffrage, civil rights, supporting the nascent labor movement, and for his help publishing the memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant - who would’ve died penniless with nothing for his family were it not for Twain’s generous support - his use of racial epithets are still controversial to this day, as well as his views against Native Americans. A reminder of my previous comment about the duality of humankind and the dangers of admiring anyone famous.

Twain was himself also a grumpy critic who debunked the absurd and romantic notions of his time and wrote extensively about embracing a simple life, making him a man after my own heart.

But this isn’t about Mark Twain, the historical figure. This is about Sam the Punter, America’s first famous whisky enthusiast.

Despite what history builds him up to be (and he was also extremely famous in his time), at the end of the day Sam is just a man who relished a tipple.

He famously fell in love with Scotch whisky on a trip to London in the 1870’s. This trip changed his perception of the spiritus frumenti and following this discovery, he’s thought to have switched his preference from bourbon to Scotch whisky; the old mountain dew. Sam particularly preferred his Scotch mixed as a type of crude old-fashioned served with lemon, sugar, and Angostura bitters following his trips abroad. Later in life he preferred adding a little hot water to his whisky.

He called Scotch whisky his “pet of all brews” and despite an earlier affiliation toward Kentucky bourbon (particularly Old Crow - also a Dunlop favorite from bygone days), in his later life he wrote almost exclusively about his preference for that most famous of Scottish exports.

Since Scotch whisky wasn’t imported to the United States on any grand scale in the late 19th Century, it must be assumed Sam had issues securing barrels (the only way to source whisky since bottles did not become easily available until well into the 20th century). It can also be assumed he had to seek out barrels of his favorite brands, get to know reputable importers and use extremely antiquated sourcing (likely a lot of paperwork and palm greasing) to get barrels on boats and into warehouses in the new world. More than once, it’s also assumed that casks he thought he had acquired were sold out or no longer available. Maybe sometimes he had to pay a little more than he wanted or turn down an offer he felt was too expensive Surely Sam got barrel FOMO more than once.

It’s recorded that powerful men in finance (to whom Sam would have access to as a famous person) sent him casks of Scotch whisky as gifts, to which more quotes are attributed to him.

“Your whisky came at the right time. Of course, your whisky never comes at the wrong time.”

Ah! The thrill of acquisition. We’ve all been there. In punter terms we call it “mail day.” If Sam had the equivalent of a 19th century Instagram account, no doubt he would do an unboxing video documenting the latest rare finds for his followers.

Sam the punter also fashioned himself a burgeoning whisky influencer, assigning reviews to the latest barrels received from his corporate benefactors:

‘The whisky arrived in due course from over the water; last week one bottle of it was extracted from the wood and inserted into me, on the instalment plan … with this result, that I believe it to be the best, smoothest whisky now on the planet.’

I’m sure Sam had his preferred brands. Would he have encountered Springbank? It’s likely a whimsical verse and glowing praise would be penned about its rarity, unique character, and the high quality and flavor of the spirit.

In one of his more famous novels, Mark Twain the author, not Sam the punter, wrote about an American who travels back in time to the court of King Arthur. There are many tales and lessons within the book (which is credited as one of the first novels in the budding genre of time travel) but the main plot of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court has the American, an engineer from Connecticut named Hank, eventually adapting to the world he’s transported too, mastering its secrets, and learning to thrive within it, despite being ridden down by knights, challenged to duels, navigating court politics, and exposing fraudulent wizards.

As an American immersed in the world of whisky, it can be a little overwhelming. And without culture or guidance, there are few resources for how to live, let alone thrive, in this space. Unfortunately, there’s trial and error and a great deal of learning-as-we-go, much like poor Hank accommodating to the world he’s thrust into.

Unlike Hank, who was whisked backwards in time and space by a head injury, this American’s migration to the alien world of whisky was entirely by choice. Dealing with all manner of questions and uncertainty with only an internet connection as my guide. (Neither Hank nor Sam had access to Wi-Fi. Imagine).

One thing is certain in our whisky world: Springbank is king. Not just King over the Campbeltown Court (whisky’s Camelot), but well-known to be tops of just about every enthusiast’s “best of” list. King Springbank sits at #1 on the Dramface Top 40 distilleries (very unlikely to be usurped anytime soon), consistently wins “Best Distillery” at the OSWA’s and six of the top twenty-five all-time bottles on Whiskybase are a Springbank release; an impressive one in four.

This tale is not meant to determine whether King Springbank deserves the regal status put upon it by us peasant punters. Especially since those who comprise “Springbank” are all just real, regular people creating something special to the praise of their peers. Top of their craft.

But as I said before: most of the people worthy of admiration are the ones who are not famous.

Learning to gain access to this scarce spirit as an American whisky enthusiast has been sometimes rewarding but is nothing if not fraught with challenges. Like Hank the time-traveling Yankee turned up in 6th Century Britain, I too feel like an outsider -- adapting, discovering the world’s secrets, attempting mastery.

And so, our tale begins.

Mine is certainly more modern (involving Wi-Fi) and involves being comfortable with decisions, understanding and knowing one’s limits, and overcoming FOMO.

Each bottle has its own story.

(I’ll try to do this whole thing without once saying: “Is the hype worth it?”)

Review 1/3

Springbank 12yo Cask Strength, Batch 26, 2024 release, Matured in 60% bourbon, 35% sherry, 5% rum casks, 56.2% ABV
USD$165 paid (£125)

The first bottle under discussion was also the first SB12CS bottle I acquired. Although my enthusiast days were well underway, I’d avoided pulling the trigger on this legend of Campbeltown for reasons mostly involving the usual caveats of scarcity and price. The way some folks (and Dramface) spoke of these bottles was with the highest reverence. All romance and nostalgia like a mid-19th century float down the Mississippi River.

Having yet found a solid retailer and with local stores charging up to $400 a piece, I figured this ruby-labelled jewel of Campbeltown would forever be outside my grasp.

But nonetheless I was intrigued. Putting my best Google and internet research skills to work. I dug deeper, researched further, and humbly asked questions of kind veteran punters, hoping they’d be willing to divulge their secrets.

Most of the advice was some form of “get lucky.” To a Californian it was: “How much are you willing to pay?” Well, it didn’t mean that much. Or did it? Certainly, I didn’t want to OVER-overpay or fall into that trap, but I also knew that getting a bottle at RRP would be next to impossible.

More solid advice: “Get them when they first come out.” The bottles are released twice a year. “Don’t chase last year’s releases, they’re all special.” With a little luck and patience, it could be mine without paying an arm and (two) legs.

Continuing my queries, someone posted a thread on reddit with the release schedule and the cask profile for the upcoming 12 year old cask strength. I’d built up some relationships by this point and decided to send an email asking if a bottle could be held for me, there wasn’t a reply, thinking back I assume retailers are bombarded by people thinking they’re important asking the very same on the eve of J&A Mitchell’s quarterly outturns.

My best advice is chalked up into the “luck” category: honestly, it’s just timing.

Scanning the websites first thing in the morning (having a work-from-home job helps immensely) a bottle popped up, posted minutes before I assume, and at a decent price, only about $45 over RRP. It felt like a fantastic deal next to the $2-300 I’d seen at other places. Order placed, website refreshed, it was really happening. The retailer even called me up after and has been a solid friend ever since.

I’ve had this bottle for over a year now, pulled out extremely sparingly as the lord of “occasion” bottles and I’ve appreciated seeing its contents evolve over time. Preparing for this write-up has caused the level to dip down below one-third so I think I’ll tuck this lovingly back into the closet and see how more time causes the liquid to unfold.

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
***TL;DR***
*This man’s first Springbank 12 & a true whisky touchstone*

Nose

Fresh Mexican Fruit Salad (Ensalada de Frutas con Chile y Limón). Damp funkiness like garden soil but also slightly metallic like Long Beach tap water. Gentle, earthy peat woven like a faint cookfire in the dirt. Coastal tang. Rock salt & seashells. Time in glass brings out more sweet berry fruits and adds a slight dirtiness to the smoke. Tajin. Peach pits. Metal polish. Burnt caramel. Zesty lemon citrus. Brandied cherries. Hints of musty old couch leather. Peppermint.

Water brings wet woody oakiness and more organic funk like wet leaves and driftwood. A little greasy smoke, charred pineapple, and cane sugar syrupy sweetness layered beneath. Amazing.

Palate

Thick, luscious, and chewy all at once on arrival. More smoke than the nose - over time I noticed a smokier lift and a dirtier edge to the peatiness. Salted Caramel. Coppery metal funkiness. Strawberries, red apples, and sweet jam. Full mouthfeel. Tropical smokiness lingers. Water brings juicy mangoes with a peppery bite of tajin and malty oats. The finish is long, less funk, more smoke and a milky cinnamon creaminess at the end like horchata.

The Dregs

A year later and it still slaps.

I did a write-up on this for social media last Summer and enjoyed seeing most of the same notes from then - nearly identical actually - but a slight evolution either by me or the bottle to notice it to be a little bit more rustic and dirty today with more pronounced smoke than my previous notes. Of the three this is the “smokier.” By no means a peat bomb and it certainly doesn’t dominate, but that dry, earthy smokiness prevails more here than the others.

It was none other than Wally himself who had the previous write up on this one last year. Reviewing his after I wrote mine out, we echoed each other on the tropical fruit notes. The heavier smoke is more apparent to me. To quote his notes, this is certainly a “big whisky.”

The rum cask adds just enough sugary notes around the edges so as not to overpower but instead adds lovely depth, unique sweetness, and complexity.

Everything about this whisky is special to me. From the thrill of the snag, to the first pour and all thereafter. There are higher age statements and sentiment prevails throughout the Dunlop whisky closet, but I think this one might be the crown jewel.

I felt like a true punter when this one received its place of honor on the shelf. Hopefully, I’ll always keep a little in the bottle, especially since there’s ample selections from the wee toon to choose from, including two more red-labelled gems with higher liquid levels deserving of their own space in this tale.

Score: 8/10

Review 2/3

Springbank 12yo Cask Strength, Batch 27, 2025 release, Matured in 60% bourbon, 35% sherry, 5% rum casks, 55.9% ABV
USD$240 paid (£180)

If the first bottle was pure luck and moxy and the stars aligning to deliver something special to the Dunlop porch, the second one may have been a masterclass in FOMO and classic overpay – everything a punter SHOULDN’T do.

I missed this one originally and wasn’t planning to chase it but eventually caved to (internal) pressure when folks in the Whiskyverse were saying it may be better than the previous batch. Ugh.

I reached out to source a bottle and was not given an enthusiastic response to receiving one even close to what I paid for the previous release. Lots of “we’ll see what we can do” and “no promises.” Grim prospects. I was sent the link a few days later with a much higher price point than I was hoping for, but no less expecting. At that point I was pot committed, past the punter point of no return. Link clicked.

I justified the higher-than-desired purchase price with the argument I’d just received some welcome additional client business and, to quote the great Donna Meagle, deserved a “treat yo’ self” style reward.

I’ll admit there was a tinge of buyer’s remorse on this one despite my self-justifications, and because of that the bottle went unopened for quite a while. Shadows of guilt and self-reproach at spending over-budget. I still wrestle with it honestly, but every punter must at one point graduate from the school of hard knocks (aka FOMO University.)

Before others begin casting stones of judgment, there are numerous sinners among the enthusiast ranks who have fallen into the overpayment-bottle-chase trap. Surely our old friend Sam the Punter overpaid for more than a few casks in his day.

Whatever repentance lingered in the back of my mind melted away once it was finally cracked.

Score: 9/10

**Exceptional.**
***TL;DR***
*A giant among greats. The richest and most layered of the bunch. Exceptional whisky*

Nose

At first, it’s fruity, rich, creamy, and complex and doesn’t stray as I keep coming back. Very fruity: red berry fruits, raspberries, peaches & cream, strawberry syrup, maraschino cherries. Orange sherbet. Mango ice cream. Cherry pits. Behind that there’s light, earthy, dry, ashy smoke. Garden soil again. Metallic tap water funk. Sweet bread. French vanilla. Oiled leather. Water brings strawberry milkshake, mangoes, red gummy bears, vanilla custard, and coconut macarons. Neat or with a little water, a lovely journey either way.

Palate

Just chewy, thick, creamy, mouth-coating deliciousness wrapped in dirty, funked-up smokiness. It’s hard not to sip this with eyes closed. A little leathery. Extraordinarily rich. Canned pineapple. Pecan pie. Cherry cola. Ashy smoke. Water brings more creaminess like strawberry cheesecake. Peeps Easter candy. Butterscotch toffee. Grandma’s fruit salad. Hints of sandalwood. A sticky finish with a more pronounced dirt & smoke right at the end to remind the sipper its soul resides in Campbeltown.

The Dregs

This is my pick of the bunch. It’s the richest, fruitiest, and most elegant of the three. Batch 26 and 27 are testament to why Springbank carries so much mythology within the Punter Parthenon. Despite having the same cask profile as the previous batch, there’s something just a little more elevated and engaging with this release that to me takes it from “special” to “exceptional.”

Those extra layers of richness qualify as Archie’s first official Dramface 9.

Where the previous expression is certainly fruity and sweet with those nice sugary accents, to me this is pure elegance in a glass. The fruits are diverse: berry fruits, tropical fruits, passion fruits - syrupy and sweet. The funkiness and smoke are certainly present but there’s just a large helping of creamy richness layered throughout.

Desert Island whisky.

Score: 9/10

Review 3/3

Springbank 12yo Cask Strength, Batch 28, 2025 release, Matured in ex-bourbon casks, 55.5% ABV
USD$135 paid (£100)

Lessons learned.

Despite my gushing notes over the last bottle and its contents redeeming the inflated purchase price, a conscious decision was made not to fall into that trap again. Discipline and limit-setting were to be the rallying cry of this author moving forward. “Fool me once, shame on me…” etc.

But as the release date neared and revealed to be 100% bourbon casks, a gleeful voice inside brought out the ol’ devil on the shoulder. After all I had just enjoyed the punchy and youthful Springbank 5 year, and the Hazelburn 10 was another Dunlop favorite, both testaments to the luster of Springbank spirit fully matured in ex-bourbon casks.

Luckily, the plunging trajectory of pricing and near collapse of the secondary market over the past year allowed the invisible hand of the free market to help guide me to a much better deal on this bottle. Also, preparation.

Employing takeaways from my previous experience, I reached out early and got the jump on a bottle. Showing restraint, I also set limits and was able to secure it at a much more comfortable price point - aided by a combination of readiness, confidence, and market fluctuations.

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
***TL;DR***
*Less polished, but bursting with raw Springbank character. A gorgeous ex-bourbon release*

Nose

Pure Springbank joy. Malty, farmy, and funky with fresh fruits and dirtiness on the side. Creamy vanilla. Dried Summer grass. Earthy woodsmoke. Burlap. Wheat bread. Burnt biscuits. Browned apples. Musty basement. A little minerality, less metallic, more of an old woody funk. Dirty old rope. Orange peel. Chipped paint and worn wood. Water brings Quaker Oats box, sweet vanilla, more old wood, ashy smoke, banana peels, wet fallen leaves, sea salt, caramel chews, and green apple slices. Coming back, it’s mustier but with more dusty garage and metal shop behind the malty sweetness.

Palate

Fruitier and sweeter than the nose, but there’s still some nice smokiness. Oily. Vanilla bean ice cream. Pepper. A touch of nuttiness, like salted almonds. Smashed peaches.

Water sweetens the dram, bringing white cake with vanilla frosting, buttered toast, marshmallow cream, cinnamon roll, and Frosted Mini Wheats cereal. There’s a light dirty smoke on the finish with dry dustiness, sourdough bread, and hints of copper sending us off.

The Dregs

Springbank in ex-bourbon. The more I engage with this wonderful spirit the more I appreciate the raw and unrestrained character that comes from letting the distillate shine in bourbon casks. Sure, the previous two are great whiskies and the sherry and rum casks add those wonderful berry fruits and sugary sweetness, but the spirit’s true character is laid bare here and it’s delightful.

Any Springbank fan would revel in this bottle.

Where the first two bottles are fruity, funky, and rich, this one is dustier, dirtier, and farmier, but also creamier with vanilla sweetness, as well as more orchard fruits over the tropical and berry fruits of the previous two.

Further, just like Hank the Displaced Yankee, I finally found my footing within this alien world, but it was a journey nonetheless. I came full circle from wide-eyed hopeful to guilt-ridden spendthrift, to disciplined professional.

I learned to set and live within limits, but also had hard lessons about timing and evolving beyond the thrill of the chase itself. Having three bottles that are all quite different will give me pause on further exploration of this series, especially because that’s three more than many within the whiskyverse can claim and I should be grateful for that.

Score: 8/10

Final Dregs

Hard to say more about these bottles or Springbank 12 Cask Strength as a whole. More words than this (admittedly long) write-up have been spilled over multiple reviews, and videos abound with nearly every enthusiasts take on this king of distilleries and its most sought-after range.

TL;DR: That #1 spot on the Top 40 ain’t going anywhere.

I don’t know if Sam the Punter ever sampled whisky from the wee toon, I sure hope he did. Maybe it explains his manic appreciation for the uisge beatha later in life.

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

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