We introduced the concept, with much approval, to paddling mates in Tasmania and worked our way through four bottles of Glenmorangie in eight weeks paddling in Alaska in 2014. Well, it was half the price there than in Tasmania.
And to anyone who disapproves, a regular tot of rum didn't seem to have had any adverse effect on the competence of the Royal Navy over a period of some hundreds of years.
Malt whisky is virtually unobtainable in Iceland, rare and phenomenally expensive so we thought we'd go local, picking up two half litre bottles of duty free 'Brennivin' at the airport for a princely sum of AU$22. Nicknamed 'black death', it was traditionally used to mask the taste of fermented shark flesh at Iceland's mid-winter feast. One friend described it to us as "disgusting". Another had mentioned he has "lost whole weekends on that stuff".
Did I mention that it is so classy it comes in 500ml plastic bottles, the litre bottles are upmarket glass. Classy or not, plastic bottles are perfect for carrying in a sea kayak.
Days off the water don't count for a sip and some days we simply forgot or the bottle was still in the boat and we couldn't be bothered to get out of the tent and get it.
We became quite partial to its unusual spicy palate, if it was an acquired taste then we got it. To others I'm sure it would taste like paint stripper.
Anyway, over the last six weeks we slowly worked our way through our two bottles until last night, when with about 2/3rds of a cap full each we finished the second bottle.
No more Brennivin.
It was only later that evening deciding whether to take on the 25km crossing of Oxarfjordur the next morning that the discussion widened to us eventually deciding that we wouldn't paddle any further and this would be the end of the trip.
Timely coincidence or predetermination - you choose.
1 comment:
A wise move Tim, especially as you had run out of 'hooch'.
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