Peat-smoked fire bricks, tarred ropes, lobster pots on old boats, Fisherman’s Friends, sweet scallops, seaweed, coconut husk doormats, barbecued sausages – that was the nose. The palate was a massive, tongue-roasting, smack in the face (ash, smoking charcoal, charred sausages and black pudding, over-done crême brûlée and lime); but somehow calming with its vanilla ice-cream sweetness. The reduced nose – dunnage warehouses, oily, herby, peaty, oaky, burnt toast – fascinating. The palate remained big, brooding, masculine and intense, with over-roasted vegetables, flamed chorizo and some plastic, soapy resonances (manly version of rubber duckies at bathtime?). Now Islay’s only distillery with a Jack Russell.