Spirit of Shetland: Exclusive interview with the man behind the UK's most northerly distillery

Stuart Nickerson is the man behind the second attempt to establish a Shetland whisky 
distillery, at the former RAF Saxa Vord in Unst. He means business. And he has the 
experience to back up his plans. He spoke exclusively to Shetland Life Magazine about the possibility of being up and running within two years, making gin as well as whisky, and why Unst is the perfect place for a distillery.

(copyright Shetland Life Magazine 2013)


Can you tell me a bit about yourself? What are your 
credentials for setting up a distillery?

I left university back in 1979 – I did chemical
engineering – and joined a processing equipment
company, Henry Balfour in Fife. They serviced the
whisky industry, mainly buiding mash tuns and
evaporators, and as a result I visited a few distilleries –
Bunnahbhaiin, Convalmore, Rothes – and I just fell in
love with the industry. It might have helped that there
were a few drams on offer each time I went! It was
fabulous.

The next minute an opportunity came up to join
Bells as it was in those days, an independent company,
at Dufftown. I joined them as a chemist, theoretically,
but basically worked as a chemical engineer across
four distilleries. I took over Bladnoch (in Wigtown) and
got that back working for them. Then an opportunity
came up to become manager at Highland Park in 1984,
and that took me to Orkney for three years. Highland
Distillers then asked me to move to Glenrothes, so I
took that on until 1987, when I spent a couple of years
at Glenglassaugh. Due to the lure of some extra pennies
I joined United Distillers as project manager, looking
after all their malt distilleries. I loved that so much I was
there for 15 months! Draw your own conclusions.

In 1990 I went to work for William Grants. I
was that company for 14 years, and that probably tells
you how much I liked William Grants! So I was there,
general manager at Glenfiddich-Balvenie-Kininvie
for five years before moving down to Girvan where I became
general manager for a year. For the rest of my
time at Grants I was Distilling Director for the whole
company.

By 2004 my kids had left home – it was mutual
decision, shall we say, that I leave Grants and that
was when I started up on my own, running my
own business, the Malt Whisky Company, initially
as a consultancy. A couple of years down the line
I was asked to look at purchasing a distillery for
some investors, and I approached Highland about
Glenglassaugh. I bought it on behalf of those investors
and then managed it for five years before it was sold to
Benriach earlier this year.

Since then I’ve been running the Malt Whisky
Company and it’s going very well – the consultancy
in particular as so many people are wanting to build
distilleries at the moment! I’ve also started trading
in casks, to a small extent. Mostly I deal with two
independent bottlers overseas.

Why consider a distillery in Shetland?

I’d only been in Shetland once, when I was asked to do
a bit of work on behalf of the previous business that
was trying to set up a distillery – that’s Blackwoods,
Caroline Whitefield. I had a look at the water source
on her behalf, had a quick look at her business plan
and I saw great potential if the business plan was done
properly. Coincidentally, I happened to hear from Frank
Strang (owner of the RAF Saxa Vord site) earlier this
year, and he was keen to the resurrect the idea. We got
together and we’ve seen an opportunity to build a wee
distillery.

Why specifically Shetland?

Because it is the last
remaining part of Scotland that doesn’t have a distillery.
And it is the most northerly – it’s got a fantastic USP.
And once you get to Shetland – I’ve lived in Orkney,
I’ve lived all over the mainland – but Shetland has
something unique, definitely.

You’ll have to bring in barley, but what about natural 
resources?

The water supply is very good. Unst water – no problem
there. But it’s the people. everyone’s so interested,
and that for me is very important. There’s no point in
making a product if you don’t have the people beside
you who want to sell it. Every single resident as far as
I can see in Unst – everybody I’ve met – seems very
enthusiastic.

Will there be a tourist element to the distillery?

There won’t be a lovely big fancy visitor centre –
because we just don’t have enough visitors up there.
But there will be a tourist element, so that people
can see round. Snd we’ll try and sell things to people
as well. Another thing that attracted me is that right
next door we have Valhalla Brewery and just having
somebody with that experience next door to you is very
helpful. Plus the fact that there will be some synergies
between brewing and distilling we can build on.

Didn’t it used to be illegal to have a brewery and a 
distillery so close together?

There are lots of things that used to be against the law,
and no longer are! Illicit distilling is certainly against the
law – we won’t be doing that!

How many folk will be employed?

Initially only a couple of people. But they will have a lot
of responsibility and an incredibly varied job. I think
we’ll have lots of fun.

Will all the product be tankered south? Will it be aged or 
bottled in Shetland?

The plan is to have a warehouse and a small bottling
hall – nothing elaborate. Everything we did at
Glenglassaugh was hand bottled until we were taken
over by Benriach. We were doing over 2000 bottles a
year there – so if we could do that out of the kitchen of
an old house we can make a better bottling proposition
here.

Have you any ideas about what the whisky you make will 
be like, what it will taste like? Will it be a peaty malt?

The plan is to have lots of character. There will be a bit
more depth than lighter lowlands, a roundness to it and
hopefully quite a bit of fruitiness. I’d like to have a lot
of sherry wood content. Many people like that and it’ll
help give it depth. Will there be peat – in my opinion
yes, there will be a bit of peat, but it might not be there
all the time. We might have two streams of contrasting
whiskies, in fact.

How much whisky will the distillery make?

Initially 30,000 litres of alcohol per year, which to be
honest is tiny – an absolute drop in the ocean!

What about branding, image, names?

We don’t have a name yet. If anybody wants to come
up with names please give us a shout! I’m leaning
towards Saxa Vord for the distillery, because, well, that’s
where it is, but the branding of the actual product –
that would be different. It could be associated with
music. I don’t see why not. Music is so much associated
with Shetland – I was at this year’s folk festival and I
found it was stunning. It was amazing to see the young
kids and what they can do with their music here, so
yes, it would be good to have some kind of association
with music.

Obviously there will be a Viking connection in there
somewhere. There’s got to be because I think that’s
what brands Shetland around the world, to be honest.

When do you expect the distillery to be up and running?

If everything had gone to plan – we were hoping to
buy a second hand distillery, mash tuns, stills and
all, a very small one – and we were up to speed with
planning permission, HMRC approvals and the like …
then we could have been up and running sometime
in April next year, 2014. However, it looks like we will
not get the second hand equipment from Sweden. We
have already started to investigate other options which
basically means installing new equipment.

We are obtaining quotes at the moment and this
will result in an inevitable delay to the project and
will make the capital cost higher. However we still
believe that the finances work and will be appealing to
investors and so we are all fully committed to it.

As we will now be installing new equipment then
the installation of a whisky distillery in Shetland is
provisionally delayed by up to two years, however
we are also looking at options that will speed up this
process.

We are trying to push ahead, and there are things
that help us are first, the size – because it’s small the
planning permissions are much less restrictive – and
second, we don’t have to construct a building – it’s
there already.

I have to say that we’ve had great co-operation
with the council and all the other organisations we’ve
had to deal with. They’ve all been great: SEPA, SNH,
the Scottish Agricultural Colleges and Environmental
Health – everybody is very much behind it I think.
Obviously we have various regulations to comply with,
but people are trying to be helpful, and not put barriers
in the way.

The last attempt at a distillery asked people locally to 
invest in bonds which would possibly give them a 
return, and at least a case of whisky …

No, there will be no bonds like that. Our business plan
is being ratified at the moment by our accountants
and once that’s done we will be looking for some
amount of investment – but that will be from the City,
larger financiers and the like. what we will do once
the kit is in place and we’re running is offer people the
chance to buy casks of whisky for investment or for
drinking the future, once the whisky is mature. I’ve
been in this business for 30 years, and I wouldn’t want
to do anything which would harm the project or my
reputation. I’ve heard too many bad stories.

You can’t sell what you’ve distilled as Scotch Whisky until 
it’s matured in oak for three years. What will you do to 
make money from the distillery during that initial three 
years?

As I’ve said, we plan to sell casks and warehouse them
for the purchasers. And we’ll sell brand new spirit. I’m
thinking that could be called Spirit of Shetland. When
I was at Glenglassaugh we bottled six-month-old spirit
from red wine casks and 12-month from bourbon
casks. That provided – different colours and different
flavours. It was interesting and we might look at that.
I’m also investigating the possibility of putting in a
gin still as well, and running that in parallel. And that
would be gin actually made and bottled in Shetland,
with real Shetland provenance! Cheers!

Copyright Shetland Life Magazine 2013. All rights reserved.

Then play on: Looking back at the weekend, the Clutha tragedy, and being on air when it happened

If there was one thing I was looking forward to during the three live, three-hour Morton Through Midnight shows I present (10.00pm to 1.00am, BBC Radio Scotland, Friday through Sunday) it was playing a track called Maybe I'll Come Back Home, by a band calling themselves Fantastic Lights. An old friend was involved, emerging from a musical silence, at least in public, that had lasted almost 25 years, and we would be first to play it anywhere.

We played that track at 10.29pm. By the time the segue of it and the following song, The Rolling Stones' Fool To Cry, was over, Twitter was already flickering with aghast stories that seemed to make no sense: a helicopter had apparently crashed onto a crowded pub in Glasgow. The Clutha Vaults.

I broadcast from my home in the Shetland Islands, but my producer Ravi Sagoo and senior producer Nick Low of Demus Productions, the company that makes Morton Through Midnight for BBC Radio Scotland, were both working from the BBC's Glasgow HQ at Pacific Quay, a couple of miles along the River Clyde from the Clutha. Twitter and Facebook are crucial aspects of the show's identity, allowing listeners throughout the world to participate, argue, suggest songs and generally become involved in the whole process of broadcasting. And the vibrant Scottish music scene is heavily represented in my own and the show's social media. A band, Esperanza, had been playing at the Clutha which is one of the city's most active small music venues. Amazing, shocking iPhone pictures of absolute clarity emerged quickly. Were they too clear? Was this some kind of movie shoot, or a hoax?

We played more music (the show has a particular bias towards Scottish pop, folk and rock, new and old, but plays quality music with a middle-aged bent from all over the world) but it was difficult to concentrate on the usual comedic conversational trivia of a Friday night (one theme was home brewing). More and more pictures and shocked eye-eyewitness accounts were coming in. Nick spoke to Martin Smedley, one of a handful of journalists across BBC radio and TV who were in the building so late, on what is usually one of the week's quietest nights. He was getting the same unconfirmed information. Sky News and BBC News 24 began carrying the Tweeted pictures, but again there was absolutely no official confirmation.

We had a live news bulletin imminent at 11.00 pm and it became apparent that this was no hoax, that something truly dreadful had happened. As Martin mobilised the news team in Glasgow, I pulled the comedy home brewing tales that were coming in and kept the introductions to records short. We began referencing the incident on our own Twitter and Facebook feeds. The 11.00 bulletin ran the story at the top, cautiously and rightly prefacing everything with 'reports are coming in' but brilliantly using the first, shocked telephone interview with Jim Murphy MP.

What to do next? Facebook and Twitter were going into overdrive and it was quickly clear that this was very, very serious. But there was still no official confirmation or anything yet from BBC reporters on the ground. We had a half-hour pre-recorded interview, heavily trailed, with the legendary guitarist and singer Dave Edmunds, which would run from about 11.15pm to 11.45pm. After discussions with news, it was decided to play that out, while the news gathering operation swung fully into action, and there would be an extended bulletin at midnight. I began reTweeting and Facebooking links to confirmed BBC Breaking News reports online.

I was reeling by that time as we were all aware of the Clutha and feared we'd know some of the victims too. After the 11.00pm news I just said I was shocked (“slightly shocked...disturbed...well, more than slightly...”) . That Dave Edmunds interview seemed hours long. Always, in the back of my journalistic mind, I was wondering (a) if we should be playing music at all, (b) how much should a music presenter say during a massive breaking story like this, and (c) how much could we trust the stuff coming in on Twitter?

Before and after the package (which gave our news folk the time to get reporters to the Clutha and to organise what quickly became a massive news gathering operation) I reiterated what we knew for sure and that there would an extended news at midnight. By this time one of the clearest dichotomies between Twitter and official news reports was the nature of the helicopter. Pictures online showed clearly that it was a police aircraft, but news outlets were hesitant. Retweeting the pictures without comment seemed enough, though I found myself referring to 'the crash of a police helicopter' while trailing ahead to the news...

The midnight bulletin had eyewitness reports, BBC reporter Andrew Kerr at the scene, what official confirmation was to be had and the detailed account of the helicopter's descent by The Sun's Gordon Smart . Glasgow-based staff were now covering the story for all BBC outlets in radio, TV and online and the demands on them were enormous. Now what for us? Pull the show from midnight and hand over to rolling news reports?

News settled on an extra bulletin at 12.30. We sifted through the music running order and extracted everything potentially jarring or offensive in tone or lyrical content. We began scheduling in calmer, longer, more instrumental tracks. Otis Redding first, and trailing ahead to the 12.30am news.

By this time we'd had one or two angry texts asking why we were playing music at a time like this, but many more praising the way things were being handled. This probably represented listeners who had tuned in only to try and catch up with what was happening, and those who regularly listen to BBC Radio Scotland at that time of night.

That last hour was very difficult. It seemed right to briefly comment on the seriousness of the situation and to segue tracks together, as well as constantly trailing ahead to news, while keeping the social media feeds up to date and relaying any confirmed information we could. The delay in any official number being made available for emergency information seemed interminable. On reflection, we did the best we could in trying circumstances. 

At 1.00 am there was I think an absolute model of responsible news reporting from BBC Radio Scotland: Proper, thoughtful choice of eyewitness reports, calm reportage, the facts and the right amount of background and colour. At the very least, the fact that there was music being broadcast beforehand provided the time for that to happen.

SATURDAY

By late Saturday afternoon, the scale of the tragedy was clear, official and political responses were in and the awful situation had stabilised enough for us to know that we would be broadcasting three hours of music that night. But what to play? And to talk about? On what was St Andrew's night?

To me, there seemed no choice: Glasgow is my home city and we should pay tribute to it, celebrate it, long for it, recognise its spirit and try and grieve with it. This had been a seven-nights-a-week live music pub, some of our regular listeners knew the place well, knew its owners and the bands who played there. Anything else would be disrespectful. But it was also St Andrew's night and the notion we'd had previously of playing lots of records by people called Andrew might still work, if toned down.

I began looking for songs about Glasgow or from Glasgow musicians. Co-incidentally, my former colleague at The Scotsman, the London-based writer Audrey Gillan, posted a link to her own Glasgow playlist on Spotify and notably the Billy Connolly song I Wish I was in Glasgow, performed by Iain Mackintosh. By the time producer Gregor Reid and I  were preparing the programme down the line between Shetland and Glasgow at 9.00pm, we had a rough running order worked out.

We started with Michael Marra's great anthem Mother Glasgow, performed by Hue and Cry. We ended three hours later with Frankie Miller singing Dougie Maclean's Caledonia. We had many responses and reactions to the tragedy from listeners. By the last hour, people were sharing stories about other St Andrew's nights they had known, and the mood was growing less sombre.

I suppose I've always seen these late night radio shows as the conversations I would have with a bunch of friends if they were all round at my house and I was in charge of the record player. Like any social gathering you respond to circumstances, talk seriously, laugh, cry, fall out and make up. Sometime you even let folk choose the occasional record themselves...

In the end, it's about community, I suppose. We talk, we listen, we love music, we play records. And music, is, of course, eternal.

Links:

Morton Through Midnight, 29^th November

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b03jfvkx/Morton_Through_Midnight_29_11_2013/

Morton Through Midnight, 30^th November: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b03jt7cy/Morton_Through_Midnight_30_11_2013/

Morton Through Midnight, 1^st December:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b03jtbqj/Morton_Through_Midnight_01_12_2013/

Bighugedogs: Bulletin #1 - prospect of cat

Twenty-two stones of St Bernard, in two moulting packages, currently adorn the red couch in the kitchen.

They are snoring. Well, five-year-old rescue mutt Rug is snoring, rhythmically. Lulu, who is 11 years old - ancient for a dog as enormous as she is - is dreaming, so she yelps, grunts and groans, twitching occasionally, all her past adventures with sheep, postmen, Historic Scotland building inspectors, seals and the Great Dane who lives next door (Baskerville by name) presumably bouncing around her enormous head and minuscule brain.

As she twists and turns in her sleep, the room shakes. As she breathes, the room wobbles, the air vibrates. Rug, poor soul, mistreated throughout her previous life, kept in a cage, battered and berated, makes less immediate impact, but is friskier when awake. And that can see tables upended, crockery smashed, and small children sent flying by an innocently wagging tail.

So this is what passes for quiet, with both dogs asleep. And they sleep a lot. I've known them collapse after their evening walk and not haul themselves from their various sofas (they favour four, the most comfortable in the house) until two the next afternoon. They are, thankfully, both continent. Only once, after Lulu managed to get at a bucket of used chip oil, drinking about four litres, did disaster strike, and a seriously soiled sofa had to be disposed of. She had the grace to be very upset. But not as upset as I was. Or the binmen.

In the morning calm, I regard the two dogs, and think about cats. I'm pondering a local advert: 'Wanted, feline mousekiller, housetrained, neutered, not viciously vengeful when aggrieved, non-allergenic, must like dogs. Very big dogs. Or at least put up with them. Also, must be robust.' We have killed, in this old house, 90 mice since the end of September. It is now mid-November. There are mousetraps in every corner, poison all over the place. The metallic aroma of rotting rodent is omnipresent.

Alas, the last kitty was killed by Lulu. Not in a frenzy of saliva-flecked violence, but because Lulu  fell asleep on top of the poor creature. He wasn't flattened, just somewhat squashed. And suffocated. Arnold - that was his name - had gone to sleep, ill-advisedly on a St Bernard couch. Perhaps the soft, warm underbelly of a dog was initially not too uncomfortable. Twelve hours later, though, the pressure and lack of oxygen had done for Arnie.

I'd approach the Cats Protection League for one of their surplus-to-requirements kittens, but is it fair to bring one into this dog-heavy (and heavy dog) environment? And how would the St Bernards feel?  Once you've seen two 11 stone dogs trying to chase a cat up a set of curtains, you don't easily forget.

Maybe I'll have another think about it. And let sleeping dogs lie.

Two gigs on the mainland this week: new whiskies, new songs, new guitars...

The Malt and Barley Revue hits the road again this week with gigs in Bo'Ness and Birnam, three brand new whiskies to taste, one or two new songs and a couple of guitars that fit my over-large hands rather better than the wee travel instrument I was using. Good as it was!

I'm looking forward to the show at the Bo'Ness Barony Theatre on Thursday 14 November - tickets still available. As In Birnam, (the Arts and Conference Centre) on Saturday 16 November, I'll be accompanied by Angus MacRaild from Whisky Online. Angus is a specialist in valuing old and rare whiskies, so if you have anything lying about in cupboard, cellar or loft, bring it along and he'll tell you how much it's worth!

He'll be guiding you through the delights of the three superb drams we have for your consumption. As usual, there will be songs, stories and a daft poems as well as the whisky. Oh, and signed copies of my new book A Whisky In Monsterville will be on sale - a rare chance to get hold of the print-and-paper version. Also the last few copies of Spirit of Adventure at a bargain price.

Tickets cost less than the price of three drams in a bar! Bargain!

Hope to see you there.

Remembrance: The tragedy of HMS Bullen and the bodies the sea returned

My editorial from this month's Shetland Life Magazine:

“To the world, he was just one. To me, he was all the world.”

November is the month of remembrance. Remembering the dead of not just two world wars, but the wars that have taken place since. The ones still going on. Those who left to serve and fight, but never returned, and those who came here to die. There were 78 recorded air crashes on or around Shetland in World War Two, many involving multiple fatalities.

And there were those given up by the sea. It’s something rarely mentioned or discussed, and awful to contemplate - the many, many bodies washed ashore here in the course of world War One and World War Two. But a cursory look at the stones in our cemeteries reveal the appalling numbers. The recent notices that have appeared on graveyard gates pointing out that Commonwealth War Graves lie within will perhaps have drawn folks’ attention to this for the first time. The ones in Eshaness and Hillswick drew mine.

There are other signs of death and destruction still visible. The remains of some of those air crashes, are, as this magazine has often pointed out, still lying on Shetland hills. You can see the solidified remnants of heavy bunker oil from long-lost convoys ingrained in outcrops of rock, and until quite recently a bale of raw latex, cargo from a sunken cargo ship, was used to hold down hauled-up boats at Heylor.

But the gravestones all tell stories. Notably the one on the front cover of this magazine, which you will find in the old Hillswick graveyard at the West Ayre - site of an ancient kirk, with nearby monastic settlements and a broch also indicated. A place which has always been special, probably always holy, for as long as humans have been here.

The story of Petty Officer NE Lown  centres on HMS Bullen, a Captain class Frigate built in the USA as part of the lend-lease scheme which saw a great deal of military materiel being provided for the use of British Forces in the Second World War. She was system built as a submarine hunter, welded together like the notorious Liberty Ships, and her crew, probably including PO Lown, travelled to New York aboard the Queen Mary to bring her back across the Atlantic. They had some adventures in the USA, some of which you can hear about in the voice of one of the crew members, Rating John Albert Hodge interviewed here http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/80020888 for the Imperial War Museum’s archives.

HMS Bullen - named for one Nelson’s commanders at the Battle of Trafalgar - joined the 19th Escort Group based at Belfast, and on 6 December 1944 she was off Cape Wrath, protecting a convoy which came under U-Boat attack. A torpedo from  U-775, commanded by Oberleutnant Erich Taschenmacher, hit her amidships, an explosion occured on the starboard side, just behind the funnel. The aft engine room and boiler room probably flooded immediately. The ship quickly broke in two, the forepart turning on its beam ends and the aft-section floating vertically Within an hour and six minutes, both parts of the ship had sunk completely. Ninety-seven men were rescued, many in a poor state from cold, injury or from inhaling oil. Seventy-two died. U-775 sank only the Bullen and one merchant ship. She was only at sea for a total of 86 days.

Erich Taschenmacher survived the war, surrendering U-775, which was sunk by the Royal Navy along with dozens of other empty U-boats. U-775 was used for target practice.

Petty Officer Norman Lown, aged 27 and leaving a widow at his home in Dover, Lilian Rose, was carried hundreds of miles to Shetland, along with three other HMS Bullen crew: Able Seaman Arthur Wealthall was buried at Eshaness, Leading Stores Assistant Francis Farrell and Leading Stoker Felix John Read  in Lerwick. PO Lown lies within the calling of the sea at the West Ayre, and the Eshaness light flares in the distance every night.

Lilian Rose's heartbreaking inscription, easily missed at the bottom of the stone, perhaps expresses the real cost of war, the true and eternal story of loss. And sums up why it is important that we remember, not just on 11 November, but always, the price that was paid by so many.

“To the world, he was just one. To me he was all the world. Always loved,deeply missed.”