Fog. Thick, cloying, damp fog, silent and sinister, surrounded us. Despite being only few hundred yards from Dartmouth castle, we immediately felt as lost and isolated as if we were in the middle of the Atlantic. And it was not a nice feeling. We had taken APPLETON RUM away from her moorings for a shakedownContinue reading “Blog 112. Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah”
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"A Very Vintage Chap..." 