Udo Sonntag - A Journeyman's Journey - The Story of Jim McEwan

ISLE OF ISLAY

The Island of Whisky

© Alba-Collection Verlag 02/2021 · www.alba-collection.com

Reference

	Malt Distillery (working)
	Malt Distillery (closed)
	Port Ellen Maltings
	Other tourist feature
	Information centre
	Lighthouse
	Tidal area

I would like to dedicate this book to my wife Barbara, because without her support this journey would not have been possible.

To our two daughters, Lynne and Lesley, who have made every step of the way home worthwhile. Our sons-in-law David and Damien and our four wonderful grandchildren Lily, Beth, Eoghan and Ruaridh.

We as a family have been blessed in so many ways.

Jim McEwan

April 2021

The Story of

JIM McEWAN

Jim McEwan | Udo Sonntag

Prologue Prologue

1This is Where I Come From 1 This is Where I Come From

2From the Potato Holidays Into the Wild West 2 From the Potato Holidays Into the Wild West

3Follow Your Nose 3 Follow Your Nose

4Inspiring People – James McColl 4 Inspiring People – James McColl

5Davy Bell – Always a Penny in Your Pocket 5 Davy Bell – Always a Penny in Your Pocket

6The Lifeline of Islay – the Puffers 6 The Lifeline of Islay – the Puffers

75 O’Clock – Tea Time?

8Queen of Port Charlotte

9Arrival in Glasgow Bridgeton

10From Bridgeton to Bellshill

11Back to Bowmore

12Giving Something Back to the Community – Swimming Pool

13A New Era Starts

14Being on the Road is Not a Holiday

15Big in Japan

16With Suntory on Top

17Farewell From Japan

18Legendary Drams – a Piece of Home

19Don’t Mess With Jim

20Expensive Hangover

21Where Did it All Go Wrong For You, Jim McEwan?

22Judgement Days

23Bringing Cinderella to the Ball

24Soulmates – Duncan McGillivray

25Recruiting Allan and Adam

26First Drops

27The Botanist

28The Story of Ugly Betty

29Ursula

30Yellow Submarine

31Legendary Drams – Port Charlotte

32Legendary Drams – Octomore

33Legendary Drams – Black Art

34Legendary Drams – Space Mission Bruichladdich One

35Retirement?!

36Height of the Hollow

37Babylon Bags

38Highland Toast

39Thank You at the End

Mary’s Poem

Hall of Fame

Epilogue

List of Illustrations

To the whisky world he is ‘Jim McEwan’ but to me just Dad. Even now as an adult and seeing the positive impact he has had on the whisky world, I am exceptionally proud of his professional career but prouder of his personal one. We are a close family and for years Dad was the only man in the house with three women. He travelled a lot, especially during Lynne’s and my teenage years and I am sure at times he was delighted to get on a plane to escape the teenage angst, boyfriend chat and mood swings that come with two teenage daughters. Nowadays, the numbers have evened, with two sons-in-law in his corner that he can talk football with and walk the hills without any mention of PMT or dieting! Being a grandad (known as Pappe) is possibly his favourite role, as he gets to retell his stories and make up new ones, walk the places he used to take us as kids and then hand the grandchildren back to us when they get tired and grumpy, or he does!

Dad was a fun dad. Mum handled the day-to-day disciplining and raising of us, while Dad would work at the distillery and travel for long periods of time to many different countries. We did not know any different and while he was away we kept in touch with phone calls and awaited the arrival of the postcards he always sent us, which were inevitably full of nonsense and funny stories and always addressed to ‘Tiger mouse’ or ‘Scooter’ (I have kept them all, and they still make me smile to this day). On his return I remember the excitement at picking him up from the airport and listening as he told us tales of his adventures and the places he had been and holding my breath while he opened the suitcase to unpack, knowing that somewhere in there was a giant duty-free Toblerone just for me!

When at home, he was in charge of the bedtime routine. The success of this was always questionable as more often than not, we would end up more excited and wide awake than at the start. He would do Unstoppable Plod, where, slow and zombie-like, he would go from one end of the hall to the other, with Lynne and I frantically and by any means necessary trying to stop him and never succeeding. Super-hyped and excited, he would then try and calm us down with a bedtime story, but Dad’s stories were never from books – they were mostly made up and full of excitement and adventure, with just enough of the truth that we believed every word. When he would finish the story and wish us a good night, we would eventually drift off believing that we too could escape ten crocodiles if the need ever arose (unlikely, living on Islay!).

At weekends, Dad would take us out for walks, bike rides or horse riding on our horse Oliver. The walks would start off along one of the beaches and always involved the challenge of getting onto a rock before the next wave hit, often ending up on it for several minutes waiting for the water to subside enough to get back to the beach, or getting bored waiting and just jumping in! These walks would generally involve some perilous cliffside ascent, especially on a stormy day when we would plead for Dad to take us close enough to the edge that we felt the spray off the waves crashing into the cliffs, feeling a sense of pride when you got soaked the most as it meant you were the bravest!