This is a story about a single malt whisky which transports its lucky drinker immediately into the Caribbean: while outside the sun is setting over the sea, painting the water in a dazzling array of red, gold and ambers, the discreet aroma of a wooden pontoon sitting on the water drifts over. Then there are canapés and refreshments which the waiter in white carries on a tray over to the beach terrace. On our table, there is an assortment of glasses and plates, filled with slices of fresh pineapples, grapefruit halves, good cognac and little biscuits. After a large sip of cognac, a fresh smell of grass tickles the nose, no wonder, as someone is mowing the grass next to the terrace.