Thirteen Years, Two Continents, One Tiny Room
When failure in Chile became five medals in Japan
Hey, I'm Casey. Thanks for reading our newsletter. Today we're doing something different. Instead of my usual updates from our remote volcanic island, I'm handing the substack over to Javier, our Head Distiller.
What follows is a touching part of his story: one that spans thirteen years, two continents, and involves two grown men in a tiny Osaka hotel room. It's about the long road to making award-winning whisky, but really, it's about something more.
This is Rishiri Whisky.
Hand in Glove
Some moments in a distiller’s life are worth bottling, not for their taste, but for the friendship, pride, and history they hold. This is the story of one of those moments, shared in a tiny Osaka hotel room with my friend and mentor.
It’s me, Javier. It’s been a long time since I last wrote something here.
Today is not about the daily challenges we face in the northernmost, and most beautiful distillery in Japan.
This story begins with a sprint. A short but intense trip to Osaka: changing subway lines, switching airports in Sapporo, racing to catch the last rapid train at Kansai Airport. Exhausting, but worth every step.
I was going for a special reason. My dear friend and longtime mentor, Anthony Marinese, was part of the Peru pavilion at the Osaka World Expo. Yes. An American in the Peruvian pavilion. He was presenting his latest creations: a corn spirit and a gin.
Anthony and I go way back. Thirteen years ago we decided to start a distillery in Chile. No business plan. No equipment. Everything had to be imported. We worked from different sides of the world. He trained at Kings County Distillery in New York while I stayed in Chile sourcing grains, negotiating with sellers, and hunting for any tool or part we needed.
We built something original: a whisky made entirely from Chilean grains, aged in small barrels we re-coopered from ex-wine casks. It was an incredible, chaotic adventure - no money, constant challenges, and a society that thought we were crazy. In the end, I learned how to do everything: from sourcing materials to making whisky, to running a company and making tough calls.
Eventually, we dismantled the project when I came to Japan. For a while, it felt like failure - to me, and to those I cared about. But time works like maturation. That reckless idea became my school, and I’d graduated as a distiller, and, more importantly, as an entrepreneur. Without it, I wouldn’t be here today, crafting a multi-award-winning spirit: five medals1 in a single year 👏👏👏👏2.
That night in Osaka, I had a surprise for Anthony. We met in my tiny APA hotel room3. First, we sampled his gin - aromatic, precise, made to be sipped neat or over ice. Then his moonshine - subtle, easy to drink, a true expression of sacred South American grains.
Finally, I pulled out my sample. He didn’t expect it. His expression turned serious. He closed his eyes and tasted.
“Smooth. Silky. Great aftertaste.” Then came a smile. “Caramelized sugar.” He said it was going exactly where the good Balvenies go, even though it was less than three years old.
We had Morrissey playing in the background. His words, his pride, hit me hard. My eyes watered. All I could say was, “Thanks. It means a lot.”
Two master distillers, once crazy dreamers, now sharing a ceremonial moment. No photos needed. Just laughs, hugs, and the knowledge that we’d made it.
As Morrissey sings4:
Hand in glove The good people laugh Yes, we may be hidden by rags But we’ve something they’ll never have…
And now, more than a decade later, two distillers who once chased an impossible dream in Chile stood side by side in Dotonbori, Osaka. No glasses, no staged toast, just the neon lights reflecting off the canal, the hum of the crowd, and that same quiet pride we felt in the hotel room. The years had shaped us, but the friendship, like a well-made spirit, had only grown deeper with time.
Editor’s note (Casey): Our latest award is a Gold at the International Spirits Challenge: https://internationalspiritschallenge.com/
Editor’s note (Casey): Not that I'm counting, but I definitely have a spreadsheet. With graphs. Color-coded by competition prestige.
Editor’s note (Casey): The hotel room is approximately 11 square meters, which in Osaka terms is "spacious" but in American terms "a large closet." The perfect size for two grown men to have an emotional moment about grain alcohol.
“Both of us love The Smiths. It is so frustrating how an asshole and lazy fat Morrissey is now, so no chance to go together to his concert, it will get canceled anyway.“
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