The crew below deck is already three songs deep into a shanty nobody quite remembers the words to, while somewhere above, the ship's wheel creaks under a captain who picked this heading based on a rumor and a grudge. Warm salty sea spray, sea greenery and sun warmed driftwood roll in off the bow, meeting rich, fruity woodsy bourbon poured generously from a bottle that's seen more voyages than the ship's log admits. Briny and warm at once, this is a crew that argues constantly, sails anyway, and somehow always finds its way back to port with a better story than the one it left with.