I can’t stand the stuff. I got smashed on it as a teenager. My birthday, October 16th. I blacked out and woke up in my girlfriend’s mum’s front room, covered in sick. Then I remembered I had a court date.

The smell still makes me gag. It brings it all back. Like that morning standing in the dock for shoplifting. I didn't do it, but I couldn't drop my mate in it. Had to plead guilty with a banging head. The judge smiled and sent me to Strangeways for a Borstal Recall. Six months to sort my life out, he reckoned. That was my chance at the Merchant Navy gone. I groaned and told my mate to go give my Dad the good news. He did that, alright. He kicked the door in and robbed the meters while the old man was at work. I kid you not. I should have seen that coming, he had a record longer than both our arms.

Me and rum never got on. But the world didn't share my hangover. You hear the old rhymes in every pub. Whiskey makes you frisky, brandy makes you randy, rum makes you... well, you know the rest.

It comes from the Caribbean, tied up in sugar and slavery. But the bit everyone talks about is the Royal Navy giving sailors their daily tot.

The Navy started handing it out in 1655 when we took Jamaica. Beer went off in the heat. Rum didn't. It was a treat for the Sailors.

Forget the idea of rum sitting in barrels under a warm sun. That’s rubbish. They shipped it young and harsh, then dumped it into massive vats back in Deptford or Plymouth. Grey English skies. Cold wind off the river. Damp rotting the wood. The air smelling of dirty water and wet coal. It wasn’t a fancy recipe. It was whatever the Empire could scrape together. Heavy Demerara, sharp Trinidad, or whatever was going cheap.

Then they stopped dishing it out. July 31, 1970. Black Tot Day. The last ration at midday. Some sailors wore black armbands to mark the passing. The official reason was that modern ships had too many fancy machines. A drunk sailor could cause a real mess.

I didn't mind the research. It’s an interesting one. It’s not the story I wanted for myself though, but it’s one I'll never forget. Don’t let me put you off, just don’t offer me a glass. You can keep the rum. I’ll make do with a can of Red Stripe.