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From Military Service to Rum Making: How We Started Before We Were Ready

  • Mar 6
  • 3 min read

By Dan Freeman

Founder of Jerry Can Spirits


My wife has a lovely way of poking holes in my ideas. Not in a mean way, but more like she's saying, "Love, I think you might want to think this one through a bit more." She's become the voice of reason behind Jerry Can Spirits - the premium spirits brand I'm building that's trying to shake things up in the UK. While I'm deep in the weeds of spreadsheets at 2am, convinced I've finally cracked the code, she's over here asking the important questions: "Who exactly are our customers?" "Can we actually afford this?" "What makes our rum any different?"


She never officially joined the company, but honestly? I wouldn't have made it without her.



For years, the idea of starting a spirits brand would come up in our late night chats. Me and my mates - all of us veterans like me - would get together and before you know it, we'd be talking about making our own rum. Usually at some ridiculous hour of the morning, often after one too many drinks, and always ending with the same result: a great chat, followed by nothing much happening.


Then one day, something just clicked. I looked around and said, "Blimey, we've been chatting about this for years. We either get on and do it, or we just stop talking about it."


That was the spark that got us going. And once that spark caught - there was no going back.


The early days were a bit of a struggle. After twelve years in the Royal Corps of Signals, I had loads of experience managing complex projects under pressure - but zero experience in business. And to make matters worse, I quickly figured out I didn't even know what I didn't know. There was a mountain of learning ahead: alcohol regulations, tax rules, licensing requirements, negotiating with suppliers, getting our labels right, all the packaging & marketing stuff. The military had prepared me for a lot of things, but this? Not so much.


So I just did what any normal person would do: I started anyway.


Being a one-man band in a home office at midnight, struggling to understand labelling regulations, hoping to God you've got them right, that's what bootstrap entrepreneurship is all about. It's about funding yourself because you believe in it, even when no one else does yet. It's unglamorous, exhausting, and humbling at times. But that scrappy start forces you to be resourceful and builds a resilience you can't get any other way.


We're still working out of my home office, trying to keep all the operational stuff and supplier discussions under control on a shoestring. But we're making real progress. Our first expression has just been given the thumbs up after multiple rounds of samples. We've got trade shows lined up. The website is live and growing. Every tiny win feels enormous because we know exactly how much blood, sweat and tears went into getting there.


As I like to remind myself: this isn't some massive corporation with teams of people behind it. This is us, sitting in our home offices, building something from scratch. And that authenticity matters. Customers are fed up with faceless corporate brands.


They want to meet the people behind what they're drinking, and hear the story of the bottle. And ours is a story of friendship, stubbornness, and finally deciding to stop talking and actually do it.


We definitely weren't ready when we started. We're still figuring it out. But the important thing is, we're moving - and that's what counts.


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