Holy Moly, it’s the mother of all historical and archaeological discoveries. The Ark of the Covenant? Nope. Hammurabi’s Tablets with all his laws intact? Nah. A fully intact version of the original Magna Carta? Pfffft. Trifles…all of them mere trifles. No my friends, this discovery by far surpasses anything uncovered by researchers since Tutankhamen’s tomb.

I’m referring, of course, to Shackleton’s booze.

It’s probably the most sought-after scotch in history – crates of whiskey buried in Antarctica by the famed explorer Ernest Shackleton a century ago. He abandoned them on a failed attempt to reach the South Pole in 1909, and they’ve been on ice – literally – ever since.

Researchers from New Zealand found the crates while restoring a hut Shackleton built and used during the expedition. He and his team were forced to cut short the trip and abandon supplies, including their booze, to sail away before winter ice trapped them there.

The New Zealand team first spotted two crates underneath the hut’s floorboards in 2006, but they were too deeply embedded in ice to be salvaged. Researchers returned to the site this past week, and finally extracted the crates after drilling into the ice around them. The surprise was that there were three more crates than expected – one more of whiskey and two of brandy.

The second trip was backed by the same Scottish company that distilled Shackleton’s whiskey, Mackinlay’s Rare Old Scotch. It could be the longest booze run in history. The Whyte and Mackay distillery hopes to replicate the whiskey, which hasn’t been made in a lifetime after the original recipe was lost.

OMFG. I would happily slaughter my own family for one of those bottles.

As it turns out, much of the stash was lost (*sheds tears in remorse*) due to the cold. You see, alcohol does freeze solid if subjected to temperatures below 100 degrees Fahrenheit - not uncommon in Antarctica. But that applies to pure, 200 proof ethanol…scotch whiskey is only 80 proof, which means it’s only about 40% alcohol and therefore will freeze solid at a temperature of only 20 or so degrees below zero.

The researchers could actually smell the whiskey in the melting ice after they retrieved the crates. Obviously, many of the bottle simply burst from the pressure of the liquid which expanded as it turned into a solid. Fortunately, some of the bottles are intact and this is where it gets interesting - at least from a marketing perspective (and my professional background was in marketing).

Odds are that Whyte and Mackay will claim the salvage rights to the remaining bottles of scotch and brandy. I suspect that one of the bottles will be given to a research facility for gas chromatography and other molecular analysis to reverse- engineer the formula. Other bottles will be placed in a safe. Still others - the best-looking of the lot - will likely be cleaned up and auctioned off at Sotheby’s. I expect they will fetch no less than $15,000 per bottle.

Once the formula has been calculated, the distillery will brew a huge batch of the new scotch and promptly sequester it in the oldest charred oak barrels they have on hand, where it will age peacefully for the next twelve years.

At that time - if they have any brains and if Western civilization still exists - they will announce a new line of scotch whiskey: Shackleton’s Reserve - a limited edition, 12 year old scotch based on the old formula taken by the great explorer himself to the Antarctic. It could easily sell in America for $100 per fifth.

Geez Louize, I’d give one of my gonads to be a member of that marketing team.

As for what the future holds for Shackleton’s whiskey, there are international treaties preventing the removal of artifacts from Antarctica, but Paterson wrote on his blog that he hopes to get his hands on at least a sample of the whiskey, if not a couple bottles.

“What you all want to know is: How will it taste?” Paterson wrote. “To which the answer is: Cold.”

I beg to disagree with Mr. Paterson’s prosaic and, frankly, rather stupid answer. I can tell him right now it will taste like Heaven. And I’d happily endure Hell for just one jigger full.