HOW A KID WHO LOVED CALCULATOR WATCHES BUILT A WORLD-CLASS WHISKEY BRAND

It started with a watch… Not just any watch—a Casio calculator watch.

When you’re a kid in the 90s, the height of sophistication was having a Casio calculator watch strapped to your wrist. It wasn’t just a timepiece—it was a portal to a world where numbers and technology met, where the future felt just a few button presses away. Andrew Fitzgerald, the Founder and Director of The Gospel Whiskey, remembers it well.

“Calculator watches. When I was a kid, it was what the cool kids could get, right?” he recalls. “This was around the era where Inspector Gadget had a phone in his watch, and the calculator watch was almost like that”​.

For a kid growing up in Adelaide, the calculator watch was tool which could be used to nail Friday’s maths test without studying all week. For any kid with this watch on your wrist, the possibilities were endless! That watch sparked something in Andrew. It wasn’t about collecting objects. It was about what it meant, what it represented. And in that small, plastic-cased piece of technology, he found a desire that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Years later, that curiosity would lead him from collecting sneakers and vinyl to shaping how the world looks at Australian whiskey. While Andrew’s story is not your typical Hollywood blockbuster, it is just as engaging with its laid-back notes that traverses nostalgia and human connection.

 

COLLECTING MEMORIES NOT POSSESSIONS

Andrew never set out to collect things—he always focused on the experiences. Objects, to him, were markers of time, tangible reminders of moments lived, and emotions felt. They weren’t trophies or investments. They were pieces of a personal timeline.

“I think one of the driving forces behind collecting is a want to relive a previous experience or to create a future one,” he explains​.

Records weren’t just about the music. They were about the journey—digging through piles in a basement, stumbling into a neighbourhood in a foreign city, following an instinct until it led to something rare. Sneakers weren’t fashion statements but symbols of a time in his life when they were just out of reach. Later, he bought the ones he had dreamed of, not because he needed them, but because they completed an unfinished story.

And then there were cars—specifically, Valiants. Andrew grew up in the western suburbs of Adelaide, where Valiants were more than just cars; they were cultural icons. “The area I grew up in was predominantly Italian and Greek, and there was a real love for Valiants amongst that community,” he says​. 

That love never faded. As soon as he could, he bought one. Then another. And another. He still owns a few today, each carrying a different memory. “I remember seeing a VC V8 in front of a fish and chip shop in Henley Beach and thinking, this is the car I need to have,” he recalls. 

But the most meaningful moment came when he took his young son for a drive in one of his Valiants. “He was around five or six, and now he calls it his car,” Andrew laughs. “It’s a good vibe”​.

Whiskey, though—whiskey was all of these things combined. It was nostalgia, patience, discovery, and craftsmanship in a glass. And just like with sneakers, records, and cars, it was never about possession. It was about the experience.

 

 

MOONSHINE AND HOT CHICKEN

The Gospel Whiskey can trace its origins back to a conversation over drinks, like many good things do. “We were having a drink once, and I said, ‘I’d love to know how to make whiskey,’” Andrew recalls​.

His mate Ben, a South Carolina native, had the perfect answer. “He showed me photos of his still back home, and I was like, well… I can weld. I’ve got a garage. Let’s have a crack at this.”

That was 2013. They built their first still in a small garage in Carlton—a crude, handmade contraption that was an experimental step into the unknown. At first, it wasn’t about selling anything. They weren’t even thinking about making money. They were just making whiskey and figuring things out as they went along.

The first actual exchange came not in cash but in food. “I was down at a pub called The Astor in Carlton, and I ran into this guy starting a hot chicken joint,” Andrew says. “He said, ‘Bring some down.’ So I did. And suddenly, I was swapping moonshine for hot chicken”​.

There was something about it that felt great. The trade, the barter, the idea that whiskey could be a currency, that it could buy experience. But as their operation grew, the weight of reality set in. “When we started getting to the volume of four or five litres a week, I started to panic about its legalities,” Andrew laughs about the odd situation he found himself in​.

They had a choice: shut it down or turn it into something tangible. It could have been the moonshine speaking, but regardless of what influenced Andrew’s decision, he decided to make the operation legit.

With his Casio calculator watch ready for emergency math problems and his curiosity to create something meaningful, the garage operation became a full-fledged distillery. From humble beginnings, The Gospel Whiskey has become a beacon brand promoting Australian whiskey globally.

 

 

IT’S TIME FOR A WHISKEY

Time is a quiet force. It moves forward relentlessly and indifferently, shaping everything in its path. It wears down mountains, turns vinyl crackles into familiar melodies, and transforms raw spirit into something rich, deep, and worth savouring. Some try to master time, breaking it into schedules, deadlines, and goals. But whiskey teaches a different lesson: time cannot be controlled, only respected.

Andrew understands this intimately. Whiskey, at its core, is a conversation with time that cannot be rushed. “I think the skill of whiskey is patience,” he says. “In the era of eBay and the digital world, patience has been diluted. We want instant gratification.”

Instant gratification has no place with whiskey, it only reward patience. It doesn’t care about your calendar or your ambitions. It works on its own terms, in its own time. In the stillness of a barrel, something remarkable is happening. The raw spirit breathes in oak and takes on the character as it softens and deepens with experience. There is no rushing this process. A bottle pulled too early is thin, immature and ultimately forgettable.

“Last year, we only released two single-cask bottlings,” Andrew explains​. “We were meant to release our third. We still haven’t released it to this day because until it’s ready, it won’t hit the market”​. It is a discipline that demands restraint. Whiskey takes years to reach perfection, but when it’s ready, it’s worth it.

When the moment finally comes—when the barrel is opened, when the glass is filled—you are not just drinking whiskey… you are drinking time itself.

The best things don’t happen overnight. They take time. They demand patience. They ask you to wait, trust, and believe that what you’re building is worth it.

And with that said… it’s time for a whiskey!