When Other Half Brewing employees arrived at their Brooklyn headquarters on Saturday morning, February 8, 2020, they were greeted by a motorcade of beer lovers. Thirsty patrons begin lining up out the door the night before, dropping anchor in camping chairs next to coolers and wheelbarrows, and by nightfall the crowd has swelled to hundreds wrapping around the block. Little by little, they entered the cruise ship. It was a special release day.
That weekend marked Other Half’s 6th anniversary, and the world-famous indie beer maker was celebrating with the debut of 10 limited edition beers, including bottles of bourbon barrel-aged Bananaversary Imperial Stout and All 6.th Anniversary Everything Chocolate Peanut Butter Crunch Granola Stout are both highly acclaimed and popular beers. Enthusiasts began to refer to their great white prey as “beer whales.”Staff opened the floodgates at 9 a.m. Even though more than a dozen cashiers were swiping credit cards and issuing receipts, the onslaught didn’t subside until well after 3 p.m.
Within a few days, the hunting party was really over.
“We used to have huge lines the week before the pandemic, but the lines disappeared overnight,” said Andrew Berman, co-founder and chief operating officer. the other half. “The on-premises business hasn’t recovered yet. Now, releases like stouts, IPAs, and collaborations rarely sell out instantly.”
The other half is not alone. Brewers and beer professionals across the country say they’re witnessing a similar shift in the search for and sales of the most coveted labels. So, did COVID-19 wipe out the great white whale? Was the species hunted to extinction? It’s not perfect, but the combination of the pandemic, the resulting economic downturn, and pre-COVID changes that were already beginning to impact craft beer means that these beers will be produced, released, and harpooned by hunters. The method has changed.
“Maybe the basement is full.”
For more than a decade, Whaling has been in business from Other Half to Cigar City Brewing in Tampa, Florida, St. Louis’ Side Project, Russian River Brewing Company Located in Sonoma County, California. Breweries simply announce dates on social media and can safely rely on hundreds, if not thousands, of eager Ahabs to snap up every last drop of their barrel-aged stouts and small-batch IPAs. (in some cases, $2 per ounce). Fans took these trophy bottles home, proudly showed them off on Bottle Share, stored them in their cellars, and rated them on Untappd, RateBeer, or Beer Advocate. Sometimes, fans would trade or resell them online (often with a hefty markup, sometimes exceeding $1,000), and secondary “grays” would be sold among whalers in faraway places. A market was formed and the obsession grew even more.
The first impact the pandemic had on the industry was the virtual elimination of taproom lines. Breweries will either limit capacity or close completely. People no longer want to crowd on sidewalks and parking lots, even when allowed. Desperate to survive, beer companies started selling online.
Shuttered tasting rooms also led most brewers to packaging, and those that were able to do so also expanded their distribution and direct shipping capabilities. Some breweries are cutting back on production of expensive imperial stouts to cut budgets. Some doubled down, hoping to recoup their costs. For example, Three Floyds’ Zombie Dust Pale Ale, once considered rare outside the Chicago metropolitan area, is now sold in 19 states. The founder’s KBS (Kentucky His Bourbon Stout), which debuted in 2003, quickly earned him perfect 100 points on RateBeer and Beer Advocate. Previously released only in April, it is now brewed year-round in all 50 states by the Michigan-based beer company. Boston’s Trillium produces some of the most popular IPAs and stouts anywhere, and currently ships directly to nine states and the District of Columbia. The Other Half is currently distributed in seven states. “Now you can see our beer in a lot more places, and the hype has lessened,” Berman says.
And, of course, the pandemic shutdowns were followed by economic hardship, which dripped onto every consumer like thick pastry stout. Chris Karev runs Rare Beer Club, an online mail-order service that finds hard-to-find beers for customers. He’s a kind of contract whaler, the perfect ally for beer geeks without a herd. “2020 and 2021 were record years,” Karev said. “Then it started to decline gradually. Inflation. Costs went up on all items, so prices had to go up to stay profitable.” Meanwhile, consumers had less disposable income to spend on premium beer. ing.
It seems that belt tighteners are also available on the secondary market. Phil Wymore, co-founder of Perennial Artisan Ales, said that prior to 2020, people outside his St. Louis taproom were looking for barrel-aged Abraxas and a bottle of Maman, Perennial’s barrel-aged imperial stout. Up to 700 people were reportedly waiting in line. “If you ask any brewery that made a bottle that had a lot of hype, it’s definitely on the decline,” he says. “I used to hear a lot of outrageous stories about Maman’s secondary value, which at one time was up to $1,000.” Maman 2023 costs just over $100, compared to the release price of $40. “Maybe everyone’s basement is full.”
“Gen Z isn’t chasing whales.”
At the same time, craft beer continues to grapple with challenges that began plaguing the industry years before quarantines and occupancy restrictions. The idea is that younger generations don’t drink much, and even if they do, they don’t drink beer.
“Our demos are 40 to 60 years old now,” Burman says. “When we started 10 years ago, they were 32 years old and didn’t have families. We have regular customers who say they can’t stand in line anymore because they have to take their two kids to soccer practice. As we grew up, Gen Z stopped chasing whales.
Today’s beer drinkers, young and old alike, are broadening their taste profiles. they want something new. Additionally, Whale’s common heavy beers — 15 percent barrel-aged stouts and 8.5 percent hazy IPAs — are a bit outdated among health-conscious drinkers and those concerned about extra calories. You don’t necessarily want to splurge on a drink or two.
Still, even if the ocean is murky, the whales stay put.
“I don’t think whaling itself is over; we’ve just made it more convenient,” Wymore said. “The move to an online lottery system has increased convenience for people. It’s easier to explain to your wife that you don’t have to line up for hours to buy a $50 beer, which now seems ridiculous. I think so.”
Wymore says the company is no longer just focused on one or two barrel-aged whales. Instead, Perennial has expanded its portfolio, both in terms of barrel-aged products and other styles. However, the demand for BA Abraxas and Maman still exists. Berman agreed, noting that the other half’s smaller runs are still fast. “Some of the most hyped things are still being heavily promoted,” Berman said. “This is a new world and we’re adapting as best we can. We know there’s no way there’s going to be a line of 500 people when we open on a Saturday morning. So we’re adapting as best we can. We’re making it as easy as possible for you to order.”
Having a week to claim your prize certainly saves time, but it also takes away from the festive feel of a first-come, first-served release event. 3Floyd relaunched his legendary Dark Lord Day, welcoming thousands to celebrate his one-day-only release of the eponymous Russian Stout, complete with a metal band. Side Project still hosts street parties to launch some of the biggest labels. But there are fewer and fewer places where like-minded pilgrims can socialize, share a beer from home or open a freshly bought bottle. Whales may not be an endangered species, but large-scale beer releases could very well put them on the brink of extinction.
