Fathom V
Beaufort London (2016)

The opening of this fragrance is truly captivating with a photorealistic representation of a grassy forest. It transports you to a serene place with its fresh, green aroma. As it develops, you'll notice a subtle, earthy note that captures the essence of freshly snapped stems and a clean soil accord. It's not an animalic or heavy soil note like in some other fragrances, such as Figment Man, which makes it feel more refreshing and natural. The performance is surprisingly good for a green scent, so you can enjoy its lush greenery for a good amount of time. The dry down brings forth a beautiful aroma of freshly cut leaves with a hint of tartness. Overall, if you're a fan of green scents and love the idea of smelling like freshly cut vegetation, this fragrance is perfect for you.

Fathom V embodies the tenderest catharsis of grief in a bottle. What might you ask how would a fragrance do that, and moreover, why would someone want to be reminded of grief?

Grief is an inescapable part of life. Beauty and unconditional love is borne out of grief, it is the contrast that makes joy shine; without it, experience is flat. Fathom V is bereavement green. This is the green that is still detected during the waning autumn, the chrysanthemums just before they ripen and wilt, the leaves as they decay. Or it could be the very earliest thaw as spring commences. The smell of warming earth, crocuses and snowdrops, life unfurling from dormancy, the first bees retreating from their hives.

Death. Birth. Darkness. Light.

The most pronounced notes are this raw, vegetal, stemmy, somewhat bitter green, the smell of funeral flowers, and the soil from which everything grows from and decays into. A mimosa note and ginger just manages to prevent the experience from being so morose so as to be hard to stomach. Cumin is in the background, imparting a warm soul to temper the cold and the melancholy. An aqueous element seals it all. While in the dry down, a salty, rooty, somewhat metallic base is unearthed. Impermanence is the only constant.

Apparently, the brand presents this as an ode to "Ariel's Song" from The Tempest:

"Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange. – Ariels Song"

Such sturm und drang is rarely encountered in a fragrance. This is not for those who avoid introspection. If you dare to try it, you may just find how remarkable something so stark can be.

Fathom V is a different turn from Beaufort's usual dungeons, dragons and banshees, but it's every bit as unique. Here be flowers presented in a rush of cool, crisp, clear water – one is of it and yet one seems to perceive it from a distance as in a film of lilies being dragged under in a crisp and bubbly rush. Endearing green notes, sweet and somewhat barbershoppy, traces of soil that enrich the florals but take away nothing from the ‘clean' feel of this perfume and then those flowers – lilies in the main, but with the other elements playing upon them, bringing in suggestions of lily-of-the-valley and more herbal blossoms, like angelica, as well. Manages not to bore holes in the skull with its aquatics and a joy to wear.

First impression is of a hyacinth freshness, or rather a lilac freshness but there is nothing flowery about this totally masculine smell. In a nautical context it suggests old sailing ships - a mixture of tar, rope, and smoky oil lamps. The decks of this ship have been well scrubbed and the crew all use lifebuoy toilet soap. The well preserved timbers have benefited from a good soaking in creosote.

I salute this fragrance for its unconventionality, and it is difficult to compare it to anything else, but I will have go. The old wood aspect is somewhat suggestive of Relique d'Amour by Oriza Legrand, another very unusual fragrance reminiscent of the smell which greets you when you open the door of a classic car. There are echoes too perhaps of Navegar by L'Artisan Parfumeur, created to celebrate the success of the Portugese navy.

I don't know if I would immediately think of seagoing scenes however if I smelt it for the first time. More than anything it sparks off a nostalgic of the garden cabin which was my hideaway as a boy. Great fragrance, and that's for sure.

On this nondescript Sunday I browsed my stash of samples to find this, sent my way by a kind BN friend. I knew about Beaufort being a London based brand, but this was my first experience. Fathom V (strange name) starts off with dewy-grassy greens and florals on my skin, fresh and uplifting. Lily is the star flower, together with the greens, but then, after about a couple of hours, the greens calm down a little to reveal some musky-aquatic notes, lightly salted. This shapes the development and leads to the concluding dry down accord of Fathom V, as it becomes soft, fuzzy but perceptible. It exhibits an understated but persistent sillage - almost forming a hazy fragrant cloud about my skin which is quietly enjoyable.

I was initially prepared to write off Fathom V (again, strange name) as a decent but unremarkable green floral scent, but the dry down has moved me. It is more of a floral-green-aquatic rather than floral-aquatic, and the aquatic notes are very well done, not like calone at all but more salty, fresh and ethereal. I love how they are intertwined and together create a lush and sensuous dry down. It is less bright than Lys Mediterranee, and the lily is less striking next to Lys Fume and Une Lys. However, I feel this adds to the composition rather than being a detraction, as the balance is beautiful in the end.


3.5/5

This is an interesting one which left me slightly disappointed.

It opens with a mass of green notes - so much going on it's almost dissonant, but it just about manages to stay coherent. This plus an underlying sea / salt spine and you're dealing with something rather wonderful.

Unfortunately about 20 minutes in that all starts to move into the background and the overwhelming impression is of lily. Lots of lily, almost that overpowering heady rush you get going into a florists. Over time the lily falls away leaving the sea / salt and an underlying woodiness in the dry down.

It's definitely clever and a bit weird. It's skirting the feminine edge of unisex but it would be wearable for a man, particularly in hot weather. For me though I think the lily is a little too much.

One for another wear as it needs further exploration.