Cohiba Majestuosos 1966

Description

The engine of the El Cazador has a specific rhythm, a sort of rhythmic thumping that sounds like a heartbeat if you listen long enough. It’s an old 32-foot sportfisher my grandfather bought back when the world felt a lot bigger and a lot less crowded. Last Tuesday, I found myself out past the breakwater, the salt spray hitting my face and the smell of diesel and brine filling my lungs. It was the first time I’d taken her out since the old man passed, and the cabin felt heavy with his absence.

He didn’t leave me much in the way of money—the boat was his real wealth—but he left me a key to a small, climate-controlled locker at his club. Inside, tucked away like a state secret, was one of those lacquered humidors that looks more like a piece of high-end furniture than a box for tobacco. It was the Cohiba Majestuosos 1966. He’d told me once, over a much humbler smoke, that some things are meant for “the big quiet.” Sitting there on the deck, with the sun just starting to burn through the morning mist and the shoreline fading into a grey smudge, I realized I’d found my big quiet.

I sat on the bait well, the wood of the boat humming under my boots, and pulled the cigar out. You ever hold something and just know it’s got a story? This wasn’t just a cigar; it was a heavy, golden-brown weight in my hand that felt like it belonged in a museum, or better yet, in the mouth of someone who’d seen it all. I clipped the cap, felt the breeze shift, and struck a match. That smoke? The Cohiba Majestuosos 1966. And man, we need to talk about it.

The Specs

Construction: A Hefty Handful

First thing you notice when you pull this stick out of its resting place is the sheer girth. A 58 ring gauge is no joke. It’s thick, substantial—it feels like holding a piece of history. In my hand, it felt solid, with just the right amount of “give” when I squeezed it. You can tell this thing was rolled by someone who wasn’t in a hurry. The wrapper is a beautiful, oily Colorado shade, with very fine veins and a sheen that catches the light like polished mahogany.

The “Majestuosos” vitola is unique to this 50th-anniversary release. It’s not something you see every day in the Cuban portfolio. I spent a good five minutes just turning it over, looking at the way the light hit the gold bands. Before I even put flame to foot, I took a cold draw. I gotta say, it was like a trip to a fruit market in Havana. I picked up some definite peach and mango notes, backed by a weirdly pleasant cherry liqueur sweetness. There was a hint of dry raisin in there too, like an old box of Sun-Maids you’d find in a pantry. It was complex before it even started burning.

Flavor Profile: The Three Acts

The First Third: The Sweet Greeting

Lighting a 58-gauge cigar on a moving boat requires a bit of finesse and a triple-flame torch, but once I got it glowing, the first few puffs were a revelation. It started with a massive hit of cedar and leather—very classic Cohiba, but dialed up. What surprised me was the creaminess. It wasn’t just smoke; it felt thick, like heavy cream on the tongue. I caught some of those rum-like notes I’d smelled on the cold draw, mixed with a graham cracker undertone that made the whole experience feel very “dessert-adjacent.” It was a medium-bodied start, very smooth, very approachable, but you could feel the strength lurking in the background like a shark under the hull.

The Second Third: The Spice and the Shift

As I cruised further out into the Atlantic, the Majestuosos started to show its teeth. The creaminess took a backseat, and the coffee bean notes moved to the front. It became meatier, if that makes sense. It had a savory quality that reminded me of roasted nuts. But the real kicker was the retrohale. I took a bit of smoke through the nose and—bam—lemon zest. It was bright, citrusy, and followed immediately by an herbal note that I can only describe as fresh oregano or maybe even a bit of paprika. It wasn’t spicy like a Nicaraguan pepper-bomb; it was a sophisticated, tingly spice. The strength ramped up here, moving firmly into that full-bodied territory. I found myself sitting back, letting the boat drift, just trying to keep up with the flavor transitions.

The Final Third: The Heavy Hitter

By the time I got down to the final few inches, the cigar was firing on all cylinders. The espresso notes became dark and oily, battling it out with a distinct nutmeg flavor that stuck to the back of my palate. The finish was long—I’m talking 30 seconds or more where the flavor just sat there, reminding me of what I was smoking. Interestingly, the strength actually seemed to moderate a bit toward the very end, dipping back down to a medium-plus. It didn’t get bitter or hot, which is a testament to the quality of that Vuelta Abajo leaf. I smoked it right down to the nub, until the heat was warming my fingertips and the bands were long gone.

The Pairing: What to Sip?

Now, usually, I’m a coffee guy when I’m on the water, but for a cigar of this caliber, I’d reached into my grandfather’s “special” cabinet before I left. I had a flask of aged Cuban rum—something dark and syrupy. The sweetness of the rum played perfectly against the cedar and espresso notes of the Majestuosos. If you aren’t into spirits, a very strong, black Cuban espresso with a bit of brown sugar would do the trick. You need something with enough backbone to stand up to that 58 ring gauge, otherwise, the cigar is just going to walk all over your drink.

The Verdict

I’ve smoked a lot of cigars in my time, from floor-sweepings in Vegas to some of the rarest sticks in London, and I have to say, the Cohiba Majestuosos 1966 is a different breed. It’s not a “quick smoke while you mow the lawn” kind of deal. This is a two-hour commitment. It’s a cigar that demands you sit down, shut up, and pay attention.

Is it for everyone? Probably not. The size alone is going to intimidate some people, and the flavor profile is so busy it might overwhelm a novice. But if you’ve been around the humidor a few times and you want to see what Habanos S.A. can do when they’re really trying to show off, this is it. It’s a fitting tribute to 50 years of the brand. As I tossed the nub into the wake of the boat and watched it bob away, I felt a little closer to the old man. He knew what he was doing when he left me this one. It’s a solid, heavy-hitting smoke that doesn’t need to shout to be heard. If you ever find yourself with one of these in your hand, make sure you’ve got the “big quiet” to go with it. You’re going to want to remember every puff.

Final Thoughts: A powerhouse of flavor with a construction that’s as solid as a ship’s hull. It’s a complex journey from fruit to spice to dark espresso. If you can find one, and you’ve got the time, don’t hesitate. It’s an experience, plain and simple.