Cayman Tortuga

Wrapper: Ecuadorian Connecticut and Mexican San Andrés
Binder: Nicaraguan
Filler: Nicaraguan
Size: Perfecto (6 x 58)
Strength: Medium → Full
Body: Medium-Plus → Full
Price: $24.00 per cigar; $240.00 for 10 cigars, United States, USD
Factory: Tabacalera Familia Disla S.A., Nicaragua
Blenders: Scott Haugh(?) (Cayman) / Esteban Disla
Release: May 2026; limited to 250 boxes of 10 cigars
Smoking Time: 1:45
Experience Rating: 98

If your local shop carries Cayman, and they’ve got any Tortugas, buy ’em up.

I purchased two cigars at the Cayman launch event at my local shop. I should’ve bought more, or even the whole damn box. Only 250 boxes were produced.

I’m hoping Cayman reconsiders that decision because the Tortuga deserves to be a regular-production cigar. It could even be their flagship. But with that small a production run, I feel like I’m back in high school pining over a crush. I could talk to her, but I knew I had no chance, only to find out years later that she liked me too.

Ugh!

And that’s how I feel after smoking the Tortuga. Everything about it is beautiful, from its physical appearance to the way it smokes, making me want it even more. But it’s virtually impossible to get.

I just called my local shop, and they’ve already reached out to Cayman to see if they can get more. I have a feeling they’re not the only retailer asking. Maybe that demand will convince Cayman to release another batch. I hope so, because next time I’m pushing my way to the front of the line.

Synopsis

The Tortuga begins with immediate energy and steadily expands in body, flavor, and activity. Its middle is broad and highly animated, with elements cycling across an expansive core. As the perfecto narrows, the profile compresses and its tempo increases, producing repeated waves of strength and intensity before settling into a darker, denser finish. The Connecticut section at the nub briefly lightens the profile before the San Andrés delivers one final surge.

This is one of the most visually interesting cigars I’ve ever smoked. I love the perfecto shape, but the dual-wrapper construction gives it a character all its own, especially with that decorative, shaggy head.

The shaggy head serves two purposes. It completes the cigar’s elaborate presentation, but it also exposes the filler tobaccos, allowing you to smell them directly.

As far as aromas are concerned, the wrapper doesn’t reveal much. There’s some hay, earth, and a hint of dried fruit. But the shaggy head is rich with dried apricot, teak wood, and cedar.

I clip the cap just above the crease beneath the shaggy head and light it up. I’m greeted with a strong dose of cedar and pronounced fruity sweetness on the first puff. Then a delicious progression unfolds, bringing white pepper, black coffee, cardamom, sage, and toasted hazelnut. A gentle pulse of spice punctuates the finish.

It’s immediate complexity, with strength at medium and body just shy of medium-plus. With that onslaught of flavors, I know this cigar isn’t messing around. I feel like I’m sitting at the top of the old Tower of Terror at Disneyland, waiting for the car to drop.

As the cigar settles, more flavors accumulate while others cycle through: dry earth, charred cedar, black coffee, leather, cardamom, rosemary, black pepper, toasted hazelnut, green bell pepper, and San Andrés sweetness.

The spice continues to pulse as strength notches up and body thickens to medium-plus. Activity reaches medium-plus as well, with so much moving through the profile that I’m already struggling to keep track of it all.

As the cigar progresses, I start to feel the nicotine. A light cream arrives and envelops the profile. It doesn’t mute anything, but it helps ease the effects of the nicotine.

At this point, I notice the burn line. It’s razor-sharp. I used a torch to light the cigar, and it stayed straight all the way to the nub without a single correction. That’s rare in a perfecto, and it speaks to both the Tortuga’s construction and the skill of the roller.

The aroma off the foot is intoxicating, filled with toasted nuts and sweetness.

The accumulated flavors begin dancing around my mouth. I feel like I’m watching a formal Viennese waltz. The dance floor has to be expansive to accommodate the distance the dancers travel. There’s plenty of space within the profile for the flavors to move freely as more dancers arrive: sweet bread, caramel, and white chocolate.

Spice asserts itself, seeming to increase the tempo. Strength moves to medium-plus while the body thickens, and activity creeps toward full.

This is just the first half.

As I hit the halfway point, the dance is in full swing, and I finally notice the dance floor: light black coffee, caramel, and cream. That’s when I realize the cream didn’t so much wrap the profile as define the space.

A sweet, floral essence arrives, brightening the mood. Herbal notes of sage, rosemary, and thyme enter the fray, followed by sweet carrot and yeasty bread. The body thickens with their arrival, while the spice continues to pulse like the band setting the tempo. Strength remains at medium-plus. There’s a lot of movement, and the profile is crowded, but it remains amazingly well-organized and articulate.

In the home stretch, the profile compresses, forcing everything closer together. The pulsing spice intensifies and quickens, and the flavors seem to accelerate with it. They begin bumping into one another as groups cycle back through: white chocolate, cedar, and caramel; then cardamom and rosemary; then earth and leather. The combinations become difficult to track.

The spice backs off and stops pulsing. Toffee moves onto the finish, providing a welcome emotional lift. The herbal notes recede into the background, flashing like a beacon in the distance, while rich San Andrés sweetness attaches itself to the core.

Then the strength wanes. It rises again, recedes, and returns.

This isn’t pulsing. It moves like a tide.

I’ve experienced individual waves before, but never a repeating series like this.

Finally, strength builds to just past medium-plus, while the body continues to thicken and activity peaks just shy of full. I’m almost as mentally exhausted as I was with the Southern Draw Manzanita, and I still have more than a third of the cigar left to smoke!

In the last couple of inches, the dance tempo slows. Cream continues to thicken, and the profile becomes denser. It remains articulate, but the sweeter elements have left.

Strength recedes again as the herbal notes step forward from the background, joined by a delicious green peppercorn. The spice is still pulsing, but at a slower tempo. I’m already swooning from everything that came before when the nicotine begins to build again.

That’s when I realize the tidal action never stopped. Strength continues to rise and fall beneath the profile, only now the cigar is adding weight and density. Body reaches full, strength climbs toward it, and activity eases slightly as the movement consolidates around the core.

The profile is now governed by darker elements: rich, loamy soil, charred hickory, burnt toast, and espresso. The dance hasn’t ended, but the floor has grown smaller and the remaining dancers are moving closer together.

By the final inch, the profile is thick and dense. Spice settles onto my lips and continues holding everything up as strength and body reach full. The band seems to be packing up now. Activity drops, but that isn’t a negative. After all that movement, the cigar is finally beginning to settle.

The core and darker elements remain as the profile continues to darken. Spice intensifies without ever becoming overwhelming, and the cigar holds its structure all the way through. There’s no collapse, no muddiness, and no sense that the Tortuga has exhausted itself.

Then I reach the nub and move into the Connecticut wrapper.

Everything lightens.

Strength recedes, spice softens, and the body and density both ease. Fruity sweetness suddenly returns on the finish, followed by the herbal notes. I love this shift. The Tortuga doesn’t merely fade out; the wrapper construction gives it one final change in character.

But it isn’t done.

As the burn moves back into the San Andrés, the nicotine surges one last time, and the cigar finishes at full strength.

What an amazing cigar.

The Tortuga combines tremendous activity with a rich, fully populated profile, but it never loses organization or articulation. The flavors dance, accelerate, collide, regroup, and eventually settle, while strength moves in waves beneath them. Even the dual-wrapper construction proves functional at the nub, changing the profile before delivering one final San Andrés punch.

And the construction is every bit as impressive as the blend. The cigar burned straight from beginning to end without a single correction. At one point, it held a two-and-a-half-inch ash that I had to physically remove because it refused to fall on its own. That kind of performance is rare in any cigar, let alone a perfecto this elaborate.

After an hour and forty-five minutes, I’m mentally exhausted, slightly nicotine-swooned, and completely enamored.

Only 250 boxes were made.

Ugh.