Wrapper: Mexican San Andrés
Binder: Nicaragua
Filler: Nicaragua
Size: Box-Pressed Toro (6 x 56)
Strength: Medium → Medium-Plus (home stretch)
Body: Medium → Full (nub)
Price: $10–$12
Factory: Tabacalera Familia Disla S.A., Estelí, Nicaragua
Blender: Cayman / Tabacalera Familia Disla (Daniel Lance, Esteban Disla)
Release: August 2025 (Regular Production)
Smoking Time: 1:50
Experience Rating: 92
The Cayman Doubloon is probably the most divisive cigar in the Cayman lineup.
There’s not much review coverage, but from what I’ve seen, the response has been mixed. Some like its profile, and others think there’s just not enough to it.
They’re not wrong.
I’ve smoked this cigar three times, and it wasn’t until the third time that I got it. At least for me, it’s not lacking in flavor, but it does require paying attention to what it’s doing.
Part of the confusion is that the blend stats scream dark-sweet San Andrés over Nicaraguan guts. But it’s clear that Cayman and Tabacalera Familia Disla had other ideas.
And what they came up with is pretty cool.
Synopsis
Strength, body, and activity all start at a steady medium level, then climb gradually through the middle, with activity peaking slightly ahead of the others. Strength continues rising into the final third, body follows closely behind, and activity begins to taper. In the last inch, strength reaches its highest point, body edges up further, and activity drops off, finishing with high strength and body but reduced movement.
The cigar has a matte finish with a light, oily sheen. Tiny flecks of crystallization glisten in the sunlight, and the veins are very light. It’s packed firmly with no soft spots.
The skin is toothy, but it’s a very fine tooth, almost like 800-grit sandpaper. You know it’s abrasive, but it isn’t super-rough.
The wrapper gives off a dark, rich tobacco aroma with an indistinct sweetness and a grounding earthiness. At the foot, it’s like opening a can of peaches. There’s also a little bread-like quality, along with that same earthy character. The cold draw brings fresh stone fruit, sourdough, and a touch of salt.
The first puff opens dark and rich with espresso, dark-roasted cacao, earth, charred cedar, and burnt sugar.
After a few puffs, the espresso and cedar settle into the thematic center while the burnt sugar moves to the front of my mouth. A light spice arrives at the roof of my mouth, then slowly oozes down the sides of my tongue like thick lava.
That background sweetness refuses to stay put. Sometimes it moves forward, sometimes up, and then it slips toward the back. The movement is unpredictable, and there’s a lot of energy behind it.
Strength is a nice medium, with moderate body and activity. The spice ticks up another notch, but this is still an unusually calm start for a Disla blend. Even so, the structure and organization are already there.
The Doubloon settles almost immediately after the first few puffs. That Disla structure always seems to set up shop right away. Espresso, cacao, earth, and charred cedar hold the center. The body thickens slightly, while strength ticks up just a notch as a bit of nicotine enters.
The spice moves forward and applies a forward and upward pull. Meanwhile, the background sweetness shifts to the back of my palate and lingers through the finish.
My previous experience with the Doubloon is that the cigar spends its early stages gathering itself and forming its structure. There’s not much going on, and I think this is where many people would start to wonder where the cigar is going.
But that will change.
As I progress in the first half, nicotine asserts a little more and pushes strength upward, though it still falls just short of medium-plus. Body holds where it was.
There still isn’t much complexity, but the core gives off an inherent energy. It feels like something is building underneath the surface. This is where the Doubloon starts becoming a bit of a mind-fuck. I’m expecting the familiar dark-sweet character of San Andrés over Nicaraguan guts, and it has that.
Kind of.
The core is dark, but the profile is unexpectedly different. Strength and body remain moderate, while the spice is gentle but assertive.
Near the end of the first half, complexity finally arrives. A gorgeous floral bouquet appears, followed by sweet bread that becomes more pronounced with a light retrohale. Then the savory notes come in: grilled meat, dried salty beef like carne seca, and grilled mushrooms.
At halfway, the internal energy continues to rise. Spice begins pulsing at the top of my palate as strength edges upward.
Then comes a transition of herbs and baking spices. Rosemary, sage, cilantro, cardamom, nutmeg, and mace take turns popping in and out before getting wrapped in a rich, deep San Andrés tobacco sweetness.
A malty cream enters and drapes itself over the profile like a light blanket. It doesn’t settle into the core so much as cover everything, and body moves up with it.
I don’t know why, but once that transition occurs, the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song pops into my head.
“Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate’s life for me.”
It’s spontaneous and completely unprompted by “Doubloon,” but now I’m getting the imagery. All these little notes feel like gems and doubloons being collected, and when the cream enters, it’s like they’re being bagged.
I can sense Daniel Lance and Esteban Disla’s playfulness coming through.
In the home stretch, nicotine continues to increase and pushes strength to medium-plus. Body does the same as the cream thickens. The core darkens slightly in response, but it still isn’t compressing. I can feel the energy rising even though the profile and secondary flavors haven’t changed.
Then a bready, cereal-like transition occurs, like the pirate has found a hidden room with more things to add to the bag of booty. Hawaiian bread, Cheerios, Special K, oatmeal, and quinoa begin appearing, with the quinoa bringing a textural quality along with it.
Beyond the pirate’s booty metaphor, I’m starting to see what Cayman and Tabacalera Familia Disla may have been trying to do. It’s almost as if they challenged themselves to construct a cigar with a darker tone that gives the illusion of thickness, but still delivers moderate strength and body with incredible articulation.
This isn’t a compressed Nicaraguan core at all. In fact, it smokes more like a dark, articulate, and composed Dominican.
There’s a lot of subtlety and nuance here, and I think much of it could be lost if you’re not paying attention. In a review I watched, some of the guys said this was the kind of cigar you could smoke with your buddies and not really care about.
I can see that, especially given the moderate strength and body.
And that’s the challenge with the Doubloon. It has a lot to offer, but unlike the other Cayman cigars I’ve smoked that declare themselves up front, you have to look for the Doubloon’s identity.
It really is like buried treasure. Once you take the time to find what it’s about, it’s beautiful.
In the last couple of inches, the core darkens further. Espresso moves to ristretto, the cacao becomes deeply roasted, and the cedar is all char now. Spice asserts itself and pulls harder on the profile. Strength notches up with it as nicotine continues to build, while body holds steady.
There’s still a lot of activity. The doubloons seem to juggle and jump inside the bag, like the pirate is running back to the ship with the booty tinkling and shifting over his shoulder.
It’s an interesting and amusing image.
In the last inch, the profile finally compresses, but there’s no muddiness. Strength pushes close to full, body thickens, and the activity begins to drop.
The secondary flavors seem randomly spread across the profile now, like the pirate has dumped the contents of his bag onto the floor.
At the nub, it’s all core with an empty bag of cream. Ristretto, burnt cacao nibs, earth, and cedar charcoal take over.
Strength never quite reaches full, but body finally does. There isn’t much going on now beyond the nicotine hit.
The pirate celebrates the bounty of his haul.
I can see why the Doubloon is divisive.
The first time I smoked it, I thought it was okay. I enjoyed it, but I was left wanting more. The second time, I paid closer attention and started to see some of what it had to offer.
It wasn’t until the third cigar that I really got what it was doing.
That’s the challenge with the Doubloon. You have to spend time observing it. Its identity isn’t missing, but it doesn’t declare itself up front.
You have to look for it.
I love what this cigar is doing, and I think it fulfills its intent beautifully. But if I’m being honest, the overall flavor profile isn’t one of my favorites in the Cayman lineup. I still like it, and my rating reflects that, but I’d probably reach for a Mariner before this one. That said, I’ve only smoked the Toro thus far. I’m going to try the Robusto and Gordo vitolas to see the differences.
Still, execution is execution, and the Doubloon earned its rating.
You can buy the Cayman Doubloon Toro at Cigars City. They also carry the rest of the core line of Mariner, Broadside, Monarch, and Sovereign.
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