Eagle Coffee Mug With Saucer in Art With Wings Hanging Off the Cup

The obsession began over seven years ago.  In 2006, I began at the Hampton Roads Naval Museum as a wide-eyed intern, set up to take on the new and fascinating world of naval history.  I idea the coffee mess at work was reserved for staff and volunteers only.  I did not feel comfortable partaking in the succulent brew until somebody told me I could.  When I finally got the dark-green light, I happily brought my coffee mug in the adjacent twenty-four hour period, eager to drink from the well all working class souls go to each morning.

This was my first experience with "Navy coffee."  It was hot and stiff.  Very strong.  The thickness of it closely resembled crude oil.  It tasted both wonderful and terrible at the aforementioned time.  Your mind can play a joke on you into believing anything.  When a supreme pot of joe is brewed, many of the volunteers would telephone call it "Point Bridge Coffee," recalling the nostalgia of long nights and many cups consumed.

Afterwards that first morning of coffee, I went to the break room to wash my cup and let information technology dry for the next 24-hour interval's angry fix.  As I washed out my cup, I felt the sting of glaring eyes from behind my dorsum.  I'grand certain whoever it was, they could sense my hesitation.  I turned effectually to see GMC Dana Martin, the museum'southward agile duty OIC.  He had a puzzled, concerned look on his confront.  Master Martin was grizzled and salty.  He was past far i of the saltiest sailors I accept ever met.  He grabbled my arm washing the cup.  My hesitation grew to fearfulness.  He leaned in close and told me to "never wash it once more," staring back down at my loving cup and back to me.  I looked at him, puzzled with fascination and atheism.  Although I drink my coffee blackness, my listen struggled to find reason in the do.

"I don't understand," I told him.  "I demand to clean my cup."  I was merely doing what I was taught.  Bills should exist paid on time.  Five minutes early on is five minutes late.  Coffee mugs should be washed out after use.  Simple, right? Wrong.  I held my  breath and found out just how wrong I really was.

He leaned in once more, this time more than relaxed (and less confrontational).  "I know you are but starting out here, but I want to let you in on a little secret."  He was nigh whispering.  "If you lot intend to stay here at the museum, you can impress the Navy guys with your mug."  He went on to explain to me the significance of an unwashed or "seasoned" coffee mug, peculiarly in the Navy Chief community.  "And keep it as tarry black as possible," he added.  "Sometimes it's the only mode you can drink this swill.  Simply you lot will grow to beloved information technology and depend on the taste."  I would never call up I would believe him.  Boy, was I wrong.

Old java in a cup signifies seniority and stature in the military, peculiarly on deployment.  As one blogger noted, "Yous may non be able to encompass your loved ones while you are gone, simply at to the lowest degree y'all can still taste the same coffee you drank the day you left."

To many in the military, this is nothing new.  Enquire anybody who served or is currently serving in the armed services, and they will likely give y'all a story most an experience involving the practice of "seasoning" their cup.  Navy Chiefs, however, are considered by many to exist the most Spartan of stalwarts to the unwashed coffee mug.  I spoke to some retired CPOs who counted 4 or five deployments on a single unwashed loving cup. The August 1949 edition of All Hands Magazine declared that java was the "Lifeblood of the U.Southward. Navy."  The article goes on to discuss why many sailors take their coffee so seriously.  The commodity opens with this paragraph:

The 1945 Cookbook of the Usa Navy lists several reasons why a clean mug and pot of coffee is essential to a flavorful experience.  All parts of the coffee mess had to exist "scrupulously clean," according to the cook book.  Sailors today might read those guidelines and laugh at the rules and regulations.

Several recent articles virtually the practice surfaced on the internet on message boards and military news blogs.  One blogger from the Armed forces Times (Broadside Blog) wrote about it this by August.  "There are but a few things you need to know about Navy java, and most of it involves the loving cup,"  the blogger writes.  "Y'all do not launder a Navy coffee loving cup. Ever."

I took Main Martin'due south advice, simply not at first.  For the showtime few weeks following our confrontation, I washed my cup out after he left for the 24-hour interval.  But I got lazy after a while.  I starting noticing nighttime brownish rings inside my loving cup.  My mug started to look like the inside of a tree, and I started to like information technology.  The mug was white, and then it was easy to measure my progress.

The rings grew larger and darker until the entire inside was jet back.  Although I was never in the military machine, I felt a swelling of pride at my Frankenstein creation.  Unfortunately, that mug did not survive.  My latest and greatest creation came nearly in 2009.  It has not been washed or cleaned since its buy.  I don't know if my peers understand it.  My wife surely doesn't.  I have a similar mug at habitation that she avoids looking at, and, on rare occasions, will clean when I am not looking.

Here is my (meager) contribution to this fine naval tradition.  I warn you, if you are unfamiliar with the practise, you lot might exist shocked.  Behold: My 4 year "seasoned" mug:

Do you have a similar story or an prototype of your mug?  Show it and share it here or electronic mail them to meng@navyhistory.org.

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