My Favorite Coffee Mugs

An old Navy friend, Robert Neely, and I spent long hours hanging out on the USS Reclaimer ARS-42 fantail. After engineering watches or during late evenings in port, we’d grab coffee and settle onto the chocks, ready to talk shop. We worked together for so long that we often knew what the other was thinking. If I ever showed up without coffee, a quick look was enough—I’d just say, “I’ll be right back.” Those early Reclaimer days set the tone for my relationship with coffee.  

Early in my working life, in the early 1980s, I avoided becoming a coffee drinker for as long as I could. I viewed coffee drinking then like smoking. I didn't want to become addicted. Yet those long nights on the fantail changed my mind. Now and for the past five decades, I'm hooked. Somehow, I convinced myself that I can't function without a morning cup of coffee to get me going.

"I'm back," I’d say, coffee in hand, letting Bob know I was ready to talk shop or simply pass the time. Those shared cups cemented our friendship. The best conversations happened over coffee as we tackled complex problems. Often, coffee led us to solutions we needed to get the job done.

Choosing a mug for my morning coffee is a challenge; my cabinets are full of mugs, each representing a time in life, a duty station, and friends from the Navy. Each mug reminds me of a unique story, tying memories of camaraderie and service to every cup. Thinking back, coffee fueled my creative thinking, but it was the “Java” in the cup that set us up for fun, good days, and critical thinking. My USS Reclaimer cup remains one of my favorites, reminding me of those times spent with shipmates during long shifts and shared laughter.

I remember one of our last coffee talks on the USS Reclaimer’s fantail with Robert Neely. The ship was being prepared for decommissioning, and most of the crew, including Robert, had new orders. As routines faded, the galley was closed except for the old coffee urn. No telling how old the coffee had been in that urn. That coffee wasn’t that great. Even in the hot Hawaii summer of 1991, Robert and I just nodded—time for coffee on the chocks.  

We sipped our bad coffee, talking about the worklist, future duty stations, and past adventures with the USS Reclaimer crew. As evening fell, an engineering Sailor with his seabag stopped to say goodbye before heading to the airport. Watching him leave reminded us that the Reclaimer's end was nearing. Robert poured out his coffee into the oil donut moored alongside, crumpled his cup, and said, “Life is too short for a bad cup of coffee.”