A Cup of Coffee to Remember

I was strolling on the streets of Edinburgh on a misty morning – back from the Golf Course – smiling, smoking my pipe in jubilant mood. The misty fog from the Anvil top of the Victorian buildings drew so many patterns in the figment of my imagination with colours of memoirs. As I passed the streets huddled with morning footsteps of the office going people, I stumbled across a chimney that billowed a steam of coffee brew from one of the Cafés on the side of the street. I closed my eyes and savoured the aroma to my heart’s content and smirked to myself as it drifted me years back to my days of thunder. An old man standing at the middle on the road is no rare sight to ponder. “Aye” shouted a driver from the passerby motor car alerting me of the impending risk of being hit. A small boy came hopping, grabbed my hand and took me to the footpath. Grabbing my walking stick I walked towards the café. It was a small café with makeshift table made of oak wood welcoming guests with fresh brew of the morning caffeine. I glanced at the menu and I saw the word “kokekaffe”.

“Kokekaffe” – A Norwegian word for the most popular Coffee that dates back to the seventies. But it had a different meaning for me. I sat there with a cup of Kokekaffe smiling to myself. A sweet little girl in her 20s walked up to me and said “Reminiscence from the past”? “The Past isn’t dead. It lives in me, with me, as long as I am breathing” – I said. The young lady sat next to me wondering what those pasts were. And it took me back into the sailing days when I was a Commander on the High Seas battling the waves, holding my sails and reach for the faraway lands of the unknown deeps.

19th April 1972- Somewhere in the Norwegian continental shelf

Kokekaffe Captain?- said my sailor as I stood up on the bridge at 0200 hrs in the morning. I was called at the odd hours of the early morning as there was a heavy fog with cold freezing waters all around. The rumbling of the Foghorn shaking the ice at the horizon, the dripping droplets of waters on the icy glass of the view hole and a cup of Coffee in my hand adorned my poetic mind in the early hours of the day.

The sea often offered me moody moments sometimes jubilant with bright sunny days and sometimes despondent with clouds hovering over me. Sometimes I have romanced with the nature bathed in the shimmering moonlight reflecting on the calm waters and at others I have been swamped by the quilt of endless dark all around me sailing for unceasing hours tossed by the mighty waves of the same waters of the sea. My life at sea has been a resplendent conglomeration of such nostalgic memories.

But little did I know that today the sea is going to pen the most ecstatic moments in the pages of my diary. As I stepped out of the Navigation bridge onto the open deck space (called the Bridge wing) to light up my Oakwood pipe the gust of icy cold wind swaying down the glacial valleys fanned my face. The smell of Cherry tobacco and Coffee filled the air as it whiffed past my breath. I savoured the freshness of life amidst the snowy peaks meandering my path through the of the Norwegian fjords. Watered in the mist I looked up into the skies. Amidst the blinding darkness I saw a light that seemed like a green dot on the horizon – presumably a Navigation light from a nearby ship. As a seasoned navigator I pulled out my binoculars to take a closer look. The green light that I mistook to be the navigation aid was nothing less than a charisma of nature. Very soon it spread its wings to line the horizon like a queen’s necklace. And there it was – one of the most incredible gifts from mother nature. The greenish hue of Northern lights laid a carpet dotted with boulevard of stars. The dancing of the green amidst the purple sky looked magnanimous and enigmatic a sight neither words can express nor a camera can capture. It seemed like a glimpse of gods own painting; a celebration of colours smeared on the clear sky making its way onto the earth as a reflection into the sea. It mocked the irony of life, the daily ups and downs, the triumph and laments nestled in the trivial mind so trifling yet so petite. I showered in this bliss of nature with ecstasy as tears of joy wouldn’t stop rolling down my withered cheeks. I was all alone in this euphoric world only to see the ice capped peaks as the sole witness to this blissful moment. Blessed in this utopian reverie I drifted along the waves of time longing to be lost in the faraway mist. I hoped, with my utmost desire to capture this very moment at the corner of my soul so pristine, so meditating etching a reflection in my memory. Time stood still as I eyed this mesmerising beauty. Like a flute playing into my thirsty ears the Northern lights filled my soul.

Times have greyed over the years and shadows have lengthened in the trail of the sea, but in the evening of my memory I always relive those jubilant moments.

It’s strange how an aroma or a sound can stir up a distant memory like it happened yesterday. A cup of Coffee may be just an appetite to few but for this old man it takes me to the reveries of the deep blue sea. Adorned by time, tossed by the waves, a Cup of Coffee has been my aide in the thunder of the seas and in the calmness of the unknown deeps. And the offering sound from my mate in Uniform “Kokekaffe Captain”?

On that note I closed my watch for the day. I saw the young lady sitting next to me lost in the memoirs I had narrated. We watched the rain pitter patter in the foggy glass of the Café trickling down and leaving trails just like we leave our footprints in the shadows of memory. The Lady lifted her cup of Coffee and did Cheers with me and said “Kokekaffe Captain”.

I smiled and said “Bon Voyage”.