The Thrill Of Mr Chase

Hunters & Frankau’s Simon Chase was one of the industry’s most respected figures

WITH the death of Simon Chase, director of cigar importer Hunters & Frankau, the industry has lost one of its most celebrated and respected figures. During the three decades I knew him, Mr Chase remained unaltered— it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he’d been born with that gravelly voice, grey hair and encyclopaedic cigar knowledge.

One of my favourite anecdotes concerns the Spanish-language teacher engaged by Hunters & Frankau. After some months, Mr Chase spoke not one word more of the language than before —not because he was a poor student, but because he’d been teaching his tutor about cigars.

Besides, he didn’t need to learn Spanish, as he already communicated fluently in the lingua franca of appreciation of cigars from the Vuelta Abajo. In his Panama and cravat, he was an instantly recognisable and cherished figure in Havana. Devotees from all over the world would gather around his wicker chair on the terrace of the Hotel Nacional to scoop up his pearls of wisdom.

That familiar, sonorous timbre was capable of keeping far more than a circle of admirers spellbound. In 1999, at the inaugural Festival of Havana cigars, Mr Chase was called on to join Fidel Castro, gavel in hand, to auction off five extraordinary lots of cigars.