Since we left Wisconsin, the coronavirus situation took a bad turn in a hurry. We were lucky enough to attend a spring-training baseball game (Cardinals vs. Red Sox) in Fort Myers just before all such games were cancelled. Also our plans to watch the SEC basketball tournament here, and the NCAA tourney in Huntsville with Kristin and Kevin came to a screeching halt as those events were called off. Suddenly we were scrambling for things to do on this trip. We also wanted to avoid crowds, as everyone was warning us to “socially distance” ourselves. I had never before heard the term used as a verb, but we tend to stay to ourselves anyway. Kathleen said it best when she commented, “We practice social distancing as a lifestyle.” With our life savings having disappeared over the past week, I also thought that this might be our last vacation for a while. The first thing that occurred to me was that we could explore the various bars, pubs, and restaurants in the area, and I could call it “research.” After all, no academic worth his salt would go on a two-week vacation without including at least one research component. So, I decided that we would study the bars in and around this resort town.
The first thing we noticed was that there was no shortage of such places around here. So many bars and so little time! We arrived in Punta Gorda on Monday afternoon hungry and in need of a late lunch. Our wonderful hostess sent us a set of instructions for the house, but also included some recommendations for eating and drinking establishments. When we saw an Irish pub on her list, we headed for the Celtic Ray in the downtown area. They had a clever t-shirt that read, “Authentic Irish Pubs in Punta Gorda,” with nine boxes for the names of such pubs. One read Celtic Ray—the rest were blank. We had a couple of Irish beers and ate some fish and chips in the outdoor garden. That started a pattern for us, and we wound up eating outdoors in nearly every place at which we stopped. I have decided that eating al fresco is one of life’s great pleasures, weather permitting, and this area offers plenty of opportunities for such activities.
As you might guess, many of the places around here are built around nautical, fishing, or pirate themes. The Blue Turtle, Harpoon Harry’s, TT’s Tiki Bar, Nav-A-Gator, Hurricane Charlie’s, the Portside Tavern, Manatee Pizza, and the Low-Key Tiki, are just a few examples of food and drink establishments in the area. One place that specialized in craft beers is called the Belgian Monk and used the slogan, “Beer, Food, and Absolution.” I like that idea. Another one I enjoyed is called Shorty’s Place. It was definitely a dive and had the feel of a biker bar, complete with a gravel parking lot, despite being located in the upscale, downtown area of the city. I was attracted by the sign out front which read, “Today’s Special: Drinking Lessons.” The food and drinks were cheaper there than most places, but I think I liked it more than Kathleen did. Too many guys at the bar reminded her of my brother Gary.
Many of these bars had live music, and I was struck by the number “Tribute Bands” listed in the local papers. Some of these bands covered songs from the usual suspects, Elvis, the Beatles, Jimmy Buffett, and the Rolling Stones. Other bands surprised me, though, such as those featuring performers imitating the Eagles, Linda Ronstadt, John Denver, and even Simon and Garfunkle. After observing the age of the people we saw in the restaurants, I guess the bar owners know their clientele. It is also telling that many of these places close at nine or ten o’clock.
As we checked out these watering holes, we kind of used a sliding scale of who we knew that would enjoy that particular place. On one end of the scale was our son, Ben, and his wife, Amber. They are the youngest people on the scale, but also the most sedate. They are both doctors and rarely have more than one drink in an evening. The places they would enjoy would score well on the respectability spectrum. The Blue Turtle would definitely appeal to them—even the slightly disturbing purple mashed potatoes. Near the other end of the scale are our daughter, Kristin, and her husband, Kevin. Let’s just say that they like a good time. A bar that has a pool table or a dart board would rank high on their list. We found such a bar just a few hundred yards from our house as the crow flies. Because of the convoluted nature of the rivers, creeks, and canals around here, however, it takes about ten minutes to drive there over a serpentine route. You take a side road off of the Tamiami Trail, and turn left onto a side road off of that side road, then follow it around until the pavement ends at a seedy-looking marina. There you will find the Alligator Creek Bar and Grill. It is a friendly place with daily food specials, cheap margaritas at all times, and half-priced beer, wine, and cocktails from 5:00 on. The last time we went there, we met the owner at a table doing the books, his wife behind the bar serving drinks, and their daughter waiting on our table. There are only about eight parking spots out front, though, because most of their traffic arrives via boats on Alligator Creek. They just tie up to the pier and have some lunch or get liquored up before continuing on their journey. After eating dinner there, Kathleen and I played darts for an hour. Kristin and Kevin would approve.
At the very far end of our scale are places that my brother, Dan, and his wife, Esther, would enjoy. In his younger days, Dan not only enjoyed a cocktail, but he might also welcome a good brawl to top off the evening. Like all of us, he has mellowed (a little, anyway) as he has aged, but some of my fondest memories involved evenings with him in bars that had a little danger or adventure connected with them. The Dollar Bill Bar on Cabbage Key island practically reeks of adventure. I first came across this place in a scene in one of those fictional books I read on our drive south. The author of the other book I read, Randy Wayne White, frequently pulls his boat up to the dock and enjoys a beer at this bar. In fact, an autographed picture of him rests on the piano. It was easy to get to Cabbage Key. We simply drove south and west for 45 minutes, took a boat from Island Girl Charters to North Captiva Island, and finally, after about an hour on the water, we got dropped off on the dock in front of The Cabbage Key Inn and Restaurant (the official name). Cabbage Key is a beautiful, tropical island with no connection by road or bridge to the mainland. It consists primarily of an inn, several cottages, and the aforementioned restaurant and bar. The island was purchased for $2500 in the 1920s and the quaint inn was built as a second home by the family of author Mary Roberts Rineholt (sort of the American version of Agatha Christie). When we arrived, we first took a short walk on the nature trail. Kathleen made it past the alligator warning signs, but the pictures of native snakes did her in, so we headed to the bar.
The bar is legendary. It is a tiny place, but it spills into the surrounding rooms making the restaurant something of a labyrinth that goes in all directions. The story goes that a local fisherman came in one day after an unusually successful catch. He was flush with money at the moment, but he taped a couple of dollar bills with his name on them to the wall. He said he knew he would run through his money quickly, and he wanted to leave a buck or two so he could still get a beer during the inevitable lean times. A tradition and a new nickname for the saloon were born that day. Today, amidst the mounted fish, faded photos, and other odd paraphernalia decorating the walls, are decades’ worth of signed dollar bills left by visitors. It is estimated that there are 75,000 of them. As the tape wears out and the bills fall to the floor, they are collected and donated to a nearby children’s charity. They give about $14,000 a year to the charity in this way. Among the celebrities who have bent an elbow at this famous bar are Ernest Hemingway, Katherine Hepburn, Jimmy Buffett, Kevin Costner, Ted Koppel, and Julia Roberts.
We were among the first people in the bar at about 10:45, and we moved into the restaurant for lunch a short time later for the first sitting. I ordered a cheeseburger just so I could say I had eaten a cheeseburger in paradise. By the time we finished our burgers and key lime pie, however, every seat was filled, a line stretched out the door and down the hill, and the dock was a chaotic mess with dozens of boats and yachts jockeying for the few spaces available to tie up. Apparently, lunch is a big deal on Cabbage Key, and this sleepy little island turns into a boating Mecca for several hours a day on weekends. It is overrun with tourists and boaters for a while, but by evening, it transforms back into an idyllic island paradise without most of the trappings of the modern world. The trip to Cabbage Key was expensive and relatively lengthy, but it was also fascinating, and I’m glad we took the trouble to go.
Well, I have to stop this prolonged research report: happy hour at Alligator Creek begins in a few minutes.
About 10 or so years ago, colonies of feral cats augmented the ambiance of Alligator Creek’s location by wandering around without purpose, restriction, or malice. Usually prompted watchful vigilance from first-time diners and casual respect from “the regulars.” Some things change for the better while other things simply change.
Especially enjoyed your research report, Jack!
That sounds like the way I lived my life before meeting Kitty: “without purpose, restriction, or malice.”