Photo by Sam Henderson
I love a dingy dive bar, a greasy spoon pub with only a flat-top grill or a fryer, a boozy beach hut that looks like it washed ashore on the last high tide or a run-down juke-joint where it seems like the grunge and grime is all that holds it together. These friendly places feel like settling in to your favorite chair — raggedly familiar, comfortably timeless, worn in but not worn out, and every stain and frazzled seam telling a story. They fit just right for those who appreciate them. No matter how many faux-antiques and clever placards one may find on the walls of the nearest corporate cantina, it just isn’t the same.
South Pinellas was rich with these haunts only a decade ago. These establishments are an indicator of a community’s independent spirit and authenticity. Many have been lost to gentrification and the cancerous drive to build a bigger, duller, more homogenous urban landscape. Some were crushed out by skyrocketing rents or became victims of mismanagement. Most recently, some of the greats were taken by bad weather. Hurricane Helene tore through like a nail gun, pounding the coffin lid down on some of the coolest, weirdest, grittiest hangouts in the county. This is my obituary for the beautiful hole-in-the-wall havens that were taken too soon on a dark day in September. With hurricane season underway, this has been heavy on my mind.
RIP Gulfport Dive Bars
Gulfport alone lost three such places, though two are working on a comeback. Neptune is planning on reopening, and Hurricane Eddies may return as well. The Tiki Bar and Grill is a palpable loss to our community, especially after owners Deb and Mark put so much effort into making a great place even better — one of the many gut punches dealt to Gulfport.
RIP Pinellas Beaches Dive Bars
Out on the barrier islands there are too many to name, but here are a few of my favorites that will always have a seat at the bar in my heart. Farewell, Willie’s Booze and Burgers, Lana’s Lounge, Fort Knox, Woody’s, and the Blue Parrot. You gave me and mine many a happy day. Thanks, Wahoo’s, for the memories (and the royal red shrimp). Rest in peace, Vito and Michaels. Your large calzone could feed the crew of a Naval destroyer with some leftover for breakfast. Blessings upon you, Mahuffers. There was truly no place on Earth so strange and raucous. Tipping drinks there was like being in the belly of a pirate frigate, and it rocked and rolled on the tide of its revelers. It seems sadly fitting that this ramshackle relic met its end under the frothy grasp of the sea.
I am not alone in marking their passage. They were local favorites and cultural cornerstones. It pains me to drive by the remains. I still harbor hope that some of these joints will have a miraculous return. Until then, I’ll toast you at the Flamingo Sports Bar (of Kerouac fame), Pasadena Bar and Grill, Shadrack’s, or maybe posted up under the tiny TV at the Emerald Lounge. Cheers to our bygone dives, and likewise to the continued good fortune of the survivors.
We’re the calm during the storm. No hype, only help!
Bookmark The Gabber Newspaper’s storm coverage page for quick access to relevant tropical storm updates. No hype, no guessing, just updates on shelters, sandbags, and closures. And sign up for text alerts to get real-time guidance and prep advice when there’s a named storm heading our way. Also, check out our downtown Gulfport and beach web cams.
