It had to happen…if only by the sheer weight of demographics. Mosey’s crew has pretty well explored the grills, bistros, sushi and fried seafood eateries within walking distance here in Beaufort. And on our walk-abouts, we had purposely ignored the apparent biker-bar right next door to our marina.
It is written in the cruising guides that this (local color) eatery is renowned for it’s Friday Night Steak Dinner (steak, baked potato, corn) grilled to your liking for ten bucks. The idea, of course, is that the steak is a come-on to get you into the bar. A loud, boisterous bar and gristly steak….not exactly our thing. But our dock ‘neighbors’ came knocking on the hull and suggested we all go up and give the place a try. Getting together with fellow cruisers we barely know is a major part of the fun. Dinner would be about good conversation and interesting people. Expectations for the steak were not high…
Upon entering, the bar looked exactly like it was supposed to….dim, crowded, pool table prominent…and peopled by folk in leathers and tank tops….all apparently having a good time and paying us no apparent notice. To get in line for the $10 steak, however, we had to proceed out back to the grill, pay for the dinner in cash and find a table to wait our turn…and patronize the bar, of course. No surprise in any of this. But looking around, you could not help but notice that pretty much everyone else looked just like us! No bulging biceps, no ‘leathers’, just beards, gray (or graying) hair, “casual sport attire”, and cheap wine or cold beer to drink…The patio looked to have seating for fifty or so and the conversation lively but not overly loud. Two Coronas into it, our steaks arrived, cooked to order. They were good! Marbled, nicely seasoned, and hot off the grill. For ten bucks! It was still early, barely six o’clock…we’d heard that you had to get there early because when he ran out of steak, that was it. The thought occurred to me…had we become those ‘old folks eating out early for the specials?’
What about the local color? Well, I’m pretty sure it’s essential to the mystique of the place…no parking lot for the bus tours. But as we left, I noticed the late model sedans left little room for the Harleys.