The Salty Dawg – Many Happy Returns
When my friends Cory, Matt and I traipsed around Alaska for the month of August in 1995, we camped on the beach in Homer for three or four days. When we wanted to escape the elements we repaired to the city’s most notorious bar, the Salty Dawg, in a cabin which had existed since 1897, and had subsequently been turned into a saloon in 1957. At a time when a dollar meant more to me than it does now, we went through the performative ritual of tacking a personalized bill to the wall, and we drank as much as we could afford after pregaming around our tent.
I didn’t make it back to Alaska until 2019, and didn’t revisit Homer until this year, but when I did there was no way I was leaving without going to the Salty Dawg. After a morning of kayaking and wildlife viewing in the Halibut Cove portion of Kachemak Bay, I quickly led Hanna and our friends Carl and Lisa a short distance down the famous spit to have a drink.
Some things had changed. Unlike in ’95, I’d showered that day. I had more money to spend. And I was there with a wife who I wouldn’t meet for almost exactly 8 years after that first trip to Alaska. I wasn’t staying in a tent, either, although with the exorbitant hotel prices in Alaska we didn’t get much for our $150 a night.
Some things remained the same. The beer was still cold. Then, as now, the Salty Dawg, only took cash. I tacked up another dollar, a fitting donation to the beer and weather gods and a sign of good will. It was still dank, dark and crowded.
Carl asked why a bar on the water overlooking such amazing scenery wouldn’t have a view of the bay. All I could think was that the people sitting there liked the close quarters and darkness. It just felt fitting, although it’s probably more fitting during the short days of December than in August.
Twenty eight years between drinks at the Dawg was too long. I will be back.
It also made me think of all of the other places I’ve loved but haven’t visited in a long time:
Between 2004 and 2012, Hanna and I went to Lake Winnipesaukee, New Hampshire every other Memorial Day week. Now we haven’t been in over a decade.
I fished the California Delta in 2003 and 2007 and loved it, but I haven’t been there since.
I had a great tournament at Minnetonka in 1997 and haven’t been to Minnesota (except the MSP and International Falls airports) since.
I fished a tournament at Guntersville in 2003, and went back with friends in 2004, but while I’ve gone back for a couple of Classics, I haven’t wet a line there in nearly 20 years.
Of course, part of those long gaps reflect conscious choices on my part. I’ve been bass fishing at El Salto and Picachos about 20 times over the past decade. I’ve been to Guatemala four times since 2020. I’ve been to Panama three times since 2021. You can’t be two places at once, and with limited time and resources I can’t be on the road or on the water all of the time. Still, I need to start considering which places demand a repeat visit. Going back to the Salty Dawg made me realize that it’s been a long road and while certain places are one-and-done, occasionally there’s some value in retracing forgotten steps.
