A Road Trip to Alabama

Last Saturday started like any other Saturday at the marina. Weather-wise it was a cloudless, windless morning with 95-degrees projected as a high. My plans were to work on the good ship Galena for a few hours then join the parties that always pop up in the afternoon.

I put on a clean T-shirt, combed my hair, selected a very fine cap and, with coffee mug in hand I strolled up to the yacht club pavilion for the morning coffee and bagel social hour.

O-Dock, like the other cliques, has its standard seating position for morning coffee. After filling my coffee mug and selecting a bagel, I took my standard seat at the proper picnic table. I prefer to face ‘in' so I can watch all the comings and goings. The coffee was the usual dull brew. Tom, John and Rene, Bob and Barb, Bill and Gloria, and the usual suspects were already munching their waffles, bagels, and fruit cups. Except for Karen and Billy who, being on a recent health kick, bring their own, special muffins to the event.

Captain Ron (sv Lastdance) sat down with his usual, "G'morning, Capt Bill."

"Morning, Capt Ron," I replied. "What's your plan for today?"

"No wind. Going anywhere at all will be no fun. But," he continued in a bright, I-know-something-you-don't way, "did you know that Jimmy Buffett's sister has a dock bar?"

"Sounds interesting."

"Yeah, it's named Lulu's. We should drive down and check it out some day," he suggested.

"I'm in," I said. "How about right now?"

Now, over the past couple of days I've told this tale to some friends and when I get to this point every single one asks, "Where is it?" I didn't ask. I'm not sure what that says about me.

Ron brightened up. "Really? You want go?"

"Sure. Why not? I'll just grab my bag and I'm ready." The small bag I had packed to come to the marina for the weekend was just setting on Galena. In it was all I'd need. After all, a couple of days on the road are the same as a couple of days on the boat.
And besides, I really didn't want to work on Galena. My next task was to reinstall the Genoa track and for some reason I didn't want to start. So any diversion was welcome.

Ron had Rick, one of the local maintenance people, coming by to fix his autopilot. Once he got Rick started on that task we could go.

The two captains in a pre-departure pose

I tried to call Jane, my wife, to tell her I was not going to be at the marina for the rest fo the weekend, but there was no answer. She was probably out working in her garden. Instead of asking permission, I'd have to ask forgiveness.

We threw our bags and a cooler into the back seat of Ron's car, stopped by at the Red Eyes Dock Bar here in the marina for ice and sodas, and by noon we were on the road.

Ron had called Lulu's to get the address and other information. He talked with Susan and told her we were driving down for lunch tomorrow, Sunday. I'm sure she didn't believe him, but she was polite and cheerful and wished us a safe trip. We would call her every time we crossed a state line just to convince her we really were driving down from Maryland.

As we drove across the Bay Bridge Ron had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face I've seen in a long time. He kept saying, "I can't believe we're doing this. This is something just college kids do."

On the road with a determined air

OK, Ron's smile waned a bit when we turned south on I-95 off of the Washington Beltway. There we hit traffic. The standard DC traffic that one might find on any weekday around here. But this was Saturday afternoon and there shouldn't have been any problems. Ron started to get pissed.

As we sat still in that parking lot of a freeway we decided that we should have some kind of a plan; or at least a route. I found a small map in the glove box with enough detail to get us to Mobile. Did I mention that Lulu's was in Mobile, Alabama? Well, actually Lulu's is in Gulf Shores, which is about an hour southeast of Mobile. We were about 1000 miles away from sharing a cold one at Lulu's.

Jane called me back about an hour into the trip. I was explaining things to her with Ron laughing through it all.

"That's nice of you to spend some 'guy-time' with Ron," she said. Ron had recently lost his wife, Carol, to cancer. We were all trying to help him through this tough time. "Where exactly is this Lulu's place," she asked.
"Well, there's the hitch, honey," I said. "It's in a town named Gulf Shores, about an hour outside of Mobile, Alabama." I winced while I waited for her response. To my relief she laughed.
"Mobile! You guys are nuts!" She laughed again. "When will you get back?"
You just gotta love a woman like that.

The traffic lasted just about two hours, or from DC's beltway to just north of Richmond. Then we cruised at the normal 85 mph that I-95 is known for. At Petersburg we turned southwest on I-85.

Also at Petersburg we saw the most fantastic fly-over. At the interchange of I-95 and the Pocahontas Parkway is a spaghetti pile of ramps with a couple of them rising about two hundred feet in the air. I noted the exit number (#67) and said we should drive up it on the way back just for fun. These were some really high ramps.

Somewhere around Charlotte I grew a bit weary of Capt Ron's complaining about not having a good chart. "A good sailor always has a good chart of his destination," he said. He was whining like a school girl (well, I'm sorry, but you were, Ron). So I pulled into a small gas station mini-mart thinking they'd have some sort of map that was at least a little better than what we had; which wasn't much. When we explained to the lady running the place what we needed and what we were doing ("It's a road trip, ma'am. Heading down to Mobile to have lunch at Lulu's") she summed it up quite well: "Hell, you boys just ain't right in the head."

Sharing the driving and eating at fast food places we worked our way down to South Carolina. We wanted to call Capt Jeff and ask for the name of a good place to eat dinner. Jeff is from around there, you see? For some reason neither Ron nor I had Jeff's phone number in our phones. So we started calling other guys from O-Dock hoping to find someone with his number. No one was answering their phone. They were all out doing the normal weekend boat stuff. We left messages and one by one they all called back. Of course we had to tell the story of Bill and Ron's Great Adventure to each one. Like the good buddies they were they all laughed and wished us well.

We made it to the Alabama state line

North of Montgomery, at about midnight, we decided to stop for the night. With only about 4-hours to go we figured we could get up at a reasonable time and make it to Lulu's for lunch.

We met at the car and headed out on the final leg of our journey at about 0800 hrs. Lulu's opened at 1100 hrs. We had just turned off I-65 about then. We were heading down Route 59 towards Gulf Shores, Alabama, when we called Susan at Lulu's for the final directions. She was amazed that we were actually just about there.

She gave us directions. She also cautioned us about the speed traps along the route. Susan said they would put us at the top of the waiting list for lunch.

"Waiting list," Ron asked? "You've been open for 15 minutes."
"When we open for lunch, we let in the first 108 people waiting outside and the rest go on the list," Susan said. "But," she continued, "you boys are right at the top; no waiting."

We were surprised. This must be one popular place. Ron slowly drove down the highway, careful to follow the speed limits. We found Lulu's at Homeport Marina right on the ICW where it's crossed by Route 59.

In front of the store, in front of Lulu's

The huge parking lot let us know that this was no small dock bar. The kids running around and the moms chasing them let us know that this was no dock bar in the sense that we had expected. Ron went to the reception desk and introduced himself.

"We've been expecting you," she smiled.
"Would you tell Susan we're here," asked Ron as we were seated.

Ron, Leslie, Susan and Bill at Lulu's

Susan and Leslie came to the table. Introductions and smiles all around. As I took her hand Susan said you're in the South now. We hug down here. Hugs all around. They both were extraordinarily nice to us. We talked for as much time as they could reasonably give us (they were working, after all). Our waitress, Anna, was there with a couple of excellent Margaritas. Ron and I ordered lunch and had a great time toasting each other's madness.

Anna took marvelous care of us and Leslie stopped by a couple of times to ensure we were having the best time possible. Anna and the rest of the staff wore shirts that said "Crew" instead of "Staff." That was a nice touch that I hadn't seen anywhere else. And Anna had just the right mix of flirty smiles and professional aloofness. She could give lessons to every other waitress in the world.

Ron made some comment about all the kids running around the place and we asked Susan about the Bama Breeze bar about which Jimmy Buffett sings. She said the bar there at Lulu's was named Bama Breeze. But that is was named after the song. The song itself is about a bar down the street and that bar is actually named "Flora-Bama" because it's right on the state line and right on the beach. Leslie said that Ron and I would fit right in there; probably better than at Lulu's. She smiled and continued, "Yeah, the Flora-Bama is definitely your kind of place."

To top it all off, Susan and Leslie gave us a couple of T-shirts and took about 50% off our tab; a much unexpected but much appreciated gesture. They were the friendliest people I'd ever met. I think I should move to the South. I'd like it down there.

After a great lunch with a couple more Margaritas and a visit to the gift shop we headed down the road to find the Flora-Bama. And find it we did: right on the beach. And, Leslie, you were absolutely right: It was exactly our kind of place.

The Flora-Bama.

This is our kind of place

Just one beer there and we headed for home, only seventeen hours away to the north.

The ride home was just long. Uneventful, boring, and long. We drove straight through and made it back to the marina at 0800 hrs Monday morning. Just under two days. Just over 2000 miles. Just two old sailors on a most excellent adventure.

Back where we started from for a post-trip pix