This article is less of a review - in fact, it's not a review at all, but rather, more of a lament. It's a sad, but familiar tale about the inevitable loss of another one of America's great dive bar seafood restaurants, one which finally met its demise by falling victim to another greedy developer's inherent need to replace it with - perish the thought - another heartless sanitary chain restaurant.
And we met some fine people along the way, as well. Captain Barry ran sunset pontoon tours from the deck. The regulars included someone we knew as Jamaican John, who was friendly to everyone. And the Clam Fisherman, who'd park his colorful clam truck outside the Inn, take off his waders, and come inside after his workday had ended. The Clam Fisherman was my husband's idol and cooler than words can express.
There were many other interesting regulars; too many to mention and many whom I am sure I didn't get a chance to meet.
Many folks visited from Pennsylvania, Maryland and other states, and shared the same appreciation for the place that we did. Some sunny afternoons, with a Miller light in hand and a few stories to be shared, we'd usually find we had a lot more in common with each other than we would ever have expected to have. It's funny how an atmosphere can do that.
The place got a short reprieve with the onset of the recession, but a few years later when development resumed, we knew the end was imminent as soon as we found a condo went up next door. The writing was indeed on the wall. Soon the hours were cut back so the more respectable types in the condos could be tucked in and sleeping for their 9:30 pm bed time.
When we pulled up this past weekend, I knew instantly the restaurant was in its death throws. The oyster shells had been cleared away, there were no bikes, and the lot was sealed over with macadam and topped with insanely square and groomed grass islands, complete with new lights.
To our consternation, the Clam Fisherman's truck was no where to be found and stale Karaoke was being advertised as the entertainment of the night. We grabbed a fish sandwich but it was thin and tasteless - as dry as cardboard and just as soulless. Although the restaurant had not yet closed for good, it was effectively already dead. Word has it that it will close at the end of November.