Failed to Sail!

Winds and currents keep us here in Pensacola for a second night, which is a bit of a disappointment. Last night I and a few messmates went out on a guided tour of the town with my roomie, who, despite his all-around stand-up nature, has two strikes against him: (1) he's a Marine, and (2) he's an aviator.

We started out with a visit to the National Museum of Naval Aviation, which despite being full of planes, was not as awful as I expected. Okay, okay, they've got a pretty cool collection of planes. Just make sure you wear a cranial while you're there, because it is really packed with aircraft. They've also got a nice collection of ship models, even if they are all aircraft carriers.

Did I mention we had a few beers on the pier before we left the ship? No? Well, keep that in mind, because it was my first mistake. The second mistake was trusting roomie to arrange transportation from stop one to stop two. After an hour of waiting for the second cab to come, we were off to stop two, Seville Quarter. Nice set of bars, good beer, and a bartender that was easy on the eyes made it worth our while. Even more entertaining was when Ivan the Gay Midget took a fancy to roomie. Roomie took it well, though, and I'm sure the free round helped to assuage his outrage. Two hours and I'm not sure how many beers later we're off to the next stop, McGuire's. Walking. Yes, walking. Another failed transportation plan from roomie.

McGuire's is legendary in Naval Aviation, because every aviator that has passed through the place bought a mug and they're all still hanging from the ceiling. Roomie mentioned this at least ten times. The parts of the ceiling that aren't covered with mugs are covered with autographed dollar bills, which is unique, but perplexing. Anyway, the ambience was great, the food was great, the beer was ... good, but the wait was LONG! Over an hour to get a table, and another hour to get the food. I should have known we were there a long time when Ops started buying top-shelf scotch for everyone, and I started drinking it.

Anyway, by half past ten, and what I am told was a half-hour nap I took at the table, we were ready to return to the ship and roomie was once again making arrangements for transportation. It was clear that we had waited a long time for this cab when we got to the third round of the theme song from Gilligan's Island. At least the cabbie thought it was entertaining.