Last Wednesday, on my day off, I decided I wasn’t to do anything but relax and treat myself after a busy workweek. After spending most of the day bronzing on the beach, followed by leisurely swims in my backyard pool, I knew I had to make the most of the rest of my day off and carry over the fun until Echo’s Dollar Bottles later that night.
This only meant one thing—going out to dinner. To say I talked my two friends who shared in my ventures with me throughout the day into continuing the party and going out to eat would be a lie. The only issue that sparked a questionable debate was choosing where to go.
We thought about the island and all the restaurants we haven’t eaten at yet this summer. Of course there are new ones sprouting up on every corner, and of course we wanted to try them. But we couldn’t neglect the restaurants that have been around for what seems like forever, of which we’ve always heard about, but never tried. We decided on The Boathouse.
We pulled up to the foot of the bridge and made the left into the parking lot and saw it in front of us. The Boathouse fits its name perfectly because that’s exactly what it looks like—a house. And get this—it sits on the bay.
The Boathouse looked like the place to be for a nice night out, with the sun starting to lower in the sky and reflect off the tan siding of the three-story house, casting a rippled reflection out onto the water behind it. We walked up the wooden staircase and under the green awning, while little white lights glowed brightly as we passed by.
When we ascended the staircase, a host waiting patiently greeted us. He informed us that we had to choose whether we wanted to sit in the inside dining room or outside on the deck, and that’s the nice thing about the restaurant—it’s almost like two separate restaurants, with each seating area presenting two totally different experiences. He insisted on us trying to inside dining room if we were in the mood for quality, gourmet dinners, naming off just a few of their famous entrees—mahi-mahi, tilapia, lobster, crab cake. If we were in the mood for a more casual experience, he insisted we take seats out on the deck, where more of a bar-style food is served—fried calamari, wraps, salads, shrimp cocktail.
I looked in through the glass door at the inside dining room and saw a waiter speeding by with a tray, with another taking an order from a table of four sitting directly in the back of the room, with a perfect view of the water. Then I looked to my right and saw the outside seating area on the deck. And as a heard the first note of music sounding from the bar area, I was sold.
While we took our seats at a table on the landing, we all agreed that we would save the inside dining room for another time, opting now for the more casual experience. And as we sat and waited for our food, I gazed out at the boats passing by peacefully, gliding on the water. I gazed at the other people gathered in groups, sitting and conversing and laughing, and I looked at the people sitting at the bar, chatting with the bartenders while watching the big game on the flat screen TV’s mounted above the bar, all the while as beach music hummed softly in the background.
It was a relaxing experience, I concluded—one that I will definitely take part in again. Good food, good service, good atmosphere, and a good continuance to my relaxing day off.