Do birthdays matter? Not really. But they are, at the very least, an excuse to do something you might not usually do as a middle-aged father of two. On a recent Saturday in September, one writer’s birthday became the perfect rationale to drag an assortment of friendship flotsam across the Los Angeles coastline, working their way down through a carefully selected itinerary of Southern California beach dive bars. For the second time, this birthday bar crawl was neatly rationalized—and perhaps partially subsidized—by using editorial assignments for publications like Eater and Punch. At its heart lies a firm belief that these old, salt-crusted pubs represent an essential, last-remaining stronghold of regional culture, demanding both public respect and financial support to survive the relentless pressures of modern real estate development.
The September Saturday crawl was a sprawling afternoon and evening affair filled with drinks and snacks, though heavily anchored by bites of iconic local bar burgers. The route stretched deliberately from Santa Monica down to Manhattan Beach, before finally wandering inland for a late-night dinner in Torrance, a city celebrated as home to some of the finest Japanese food in the United States.
The strategy behind the timing was straightforward. The plan was to start relatively early, soaking in as much sunlit ocean breeze as possible while still allowing the birthday boy to secure a normal amount of sleep at the end of the night before waking up at traditional dad hours. A great bar crawl possesses a specific structural virtue: it allows people to jump on and off the moving train as they see fit. A brisk itinerary, moving quickly from place to place without worrying over who shows up when, keeps the momentum alive. The simple rule of engagement is to let participants add their necessary estimated times of arrival to the group chat as applicable, letting the afternoon unfold organically.
Stop 1: Chez Jay — Santa Monica — 3:25 PM
Opened in 1959 and situated a mere eight-minute walk from the beach, Chez Jay has remained an enduring staple and a vital refuge in a city that has aggressively priced out historic neighborhood bars and restaurants. It is a classic institution where patrons can order a martini or a beer under two primary historical mandates: “take no pictures, and throw your peanut shells on the floor.” Though one of those rules was broken during the visit, the spirit of the place remained intact.
The kitchen had not yet opened for the evening, but the peanuts were plentiful and the bar pours were characteristically heavy. The interior features red booths and red checkerboard tablecloths that subtly evoke an old Italian restaurant, though Chez Jay operates firmly as a classic steak-and-seafood destination for dinner crowds. The crawl kicked off on strong footing here, drawing an initial group of six people, including the birthday celebrant’s dad and stepmom.
Stop 2: Hinano Cafe — Venice Beach — 4:38 PM
Operating continuously on a bustling stretch of Venice Beach since 1962, Hinano Cafe has earned its status as an iconic surfer haven. Serving beer and burgers—notable for lacking a full liquor license—the perpetually packed establishment maintains its authentic surf-culture roots by serving breakfast daily from 8 a.m. until noon.
As the group arrived at the second stop, the party swelled with the addition of more friends. Pitchers of beer were poured in a standing-room-only setting surrounded by board-short-wearing day drinkers who skewed far too young and attractive for a gaggle of graying dads to linger long. Still, the group managed to order and split a hamburger. Priced at $12.50, the perfectly acceptable bar burger served on a sesame seed bun acted as a pleasant enough edible intermezzo, prompting the thought that it might be a place best revisited at a different time—perhaps 1975.
Stop 3: Prince O’ Whales — Playa del Rey — 5:30 PM
Having crossed the marina, which serves as a sort of traffic dividing line across Los Angeles County, the group settled into a cluster of three classic bars tucked tightly along a 0.2-mile stretch of a hidden, working-class LA beach community. By this point, the sun was beginning to drop, and the coastal breeze offered a relaxing physical release—though the drinks likely played a role as well.
The group sauntered into Prince O’ Whales, an establishment serving drinks under its current moniker for over five decades, following an 18-year run under its previous name, The Bowsprit. The venue features two indoor bars, though one remained closed for the afternoon. The bartender possessed the precise brand of amiable grumpiness one looks for in a traditional sailor’s saloon, while the front room buzzed with loud patrons engrossed in college football—a subtle reminder of advancing age.
Retreating to the back patio, the group found a serene patch of cement, faded paint, sun-withered wood, and a ping-pong table. This leg of the journey was highlighted by the quintessential late-summer weather that defines the appeal of living near the Southern California coast.
Stop 4: The Harbor Room — Playa del Rey — 6:01 PM
After a brief 90-second walk, the crawl arrived at a destination affectionately known as “the smallest dive bar in Los Angeles.” Stepping inside feels akin to visiting a California-themed yokocho alleyway in Tokyo, save for its deeply lived-in interior lined with dark wood that gives the distinct impression of drinking in the bowels of a turn-of-the-century vessel crossing the Atlantic.
A talkative, inebriated yet non-threatening stranger quickly joined the group to ask a flurry of questions. Drink orders encountered a brief, charming mix-up: a requested vodka-soda turned into a gin and tonic, prompting a subsequent pivot to a gin martini. The martini arrived accompanied by a “sidecar” that was, astonishingly, just a rocks glass containing a splash of rapidly warming gin.
Drawn by curiosity, the birthday boy wandered into the adjoining Italian restaurant and was easily persuaded by friendly staff to order food. Instructing them to choose their house favorite, he returned to the table just as a steaming hot foil container of ravioli was delivered. The rustic charm of the experience prompted a half-joking reflection that if domestic life ever went south, renting one of those barstools for the twilight years would not be entirely out of the question.
Stop 5: The Shack — Playa del Rey — 6:27 PM
A review of iPhone photo timestamps reveals an impressive operational efficiency: the group successfully consumed a round of martinis and a plate of ravioli in a mere 26 minutes before pushing onward. An even shorter walk brought them to their next destination, The Shack, a classic old surf bar and restaurant that carries just the right amount of authentic wear and tear, making it look almost like a movie set.
Significantly more spacious than the previous stop, The Shack accommodated the group at the bar, where they ordered an assortment of wings and the signature Shack Burger to share. The signature burger comes outfitted with a butterflied Louisiana hot link split across the patty, functioning essentially as a juicier, snappier, and spicier alternative to bacon. Meanwhile, the birthday celebrant remained quietly impressed with his physiological stamina, having successfully navigated five—or perhaps six—drinks, a capacity that rarely gets tested in daily domestic life.
Stop 6: Ercole’s — Manhattan Beach — 7:23 PM
Nearing its centennial anniversary—though not always operating as a bar, having originally opened during Prohibition—Ercole’s easily could have served as the grand finale of the tour. Known among locals as the home of the best dive bar burger in LA County, this proud, defiant establishment has successfully weathered escalating real estate prices to remain an anchor of the neighborhood.
It stands as a sacred escape from the wealth of the surrounding beach community. The interior is a mosaic of aged wood and vintage beer signs, featuring separate lines for ordering food and accessing the bathroom. Every patron—ranging from gray-haired regulars in Hawaiian shirts to tattooed bikers—seems acutely aware of their good fortune in being there. In the corner behind the bar sits a small grill positioned beneath a yellow sign proudly declaring “no fries.”
The cheeseburger is an exercise in simple, chargrilled perfection, utilizing meat sourced directly from the butcher shop next door and served in a basket alongside a bag of potato chips. Although the menu also lists a teriyaki chicken sandwich, its existence remains a local urban legend. Time constraints forced the group to make a swift exit, placing a quick phone call to their final dining reservation to report that they were running roughly 20 minutes behind schedule.
Stop 7: Torihei — Torrance — Shortly After 8:00 PM
Having successfully navigated the day as a grazing tour of snacks rather than heavy sit-down meals, the group settled into a long table at Torihei adorned with pitchers of beer and ceramic carafes of sake. For a group of travelers completing a coastal dive bar marathon, few culinary creations could match the comfort offered by Torihei’s simmered slab of daikon radish, served deep in a savory dashi broth and blanketed with dancing flakes of smoked, dried skipjack tuna known as katsuobushi. The dish provided an immediate, warming chest-level reprieve.
As the night wound down, the group sipped beers and crunched on tender chicken cartilage alongside grilled chicken meatballs, ultimately finishing the culinary journey with bowls of soborodon featuring seasoned ground chicken over rice.
By the time the evening concluded, the birthday boy was home, showered, and safely tucked into bed well before 11:15 p.m., proving that a well-executed coast-to-inland itinerary can successfully bridge the gap between celebrating regional dive culture and maintaining traditional parental responsibilities.
