Tony's On the Pier

“That seal is dying, man.”

I offer no defense for the events of that Summer afternoon - I only blame myself and the chief - the Firechief - a Mai Tai iteration with an abundant splash of Bacardi 151 rum across the top. One Firechief will see you happy; two will see you cry; three, you’re unlikely to see at all. Things may begin to move in ¾ time, your senses are beguiled, and the sun seems brighter as you wait for the green flash when the horizon overcomes it.

These delicious concoctions come in a souvenir old-fashioned glass emblazoned with the Tony’s on the Pier logo, which is replete with its vintage font and palm tree. The glass is yours for the keeping, and they make wonderful gifts. I’m down to my last 29 glasses, so I may need to restock soon. The restaurant estimates they’ve sold over 7 million of these drinks and glasses, so I shouldn’t brag.

That’s the thing: you come for some reason - the view, the booze, or the seafood, but you find yourself in another place. Tony’s is a Tiki Bar, the entire point of which is to detach from someplace and invent your own. Although the American tiki bar phenomenon has its roots in the 1930s, the post-war 40s and 50s really kicked things off. One of the most famous tiki bar chains was Trader Vic’s, founded by Vic Bergeron, who created the mai tai in 1944. Eight years later, in 1952, Tony Trutanich opened Tony’s on the Pier on the Redondo Beach Pier. Tony himself is said to have designed the place, including the iconic crow’s nest bar with its vaulted ceiling adorned with colorful glass buoy balls, first used by Japanese fishermen to sight their lines in the moonlight.

Tony Trutanich was a lead navigator during World War II, including on D-Day. Prior to opening Tony’s in 1952, he worked as a commercial fisherman. What began as a modest restaurant with only 12 tables grew significantly in the early 1960s, establishing the icon that thrives today. He may have opened his restaurant seeking the same respite that defined his generation in the 1950s.

Stepping into Tony's is like stepping back in time to the 1950s, a decade defined by the pursuit of creating new realities after the chaos of World War II. This was the era of the Vegas elegance of the Rat Pack, the steely beauty of Cadillacs with fins, the calm minimalism of the midcentury modern aesthetic, and the escapism found in the tiki bars that seemed to be everywhere at their zenith.

The popularity of American tiki has ebbed and flowed, but Tony’s has remained. I have spent more time than is respectable in Tony’s Crow’s Nest bar, which sits above its main bar and restaurant. The restaurant's location is spectacular, with open windows to the Pacific Ocean. You’ll find a solid offering of fresh seafood prepared simply - without fanfare or adoration. The fried mozzarella cheese with marinara sauce is another artifact of a bygone era and one worth reviving. This isn’t the mozzarella sticks served alongside your delivered pizza; this is a slab of cheese oozing with heart-stopping goodness, topped with a chunky marinara sauce.

The main bar has a mid-century fireplace table, which has such a vibe and makes the perfect secret spot for people-watching. Tony’s is a tourist attraction in the best way possible. What elitists never get about tourist attractions is that tourists are the attraction, and we’re all tourists. We’re all just passing through most of the places we visit, so we may as well enjoy the show.

I’ve celebrated the New Year, bemoaned a bad year, and toasted to friends gone too soon in Tony's crow’s nest. I’ve met smugglers and cops and admired the optimism of an old man chatting with a young woman in his faded Reyn Spooner shirt.

In 1988, the pier was battered by a series of storms that damaged the pier and many of the neighboring businesses. In May of that year, a fire consumed the nearby Breaker’s Restaurant, and the pier caught fire.

Tony’s survived. Many businesses did not. When the pier was rebuilt in the 1990s, they added a concrete walkway, connecting new restaurants with the pier and creating an enclosed bay outside Tony’s.

Then, there was that seal. Correction, seal lion. I’m going to refer to this creature as a seal. Poetic license.

“That seal is dying, man.” That was me addressing a member of Redondo’s finest.

I had spent the afternoon keeping pace with a group of college kids I had brought there. I may have outpaced them when I spotted the seal beached on its side, which looked to me, with my highly untrained eyes, to be dying. The crow’s nest is built completely of windows that run to the roofline. Looking northward, I could see the seal writhing on the narrow shoreline between the water and the rocks. It looked like it attempted to right itself, wanting to return to the sea.

A plan was hatched. By me.

“We gotta save this seal, boys.”

“How?”

“We’re going to climb down those rocks there, and we’re going to push it back into the ocean.”

“It’s like 500 pounds.”

“That’s why you’re coming with me.”

I was speaking to my cousin, a D-1 center and part-time Thor impersonator. We made our way down the crow’s nest and to the rocks. The rest of the crew followed us only so far as the rocky climb down to the beach. In the interest of public safety, do not try this at home. We are professionally trained idiots. This is journeyman’s - not for rookies.

We saw the seal in the distance - and approached gingerly.

“Look, we gotta come up behind it. These things have a pretty big bite.”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“That seal would most certainly do it for us.”

“Good point.”

That’s when we heard him.

“Step away from the seal!”

Sure enough, we’d been spotted by a Redondo Beach police officer.

“That seal is dying, man.”

“Sir, I will make you three promises: First, that is most definitely a sea lion, not a seal. Second, sea lions are always dying here—that’s what they do. Third, I will arrest you if you make me come down these rocks I’m going to arrest you.”

We looked at each other, my cousin and I. Tacitly, we briefly considered making a run for the seal and into glory. But it was a beautiful day. One of those summer afternoons made you do Los Angeles all over again.

“Mission aborted, amigo.”

“Vaya con Dios, Mr. Seal.”

We reached the top of the rocks without incident and were greeted by our friends and a kind and benevolent officer of the law.

We all looked back down at the beach and the seal, who seemed disturbed by the ruckus we made. The seal managed to roll over and inch back into the water, disappearing beneath the tide.

Tony's on the Pier

Redondo Beach Pier

210 Fishermans Wharf, Redondo Beach, CA 90277

(310) 374-1442

oldtonys.com

11:30 AM-10:30 PM