PORT OF CALL

A Port of Call.

Rachel Jackson called it "the Great Babylon."

In 1821, Andrew Jackson became the first territorial governor of Florida. He and his wife Rachel set up house at the southeast corner of Palafox and Intendencia — the lot where World of Beer now sits. Rachel, a devout Presbyterian, was horrified. The locals drank. They worked Sundays. She wrote her friend Eliza Kingsley calling Pensacola a "Great Babylon." The Jacksons left after four months. The Babylon stayed.

Fifty years later it had its excuse. Between 1870 and 1900, Pensacola was one of the busiest deepwater ports on the Gulf — yellow pine, naval stores, red snapper, hundreds of ships tied off along Palafox Wharf at a time. Saloons grew up next to the chandleries. The corner of Pine and Palafox earned a reputation for unsolved murders. The Alligator at Wright and Tarragona kept its own kind of order. The blocks where Old Hickory, Hub Stacey's and Seville Quarter stand today were doing the same job 140 years ago.

A few streets west, Belmont-DeVilliers — the neighborhood Pensacolians still call the Blocks — held a parallel city. Jim Crow had pushed Black Pensacola out of the white rooms downtown, and the Blocks became a Chitlin Circuit stop. Billie Holiday played here. Cab Calloway. Etta James. Ike and Tina. Blue Dot opened in 1947 and is still pouring. Chizuko occupies the old Abe's 506 Club. Five Sisters Blues Café sits where Gussie's Record Shop used to be.

Then there was Trader Jon's. From 1953 until 2003, Martin "Trader Jon" Weissman ran a bar at 511 South Palafox that was the unofficial wardroom of Naval Air Station Pensacola. He wore mismatched socks. Drink prices changed depending on his mood and how well he knew you — regulars called it Tradernomics. The walls were covered in flight memorabilia traded for drinks. John Wayne came in. So did Bob Hope, Larry King, Prince Andrew, John Glenn and Alan Shepard. The bar inspired "TJ's" in An Officer and a Gentleman. The Navy named a runway after him: TRADR-ONE. The bar closed in 2003. The collection now lives at the T.T. Wentworth Museum.

Five flags (well, actually six, but that's another story for another time), three centuries, many neighborhoods. The ships changed. The instinct didn't.

This is a guide to where they go now.