While traveling in the Florida Keys last week and not catching tarpon*, I encountered the signs shown in the photo. They were in a bar (where else?) at a waterfront joint called Wahoo’s where my wife and I stopped for lunch.

“Ah-ha!” I said to myself at the time. “I can blog about those.” Which is just as well because I had no fish that I might have blogged about otherwise. For example, if you have to “Drink til she’s cute,” as the sign proclaims, I think you have a big problem that drinking won’t solve. And for those of equal-opportunity mindsets, you could also “Drink til he’s cute,” which won’t solve your problem either.

Then there’s the beer thing. I get the dancing part. There was a time when ample beer consumption helped me on the dance floor, too. But what about 1843?

As far as I can tell, bottled beer has been around since at least the 16th century in Europe. I have been unable to find the significance of the year 1843 in brewing history. So maybe you can help. Anybody got an answer?

* As to the tarpon. My second day of tarpon fishing was much like the first, which I recounted here. Again we found more tarpon on the flats off Islamorada, and again they just plain would not eat our flies. I have heard the saying about how a tarpon will eat the right fly, well presented, 85 percent of the time. So maybe we were just in the limbo of that other 15 percent. I simply have no idea what the problem was. Next year I’ll try again to see if I can figure it out.