For years, Captain Billy Bangs’ was one of Portland’s classic gay bars — a place with a name you never forgot and a crowd that made you feel instantly part of the crew. Campy, a little rough around the edges, and full of character, it drew sailors, locals, misfits, and regulars into the same warm, chaotic orbit.
Captain Billy Bangs’ wasn’t about polish — it was about personality. Strong drinks, loud laughter, flirting that started at the bar and ended who-knows-where, and that unmistakable feeling of stepping into a room where you could finally relax and be yourself.
