SP Road Trip: Sea Island, GA

There are special places in America and then there are national treasures worthy of the Smithsonian. I’ve been lucky in this life to be invited to a few of these pristine enclaves. Northeast Harbor, Maine is at the top of the list, along with Cape Cod, and of course Charleston. But there is a place I visited a few times a few years ago that has held a special place in the pantheon of memory and that was Sea Island, Georgia. I carried these memories with me for many reasons. First, I love an island, a beach club, boozy night swimming and then donning a blazer to go to dinner, or in this case, Bingo Night at the Cloister. I always thought of Sea Island as the Newport of the South. Sea Island was the place I referred to when I needed to make a point about the South’s gentility, a confident and handy defense to those who think all Southerners are back woods swine lovers, that alas, our civilization was not gone with the wind. SI presents a real old school club atmosphere replete with summer cottages inhabited by generations of families all returning summer after summer. The combination of little kids running rampant among the grown-up good times resonates with authenticity. So when the invitation arrived to spend a week with one of my favorite families at their cottage on Sea Island, you didn’t have to ask twice. All the memories came flooding back and they went into the suitcase right along with the bathing suit and navy blazer. Now, I had heard that SI had undergone some changes. The original Cloister built in 1928 by Addison Mizner had been torn down and a new fancier version had gone up in its place. The original beach club, they said, was gone too and replaced with a newer one. All fine, I thought. Change is inevitable.

Arriving on Wednesday night, the first obvious difference was the guard gate. Visitors are no longer allowed on the property. But this isn’t really a shock. Gates are common in this age of rampant miscreants. I drove on down The Drive to the familiar old cottage of memory and was comforted by the continuity along with the twenty-five guests in residence for the week.  There we gathered at one huge table, said the blessing and passed the dishes. Although I don’t consider myself a foodie, the highlight of the week  was homemade tomato pie. That and sitting around playing games, listening to any one of a number of the guests who played the piano beautifully, swilling peach daiquiris on a break from a handle of Grouse, night swimming late into early morning, skeet shooting, and bike riding all over the island. All to say, nothing had changed except the guest list and it was a blissful break from the present.

It wasn’t until the next morning when I set out to explore the new Cloister that change hit me in the face like a tsunami and I have to say, I am still a little perplexed. Let’s start by saying, the new place is grand. What was once a Spanish colonial treasure of a building has been replaced by a gargantuan over the top palace of exceeding excess.

There is now a fitness and spa center.

And the biggest shock, the new beach club.

On the site that was once a perfect pool and snack shop right on the ocean, a rustic –  in the best sense of the word — beach club now features a sprawling complex of pools, condos, open terrace dining, bar, ice cream parlor, candy shop, and gift shop all glistening on the shore of the Atlantic. If you had arrived blindfolded and plopped into a chaise you would not know where you were. The Four Seasons Maui? The Ritz Carlton Miami? Your last guess would be a barrier island in Georgia.

So to wrap up this lament, I want to say, run or jump at the chance to visit Sea Island. That is, if you want to experience what was once the greatest southern resort and one of the premier beach resorts in America. I say was because in ten years, you will not recognize it and if you do, you more than likely won’t be able to afford it and I imagine the clientele will be unbearable. There are now four gigantic residential developments on the island just waiting to be sold starting at 1.5 million and going upwards of 5, 6, and higher. All this development was completed as the economy crashed and they now sit there luxuriously waiting for the money to return. And when that happens, goodbye Sea Island. Or at least the Sea Island that was. Can you imagine the kind of person who spends 2 million dollars for a one bedroom overlooking a beach club? I can guarantee they won’t be cooking up tomato pies in those kitchens.

Sigh, (for Sea Island).