Once the playground of the rich and famous, Sea Island has become a much more affordable destination thanks to the worldwide recession, writes QUENTIN FOTTRELL
EVEN ON an island with a security barrier at the entrance, eight kilometres of private beach, oak-panelled mansions and fairytale country homes surrounded by palm trees and draped in Spanish moss, one can feel suddenly, unexpectedly vulnerable. Sea Island, one of the four Golden Isles off the coast of Georgia, contains some of the most expensive real estate in the US, but that doesn’t protect you from everything.
This was my attempt to briefly escape reality, but paradise doesn’t change you. Boarding my flight to the island, I found myself huffing and puffing as I stuffed my bags into the overhead compartment. By the time I arrived, and started to pinken in the gruelling Georgian sun while my my usual anxieties, fiscal and otherwise, lurked in the shadows beside me, I wished I’d left either me or my troubles behind.
As I rolled about in the surf one afternoon, a flock of seagulls descended on me. I had inadvertently swum into a school of fish. One seagull rose triumphant with a giant shrimp in its mouth. I marvelled at this victorious catch until my host told me of a less-friendly creature that also likes shrimp: shark. And, when it comes to late-afternoon snacks, they are not picky. I quickly splashed my way back to shore.
Another day, after spending an hour hitting balls during tennis drill in the steamy midday heat – the Playmate serving machine waits for no man – I cracked open a Coke Zero and sat on the deck of the cottage. Peace and security, at last. But I had an uninvited guest: a baby alligator was bobbing silently in the pond in the garden. It had crawled out of the marsh and crossed the lawn in the dead of night. Like I said, the real world has a habit of creeping up on you when you least expect it.
It can cost thousands of dollars a night to rent a suite with a waterfront view at the Cloister country club or Beach Club on Sea Island, but as wealthy Americans see their portfolios crumble, rental prices are ebbing south. If you are prepared to slum it in a room without a view, the cost is what you might describe as almost affordable.
On this occasion I didn’t have to concern myself with that. I was a guest at a friend’s family cottage, a two-minute half-trot from Sea Island Beach Club. This was a lifestyle I could ill afford, but after a week of sunbathing next to canoodling honeymooners from Atlanta, and taking tennis lessons with toned Southern belles, I don’t mind telling you it is a lifestyle to which I would like to become accustomed.
Sea Island’s quiet tree-lined streets are how I picture Beverly Hills in the 1930s, a silver-screen model of upper- class suburbia. Amid the gentle purr of sprinklers, children cycled about without adult supervision, far from the crime and poverty of the outside world. Notably, vans with construction workers and (mostly) Mexican gardeners politely gave way to (mostly) white pedestrians crossing the road.
Sea Island wasn’t as stuffy as I remember it being during my last visit, 10 years ago. But my chocolate-brown DG trunks and white legs stood out among the crowd. The men, who were bronzed and buff, all wore long multicoloured Bermudas. Even though my trunks were modest by European standards, I felt like one of those cheesy Italian stallions in thongs and Speedos who prance around the French Riviera.
Watching the women with their Jackie O shades and Ruth Madoff hair, I realised money does buy you pretty . . . with the help of good dieticians, plastic surgeons and personal trainers. This was a place like no other. Among the guests, I saw not one stereotypical overweight American. You will have to go to the neighbouring St Simons Island, with its fast-food barbecue restaurants, for that.
Collared shirt and “pants” is the dress code to dine at the Cloister, a fabulous re-creation of old-world money and charm. It was conceived a generation ago as an elegant and quaint Spanish-style villa by a Palm Beach architect named Addison Mizner. But after the entire resort’s bulldozing and reconstruction, which cost almost €350 million over several years, according to Sea Island Company, all that has changed.
Bill Jones III, the family-run firm’s chairman and chief executive, wanted to upgrade the island. And he did. The new five-star Cloister is unrecognisable. It is a magnificent homage to the original, but, like everything around here now, it is bigger, grander and more expensive. It was finished in time for the great recession.
Ten years ago I heard few Yankee accents and no European ones. These days, CEOs coming here from the northern US or Europe with clients may (or may not) feel uncomfortable at the noticeable black-white divide between staff and guests or the preserved remains of old slave quarters. The former US president Jimmy Carter had a house on Sea Island, and the first president Bush and his wife, Barbara, reportedly honeymooned here.
That could be why his son George W picked the Cloister to host the G8 summit in 2004, the year Ireland held the EU presidency. The round table in the G8 Room has flags embedded in the wood – though France and Canada’s flags were missing. There are photographs of the eight world leaders strolling on the beach here,alongside Bertie Ahern, hogging the camera in that infamous yellow outfit.
With the high security and boats patrolling the coastline during the summit, some enterprising residents rented their homes to visiting dignitaries and media. Sea Island Company sent a flyer to residents, informing them that they had enough rentals to accommodate the G8. As the black bullet-proof limousines poured past the security barrier, this little-known island finally made it on to the world map.
Despite such notoriety and changes, Thursday bingo at the Cloister remains. This is no ordinary bingo. The dress code is collared shirt, trousers and sports jacket. A plump Filipino nanny sat between two of her charges, helping them tick off their numbers, while their immaculately tailored parents sat opposite.
One girl in her teens jumped on to the podium to claim a cash prize. It gave her the opportunity to model a little black dress with a long white bow around her waist. Her 1980s style was very St Elmo's Fire.
Before the final round our compere asked the children how much they thought the prize money would be. “Seven hundred and eighty dollars!” one little girl with an emerald ribbon in her hair exclaimed. “Seven hundred and twenty-five dollars!” another boy said. For ones so young they had a good understanding of money. I half-expected an unseen embryo to shout out “$750!”, the correct amount. So measured were their responses that I longed for an excited kid to holler “one million dollars!”
The right numbers came up for a little boy of about nine. He was dressed in a navy blazer, crisp white shirt and tan chinos. He grabbed the cash and, like the victorious seagull with the shrimp, flew around the tables roaring at the top of his lungs. A bunch of kids dutifully ran after him, including the girl with the emerald ribbon. The train of rich kids ran out of the room and, still screaming, ran back in again.
The Cloister is a long way from the noble mobile homes of Courtown or Lahinch, though it would be naive to think that only the self-confident, well-groomed children of Sea Island were aware of the power of a fistful of dollars. Either way, the little American prince and princesses who were born into this luxurious world will be okay with or without succeeding at bingo. In the lottery of life, they have already won.
Go There
Sea Island is between Savannah, Georgia, and Jacksonville, Florida. Aer Lingus (aerlingus.com) flies to Kennedy Airport, in New York, from Dublin and Shannon. Delta Air Lines (delta.com/ie) flies from Dublin to Kennedy Airport. Delta, Jet Blue (jetblue.com), Northwest (nwa.com), American (aa.com) and United (united.com) fly from Kennedy to Jacksonville. Private aircraft can land on neighbouring St Simons Island.
Where to stay and go on a visit to Sea Island
Where to stay
Sea Island (00-1-866- 8796238, seaisland.com) has rooms from $750 (€470), or from about $1,500 (€1,000) with a waterfront view, per night for two people. Special offers include dinner, bed and breakfast, staying in a suite, from $750 (€470) per couple per night, or from $1,050 (€715) per couple for three nights’ BB, staying in a room. Beach Club access allows you to use the outdoor pools. There is a separate pool for adult-only lounging. Tennis, golfing and the spa cost extra.
If you’d rather stay on neighbouring St Simons Island, you could try St Simons Inn (609 Beachview Drive, 00-1- 912-6381101, stsimonsinn.com) or Village Inn Pub (500 Mallery Street, 00-1-912-634 6056, villageinnandpub.com). See explorestsimonsisland.com.
Where to go
The nearby Sea Island Golf Course has three 18-hole championship courses: Seaside, Retreat and the aptly-named Plantation. The latter refers to southern history, when black slaves harvested cotton and rice for their white owners.
Okefenokee Swamp is the largest in North America, covering 1,800sq km. Its name means Land of the Trembling Earth, a reference to the peat bog. You can alligator-watch along its 120 canoe waterways.
With its famous town squares, Savannah, about 130km away, is worth a look.
Of the Golden Isles, St Simons is the only one that is not a resort, but it has plenty of restaurants.