I’ve been going to Sea Island, located on the southeastern coast of Georgia, off and on since childhood. Later, I took my own young family. And, maybe someday, my kids will take their children, too. If they do, when they do, I’m going to insist on returning with them for a three-generational trip, one steeped in Southern soul, picnics on the sand, slow days by the water, turtle watch sunset walks and dressy evenings infused with Jazz Age flair. A nearly century-old destination, which has hosted at least eight presidents, a G8 summit, scads of foreign dignitaries, oodles of movie stars and esteemed families from around the world, Sea Island’s the sort of place that entices guests to return year after year. It’s an oceanside playground on a barrier island, rimmed by five miles of unsullied beach with summer camp brio, a retreat that fosters connections between guests that may last a lifetime. Defined by its fount of southern spirit, awash in stories and resort traditions, it’s grown and been (deftly) modernized throughout the years. Honoring the past, it embraces the present with bravado. Today, the tony retreat boasts a dozen onsite restaurants and bars, championship golf courses, a huge spa, pools, houses to rent and five distinct hotels.
Despite its bountifulness, this queen of Georgia’s Golden Isles continues to feel as intimate and coddling as the country house paradigm that first defined it. Activities range from water sports to racquet sports, shooting to horseback riding.
Roost at The Cloister, Sea Island’s redone, original, 265-room hotel, first designed by Addison Mizner, the 1920’s superstar of Spanish Colonial architecture. As the veritable living room of the island, it holds the Georgian Rooms, Sea Island’s storied signature restaurant.
What not to miss? Some of Sea Island’s best traditions, including chicken-fried oysters, Gold Brick Sundaes, pimento cheese, bingo night, a daily bagpipe serenade and al fresco Rainbow Seasonal seafood suppers. The Cloister at Sea Island, seaisland.com/stay/the-cloister.
