What’s Old Is New Again on Block Island
I’m not a stranger to Block Island. As a young girl, I made a much-anticipated day trip out to the island with my family every summer. But I always wanted to explore its beauty beyond our annual harborside lunch, to see what most people missed in a day. When New England-based Lark Hotels reopened the iconic Surf Hotel as the Block Island Beach House in July, I booked a roundtrip ferry ticket for one, jumping on the chance to explore the hotel and island I glimpsed every year as a child.
I snagged an enviable top deck seat for the ferry ride from Fall River, Massachusetts. On our way, we picked up more daytrippers in the tony town of Newport, Rhode Island before setting out to sea. Block Island is unique in that, on any given summer day, ferries arrive in its two harbors from four states: Rhode Island (Newport and Point Judith), New York (Montauk), Connecticut (New London) and Massachusetts (Fall River).
The island takes the shape of a 10-square-mile pork chop sitting south of the Rhode Island coast. Formally incorporated as New Shoreham, it’s the smallest town in the country’s smallest state—a microcosm of what to love about coastal New England. With over 300 miles of old stone walls, sloping beaches framed by blackberry brambles and a Del’s frozen lemonade (a Rhode Island delight) around every corner, it’s no wonder this place mesmerizes visitors.
Block Island’s legacy as a dreamy summer destination first took hold in the Victorian era when well-to-do visitors clambered aboard steamer ships with heavy trunks in tow. Tourism fell in the wake of the great 20th-century storms—the depression, the hurricane of 1938, and WWII—before making a roaring comeback and bringing challenges along with crowds.
With almost prophetic foresight, the island’s leaders rallied to protect its precious ecosystem as more visitors made this place their seasonal destination. The Block Island Conservancy and the Block Island Land Trust partnered with The Nature Conservancy, which declared Block Island one of the Last Great Places on Earth (one of only 12 in the Western Hemisphere) in the 1990s. Together, these organizations have preserved nearly half of Block Island’s land with the vision of creating a greenway that extends across the island. The community is still determined to welcome change on its own terms.
This shifting balance between the past and the present takes root at the island’s only beachfront hotel, Block Island Beach House. When you pull into the old harbor on the ferry, you see its salty shingles, rising gables, and wraparound Queen Anne’s porch. Art historian Vincent Scully once described this Victorian-era shingle-style work as “the architecture of the American summer,” and it s easy to understand why. Built in 1873, the oldest part of the building served as the home and office of Block Island’s doctor before a postmaster transformed it into a small hotel; the property eventually tripled in space with two grand additions and a cupola for good measure.
Local folks assured me that everyone will refer to the Block Island Beach House as the Surf Hotel for years to come, out of habit. As if by design, Lark’s team spun that beloved old moniker in a wildly different direction.
This grand dame feels expansive and open, like a cool aunt’s Malibu beach house complete with vintage surfboards. Victorian architectural details frame the space: a magnificent white tin ceiling, creaky wood floors and the original bullseye molding. Wainscoting topped with patina tin walls in seafoam and white mirror the original tin ceiling with a faux antique flair.
The doors to the front and back porch remain open, yielding an ever-present cross breeze that extends to a new-fashioned coffee and cocktail bar (a modern rendition of a soda shop) and clusters of relaxed couches in small seating areas. The check-in desk doubles as an in-hotel shop selling curated local art and a hodge-podge collection of beach reads tucked into a quiet alcove. Undoubtedly relaxed, it anchors the new vibe of this old place: put up your feet—even if they’re sandy.
Lark’s California cool interpretation of this charming icon made a splash in a community that’s known for its adherence to Victorian decor. I scale the stairs to a suite in the eves and note the benefit of the hotel’s pared-back simplicity: it brings your eyes out to the magnificent views. In the suite, a lovely cream linen couch, patterned roman shades, and a petite black-and-white tiled bathroom account for half the space. On the other side of a partial wall sits a luxe King-sized bed with a black spindled headboard. As tempting as it is to sink into a pile of down, I change into a bathing suit and pop down for lunch.