What’s Old Is New Again on Block Island

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.

The island’s restaurant, The Surf, and its neighbor, the Beach Bar, claim the back half of the wraparound porch overlooking the breakwater and Crescent Beach. A shared all-day menu ducks formality in favor of no-fuss fare and spectacular vistas. Their menu shouts, “You’re at the beach!” with big fresh salads, a thrilling poke bowl and a burger to boot. I see mounds of curly fries, a fried chicken platter, and a gorgeous lobster roll making its way to my neighbors. I opt for a light but filling summer salad, saving the tray of grilled shrimp and chimichurri for my next meal.

Both the hotel and the island are dog-friendly, and I watch a retriever break the calm to grab a frisbee its owner tosses into the bright blue water. By coincidence, Lorraine Cyr, the former proprietor of the hotel, walks by after having lunch on the porch. She shares with a smile that, despite the design overhaul, she feels her family’s legacy remains intact. After our chat, I walk the five steps to the beach and take a long siesta in the sand.

Once I’ve cooled off with a dip in the ocean, I walk through town, starting at the eponymous shop opened by jewelry designer Mary MacGill, who splits her time between the Hudson Valley and the island. Jewelry inspired by the ever-shifting natural landscape stands out in a tiny space that once housed the town butcher. I pick up a scoop of gelato at Mia's Gelateria and walk past the old harbor to one of the country’s last rustic cinemas. Once a Victorian roller derby, the Empire morphed into a Vaudeville theater before becoming a cinema where people (and dogs) gather to watch a film on balmy summer nights.

Next door, Malcolm Greenaway runs a photography studio that illuminates Block’s beauty in all its seasons. Everyone is friendly here, and I learn that Malcolm moved here full-time after honeymooning with his wife, who just retired from teaching at the local school. Across the traffic circle, I pick up Med Mitchell Moore’s Block Island-based beach read The Islanders at Island Bound Books before continuing up Spring Street.

1661 Farm and Garden would be a rarity in any community, let alone this island; the owners grow flowers and produce while caring for a crew of exotic animals that seem well-loved and admired. A summer visit may not necessitate winter socks, but the North Light Fibers shop next door carries some of the island’s most authentic souvenirs. Their alpaca socks are the softest I’ve felt, made with the yarn of the sweet animals you can visit out back.

There’s no public transportation on the island, so if you want to reach beyond town, it’s best to explore by bike, moped, or taxi. Wary of my clumsiness on two wheels, I opt for the taxi tour with the bonus of a local’s perspective. Polly MacMahon, a 13th-generation islander, stops traffic to welcome me into the passenger seat of her van. She has a warm, buttery voice and endless patience with the near-constant stream of jaywalkers.

We cruise toward Great Salt Pond and New Harbor. Here, there are three marinas and the legendary Payne’s Killer Donuts, where you can munch on Rhode Island’s best. Polly meanders between lore, history and personal anecdotes as we go; I see where her great grandfather harvested peat from one of the islands 350 ponds, the gorgeous view over Rodmans Hollow nature preserve, and the former town center where her parents met. Soon, we’re swooping down to the South shore.

Often described as a “stumbling block” for sailors and seamen, Block Island’s rocky and shoal-strewn shores were the site of too many shipwrecks in its earlier years. Ulysses S. Grant commissioned and opened the magnificent South East Lighthouse on these bluffs as a lifesaving measure, and in 1993, a small team moved the ornate brick icon to save it from collapsing into the dunes, where it now it guards the country’s first offshore wind farm.

The Mohegan Bluffs tower 200 feet above a picturesque beach with some of the island’s best waves; you’ll want to go back and brave the stairs down for majestic waters and an otherworldly backdrop. Polly picks a beach rose for me to keep as a memento while I take in views before we wind up on Corn Neck Road driving past open green fields with old barns, Victorian houses nestled into wide hills, and nature preserves. We stop at the island’s Northern-most point, Settler’s Rock, where Polly’s ancestors stepped onto the island for the first time. The North Light sits further out at Sandy Point. After explaining the significance of both, Polly and I exchange addresses before heading back to town. She’s a delight, and we both want to keep in touch after my visit.

The next morning, a blanket of fog tapers the summer light over the beach. Another walk calls and I shuffle over to a historical tour that meets on Tuesday mornings at the Chamber of Commerce. Eliot Nerenberg, a volunteer with the Block Island Historical Society, brings his collection of historical postcards and a penchant for bringing the island to life in enchanting detail and honest realism. Even if your visit doesn’t correspond with a tour, stop into the Block Island Historical Society museum for a walk through time. The abiding warmth I’ve experienced in every interaction on The Block continues as Eliot offers to show me some hidden spots on the island next time I visit before dashing to pick up his daughter in the ferry.

I spent the rest of my visit taking it slow and taking it in, bowled over by the genuine hospitality of this sweet island. The lesson learned on Block Island: Do as the locals do. Sit down in a bar seat at Winfield’s for a scallop dinner and old-timers’ stories. Go for an long early morning walk before the ferries arrive. Hike up to the Mohegan Bluffs (again) because nothing beats those views. The local paper says Lark Hotels is expanding the Block Island Beach House to an inn down the street this year. Block Island, I’ll see you very soon.