An excerpt from Gulf Shore Life:

This story is Part One of a three-part series examining how landmark site was redeveloped as the Naples Beach Club—from design and land use to public life and long-term impact.

The ascending driveway of the newly opened Naples Beach Club, A Four Seasons Resort, makes for a stately arrival, its rise lending the approach a sense of ceremony. The tone eases as you reach the porte-cochère, with its haint-blue ceiling sheltering gas-lit lanterns and twin rows of Adirondack chairs. To those who know this shoreline, the shellcrete foundation registers first—a distinctly Floridian cue and a vivid reminder of the wave-like coquina sign that announced the beloved hotel that stood here for 75 years. Past the lobby, the Gulf appears, and for a moment, the past tucks itself into the present. The blue-green striped awning of HB’s restaurant stands as it did for decades before the former Naples Beach Hotel & Golf Club came down in 2022.

Can you revive the soul of a place that holds decades of a community’s memories? This question has shaped Naples’ largest redevelopment in decades. With every demolished landmark, a community fears losing a piece of itself. For four years, as cranes rose over the beachfront, Naples wondered if this one could be different.

The historic hotel wasn’t grand in the way luxury hotels are now. Its charm lived in its sun-worn edges, jalousie shutters and the coconut palms that unified the property, casting a frayed, familiar shade. For locals, it was a commons—a place of standing tee times, first jobs and nightly sunset gatherings. “It had the remarkable ability to invite everyone in and make them feel comfortable, and it held that consistently over 70 years,” says Ellin Goetz, part of the third-generation Watkins family that ran the hotel.

In 2016, the family decided the hotel needed more than they could give it. They faced the complicated task of selling a unicorn site, both coveted and burdened with expectation: 1,000 feet of Gulf frontage; 125 acres, including an 18-hole golf course across the street; and an identity bound by decades of public life. The obvious move would have been to let someone raze it, build condos and lock everything behind gates. 

Instead, the Watkinses opted for a buyer with a shared ethos, bypassing richer offers. For Ellin’s husband, Michael Watkins—the hotel’s president and final steward, along with his brother, Henry—having a hotel here was essential. His family had been welcoming locals and travelers for three generations. “Hospitality is the family legacy,” Ellin says. 

They chose The Athens Group, the developer behind place-rooted projects like Montage Palmetto Bluff, from more than a dozen suitors. Athens brought in legacy owner BDT & MSD Partners and enlisted Four Seasons Hotels and Resorts to shape the property’s daily life. Whether the group understood what this place meant would show first in what they built. 

On his first visit, Tim McCarthy of Hart Howerton, the site’s architecture and master planning firm, stood on the thousand-foot stretch of sand and began imagining how daily life would unfold in a new version of a place people already loved. “We were the beneficiaries of 70 years of investment and introspection on the Watkins side,” Tim says.

Authenticity, he knows, is something you earn. You learn a place, absorb its codes, then build so the result feels like a natural extension. His team studied the preserved cottages in the Naples Historic District, excavating the elements that gave Florida its character: deep porches, breezeways, clapboard siding. The difficulty would be scaling those domestic gestures to a large resort without slipping into caricature. “All of a sudden, we were challenged with the opportunity to reinterpret all of those material expressions, but in a seven-story building,” he says. 

Read the full article from Gulf Shore Life HERE