Shootin’ skeet with your favorite boomstick. Boozy three-hour brunches ‘neath massive chandeliers. Even boozier games of bingo while totally not-ironically donning a mandatory blazer (the crestier, the better).
Boy howdy — you don’t have to be a Republican to party like one, down in Georgia.
Well, insular Georgia, anyway. Welcome, y’all, to Sea Island, the year-round tropical headliner of the Peach State’s barely-off-coast barrier Golden Isles, just a quickie 75-minute drive from Jacksonville, Fla.’s aerodrome, where you can shack up in either the (all-Spanish-styled) golf-course-surrounded Lodge (where a bagpiper dwells), central Cloister or in a rental cottage.
The wholly private resort isle, surrounded by five miles of lush beach, has been a favorite of GOPers since its inception, stretching back to the dawn of the 20th century. Republican commanders-in-chief who’ve visited — and customarily planted live oak trees — include Calvin Coolidge (who may not have been so silent after a few Moscow Mules, one of the more popular drinks ‘round these parts), Dwight Eisenhower and Gerald Ford. More recently, George H. W. Bush and wife Babs honeymooned here, followed by their son Dubya and his first lady, Laura, who dropped by for the G8 Summit in 2004.
No worries, Dems, the fun’s bipartisan: Bubba, er, planted his wood in Sea Island’s soil just two years ago (and Hil knew all about it), while good ol’ boy Jimmy Carter exercised his green thumbs here in 1981 shortly after his second-term bid shellacking.
While these highfalutin types more or less merely sprinkled dirt crumbs around said oak saplings, Conservative Party Prime Ministrix Margaret Thatcher fetched herself a shovel and dug into the ground like a rabid honey badger when she visited in ‘94 — pink suit be damned.
That’s just the kind of energy the place evokes. It’s an easy, breezy trek form the mainland; just drive over the Sidney Lanier Bridge — a quasi twin of Scandinavia’s Øresund Bridge — where the Dirty South magically transforms into the Purty South.
Here, the five must-dos once you arrive on Sea Island — ’cause it ain’t a party till it’s a Grand Old Party.
BINGO BANGO
“Clickety click, O-66;” “B-4 … and after;” “Elvis, love me B-10-der.”
The many catch phrases of Billy Bingo, the beloved super-star emcee of Sea Island’s infamous alphanumeric bloodsport, are just one of many reasons to dress to the nines and join in the bingo boarded bedlam every Tuesday and Thursday. (Dress code is indeed mandatory.)
Just meander your way into the Cloister’s main Georgian Room, where Billy — likely dressed up in Pharrell’s Arby’s hat or some such — holds court.
The crowd favorite: “Quack, quack, quack — a couple of ducks, I-22.” (Those 2s look quite anserine, when you look closely.)
TRIGGER-NOMETRY
Gun noobs can get their bearings over at the Shooting School, run by Jon Kent, where you can learn to shoot skeet and trap with shotguns (Snapple Fact: the higher the gauge, the less powerful/recoil it sports).
They have an air rifle class and a new archery range for kiddies. If you’d prefer to shoot things with faces, they’re especially happy to lead you on hunting safaris at the Broadfield Lodge, a private, gated 5,800-acre Jurassic Park-y hunter’s paradise filled with quail, pheasant, gators and — what they’d love for you to wipe out, as mercilessly as possible — wild hogs.
It was built by former Sea Island CEO Bill Jones III (a moneyed southerner par excellence, he considers the Bass Pro Shops honcho his BFF).
Even if you can’t/won’t kill anything, it’s imperative you dine here — the produce is farm-to-table, the meat is from its smokehouse.
And that amazing honey you’ll be spackling your biscuits with is harvested on-site.
SWIFT BOATS
Georgia boasts a whopping one-third of the East Coast’s marshes, a fact made all the more fun when you’re attempting kayaking or stand-up paddleboarding for the first time under the tutelage of the resort’s Rainbow Island Water Sports Center youthful crew.
All that mud makes tipping over a mushy, painless pleasure. Just mind those exposed oyster banks you’ll paddle past — they’ll shiv you good.
SEE SPA RUN
A sunlight-flooded plaza populated with pretty people in towels clinking rosé-filled flutes amid a grove of olive trees, all surrounding an ebullient pool, makes entering the 65,000-square-foot Mediterranean-styled Cloister Spa like warp-driving into a completely enclosed biodome in heaven. But things get even better when it’s massage time: Lengthy treatments are geared to kids and teens as well as the ‘rents.
SWINGER’S CLUB
With shaved heads smoother than tennis balls, the high-octane Jensen Brothers (Murphy and Luke) are the comedic court pros behind Sea Island’s tennis program. The racqueteers offer basic-to-advanced clinics at the Cloister’s 16 Har-Tru clay courts.
Not a fan? Keep that collared shirt on, old chap — Sea Island is also the “No. 4 ranked” golf resort in the nation.
Just pick one of its three 18-hole courses: The McGladrey Classic-hosting Seaside Course gives St. Andrews and Pebble Peach a run for their money when it comes to fairway-moisturizing ocean views; the Plantation Course snakes through challenging marsh and forest; while the tricky Retreat Course, designed by Davis Love III and Mark Love, will test the patience of even the Zen-est of golfer.
Info → From $395; seaisland.com