The Ocean House

Some hotels are destinations. Others become traditions. 

Images courtesy of the Ocean House

Perched high above the Atlantic in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, Ocean House has occupied that rare space for more than 150 years. The iconic yellow Victorian hotel feels deeply tied to a disappearing kind of coastal elegance, one rooted not in performance, but in ritual, tradition, and return. 

The first thing I noticed arriving at Ocean House was how little it felt like a modern resort. There was no sense of spectacle or excess. Instead, the property carries the kind of quiet confidence that only comes with history. The yellow facade rises above the bluff almost exactly as it did generations ago, overlooking the Atlantic with the kind of presence that immediately explains why families have returned here for decades. 

Originally opened in 1868, shortly after the Civil War, Ocean House quickly became one of the East Coast’s most beloved seaside retreats. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Watch Hill emerged as a summer destination for prominent families from across the Eastern Seaboard seeking cooler ocean air, privacy, and a slower rhythm along the Atlantic. Ocean House became central to that world,  a gathering place for long seaside summers filled with croquet on the lawn, veranda cocktails, sailing excursions, and dinners overlooking the Atlantic. 

But what makes Ocean House particularly fascinating is not simply its history — it is the fact that it still exists at all. 

By the early 2000s, the original structure had fallen into significant disrepair. Entire sections of the building were no longer usable, and plans emerged to demolish the hotel entirely. Local preservationists fiercely opposed the loss of what had become the last remaining Victorian-era beachfront hotel on mainland Rhode Island. What followed became one of the most ambitious preservation projects in modern hospitality. 

Under the ownership of Charles and Deborah Royce, the property underwent a meticulous reconstruction and reopened in 2010. Rather than creating a contemporary reinterpretation, the Royces focused on restoring the hotel to the spirit and architectural integrity of its early twentieth-century height while discreetly integrating modern comforts beneath the surface. Original details were salvaged whenever possible, from fireplaces to millwork proportions, preserving the emotional character of the property rather than simply recreating its appearance. 

That sense of continuity is what makes staying here feel different. 

The guestrooms and suites are elegant without feeling overly designed, layered with marble baths, custom furnishings, plush linens, and in many cases fireplaces and private terraces overlooking the water. My own room felt residential in the best possible way, as though I had arrived at a private coastal estate rather than a traditional hotel. 

And then there is the art. 

One evening before dinner, I wandered through the property and unexpectedly found myself completely immersed in the hotel’s art collection. What many guests do not expect upon arrival is that Ocean House houses one of the most significant private hotel art collections in the country. The Royces, longtime collectors, transformed the property into something closer to a living gallery dedicated to the glamour, wit, and leisure culture of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.  At the center of the collection is Ludwig Bemelmans, the famed illustrator behind the Madeline books. 

The Bemelmans Gallery at Ocean House contains the largest permanent private collection of his work on public display in North America, including original sketches, hotel drawings, murals, and illustrations connected to his life working at the Ritz-Carlton in New York.  

The connection feels particularly fitting here. Bemelmans spent much of his career illustrating the elegance — and absurdity — of hotel society life. His celebrated “Farewell to the Ritz” series, displayed throughout Ocean House, captures hospitality from the perspective of those working quietly behind the scenes.  Perhaps most extraordinary are the restored fresco murals from Bemelmans’ Paris bistro, La Colombe. After the restaurant closed, the murals were removed from the walls and stored for years in the French countryside before Deborah and Charles Royce traveled to France to acquire and restore them for Ocean House.  

The result is a hotel where art is not confined to a single room. It unfolds quietly through corridors, lounges, staircases, and intimate corners, becoming part of the emotional atmosphere of the stay itself. 

On my first morning, yoga began just after sunrise in the movement studio overlooking the Atlantic. By the time class ended, the coastline had shifted from gray to soft blue and the entire property was only beginning to wake. Later, at the Forbes Five-Star Ocean & Harvest Spa, the saltwater lap pool overlooked the ocean while steam drifted quietly through the relaxation rooms. The spa feels grounded in stillness rather than spectacle 

But perhaps the most memorable experience during my stay unfolded underground. 

At the Center for Wine & Culinary Arts, I attended a South African wine tasting that unfolded more like an intimate dinner party than a traditional tasting. As the sommelier guided guests through the vineyards, regions, and stories behind each bottle, the chef created a distinct pairing for every wine, bringing another dimension to the experience— the kind of atmosphere Ocean House understands so well: refined, intimate, and never rigid. 

Dinner afterward at COAST carried that same balance. The restaurant’s Forbes Five-Star distinction is evident in the precision of the cuisine, but what lingered most was the atmosphere itself: candlelight reflecting against the windows, the ocean just beyond the terrace, a dining room that feels elegant without trying too hard. 

The following afternoon, oysters arrived at the Verandah Raw Bar overlooking the Atlantic while sailboats moved quietly through the distance. Nearby, guests settled into beach cabanas, played croquet on the lawn, or boarded the restored 1937 yacht Aphrodite, once frequented by luminaries including Shirley Temple, Fred Astaire, Nelson Rockefeller, and President Roosevelt.  

What Ocean House ultimately preserves is not simply architecture, but a certain rhythm of summer — one shaped by long lunches, ocean air, and evenings that stretch effortlessly late. 

There is an intentional slowness to the property. People linger longer at dinner. Morning coffee stretches into hours. The ocean becomes part of the rhythm of the day rather than simply the view. That may be why Ocean House continues to endure while so many grand hotels become trapped between nostalgia and reinvention. 

Images courtesy of the Ocean House