Quintessential ambassador of an unchanging era steps down at Pawleys Island

PAWLEYS ISLAND — Many of the oceanfront bungalows secluded here among the twisting salt oak trees look the same as 100 years ago, passionately protected by the generations of families inhabiting the island against the hectic pace and development of modern times.

Change is a notion scoffed at when it comes to the rustic architecture and the genteel attitude of the wealthy folks who live here, as well as the homeowners who rent properties inherited from great-grandparents in order to afford sky-rocketing property taxes that come with oceanfront living.

But transition is most certainly on the horizon for this charming spit of land.

Bill Otis, Jr., the mayor of Pawleys Island for nearly 20 years, will not seek reelection.

It will be a shake-up for a community that has hummed along in harmony since its rocky inception of incorporation in 1985 — bound together in their determination to keep out high-rise development and property tax grabs by Georgetown County.

It was a few years later during the controversial annexation of property known as the Prince George tract — a 1,900 acre development stretching from the Waccamaw River to the Atlantic Ocean — that divided the town and prompted Otis to get involved in politics.

The Otis family owned property on the island since the 1950s, and Bill grew up here fishing in the creek and splashing in the ocean, but he and wife Alice did not permanently relocate until the mid 1990s.

“When I moved here, this island was in turmoil,” Otis said. “My predecessor was basically a lightning rod of dissent and a lot of the lightening, he caused.”

The annexation sent his blood pressure to a boiling point, so Otis did something about it.

He ran for a city council seat, and he won.

When Mayor Julian Kelly was indicted for threats he made to a Sun News writer who was reporting on the annexation deal, and later removed from office by the governor, Otis stepped up to the plate and ran for mayor.

He has never been challenged for reelection.

“I hope it’s because I have done what they wanted, and not too much of it,” Otis said, determinedly sticking to his platform of less change is better.

Islanders have since been successful in preventing the construction of high-rises and oversized oceanfront mansions by imposing strict zoning laws that mandate houses cannot be larger than 4,000 square feet.

If they want something bigger, they can go to DeBordieu, Otis said.

He claims that the secret to his success is to “love what you’re doing, love why you’re doing it.”

But more likely, it’s the passion he shares with fellow islanders to keep the outside world at bay, the strength to rebuild after destructive storms and hurricanes ravage the shores, and the fairness to judge 4th of July parades and the best decorated home during the patriotic holiday.

Competition for those $6 trophies among the islanders is fierce.

Otis fondly recalls delivering one such trophy on his bicycle to a family along the southern tip that were champions when it came to 4th of July decorating.

Three trophies won in previous years were proudly on display in the center of the dining room table surrounded by a holiday summer feast, and the generations gathered there cheered with thunderous applause at their new prize.

Those were the good times, Otis says.

The tough times are the hurricanes — Hazel and Hugo, the back-to-back storms in recent years including Hurricane Matthew that drove the ocean to meet the creek and literally deposited the beach dunes onto the roadway.

“It was a learning experience,” says Otis, who has worked doggedly to get state and federal authorities to deliver a much-needed beach renourishment project for the disappearing shoreline.

With zero development on the island and no income tax collection, the only source of revenue is accommodation taxes, from which the island has banked $5 million for the $13 million renourishment project.

The needed permits and other paperwork will finally be submitted next week, and the island will borrow the final $2 million required to get matching money from the state.

Otis has spent years laying the groundwork for the project, it will be up to his predecessor to see it through fruition.

When Otis was not busy building support to protect and rebuild the beaches, he was leading successful challenges to block box store development plans on the other side of the causeway that islanders maintain is not in keeping with Pawleys long-established character and tranquility.

And then there was the controversy that turned neighbor against neighbor — what to do about all of the cats?

“We were overrun with feral cats and as soon as it got in the paper, we had a roomful of people; half were cat lovers, half were cat haters, and in the middle were bird lovers,” Otis said. “We all went round and round and decided on a trap, neuter and release program.”

The town also had to pass a law that cats could only be fed on private property, because the mainlanders were feeding a whole tribe of them in the nearby woods, Otis said.

“If this is the only thing that fills the room, I think we’re doing okay,” Otis said.

Being the mayor has unique demands for a unique population, where Main Street is the beach, and the faces are ever-changing.

About 300 to 400 people live on the island year-round, napping in their hammocks by the ocean before tracking sand through the house to go fishing on the creek-side docks.

That number swells to 6,000 in the summertime, yet maintains its hometown atmosphere because generations of the same family return year after year, Otis said.

There are no amusement parks on Pawlyes, no boardwalk, restaurants or shopping of any kind, no commercial activity at all except for the renting of beach houses.

That’s a necessity of 70 percent of the property owners here, who are the generational families trying to hang onto the homes they’ve inherited.

Keeping Pawleys as it has been for generations is the driving marketing force that prompts other families to pay upward of $5,000 a week in the summertime to rent those houses, so they too can experience those days gone by.

“My legacy here, is that Pawleys hasn’t changed,” Otis said.

“We are different here, we’re not like anywhere else because we don’t have all the trappings,” Otis said. “We haven’t made it complicated, and people like that.”

Keeping it simple, delivering essential city services and retaining the culture that makes Pawleys Island what it is, that’s the mayor’s job.

But after 20 years of being a good steward of the island, its beach and the creek, Otis says it’s time to turn that job over to the next generation.

This story was originally published January 20, 2017 at 9:39 AM with the headline "Quintessential ambassador of an unchanging era steps down at Pawleys Island."