Forged in fire.
For decades, Fire Island Pines, the historic gay community located on the edge of the barrier island, has been a reliable haven for gay men who hop on a ferry to let loose every summer.
But as another sweltering season of debauchery kicks off, the community is currently being shaken up like the strong cups of boozy Pines Punch typically sipped there.
Enter Tryst Hospitality and its gregarious tycoon Tristan Schukraft, who inked a contract last year to acquire 75% of the fabled Fire Island Pines commercial district — a complex that has exchanged hands more than a few times since it came into being in the late 1950s.
“I’ve never felt more excitement and optimism at the beginning of the new season as I feel this year,” Henry Robin, the President of the Fire Island Property Owners Association, told The Post. “We’re all optimistic about the improvements that he’s making.”
“It’s really exciting for what may be the single most famous gay community in the world,” said longtime homeowner Andrew Kirtzman, a political consultant and journalist who previously co-owned the business district from 2000 to 2015.
Said Kirtzman, “Tristan seems to have his heart in the right place and he has the means to make upgrades.”
For the new ownership, it was a cool $17 million deal for the beating heart of the bustling seasonal community that accounts for the only place besides the beach for the local masses to convene, including multiple bars, clubs, a gym and a storied hotel to be known as the Tryst — built as the Botel and still referred to by its original name by many.
“When I found out it was for sale, I was immediately interested,” Schukraft told The Post of the gargantuan purchase which led the Wall Street Journal to dub him “The Man Who Bought Fire Island.”
Out west, Schukraft previously took over the reins of the historic Los Angeles gay bar the Abbey, and in April, he opened the Tryst Puerto Vallarta, a luxury hotel which had a starry opening bash attended by the likes of Jennifer Coolidge and Demi Lovato.
However, Schukraft confesses of what he calls his Pines passion project: “At the end of the day, these are not great investments.”
“Even buying the Abbey wasn’t a great investment. People would say: ‘Oh, the land is so valuable underneath the Abbey!’ But what am I going to do, sell it and build condos? I’ll never be able to do that. “
A centerpiece of his myriad of plans for a revamped Fire Island Pines include renovating the Botel building, which has been gutted and will turn into a sleek boutique.
“When I first went there, I met the Fire Marshal and joked, ‘Hey, if a fire breaks out, no rush,’” he says of the dilapidated structure, which formerly had shared bathrooms.
As a result, the ongoing updates are the talk of the island.
“They’re making the most of the shelled-out carcass of it as it undergoes renovation,” pointed out Jon Barrett, an editor based in Brooklyn who has a home in Fire Island.
“I loved recently seeing the go-go boys dancing in what remains of the cinder-blocked window frames.”
“When we first heard about the new ownership last year, it was a mix of excitement for fresh blood, fresh ideas and a fresh take on everything,” said Naoum Naoumov, a Brooklyn tech worker who has a home in the Pines.
Schukraft is also planning on opening a spa and a revamp of the Blue Whale, the historic nightspot that helped launch a nationwide LGBTQ phenomenon back in 1966 — the Tea Dance, a sunset party after a busy day at the beach.
“After this season, we’re going to tear it down and rebuild it to two levels,” Schukraft says, noting they plan to preserve its tile floor, which depicts the titular mammal in its name.
Meanwhile, the Pavilion, another bar and club on the island which embodies an impressive history, is also set for a makeover.
Schukraft has plans to tear it down and re-create the space as it originally looked before it was demolished in 2006.
Back at the Home Association, Robin notes that there’s been an overall “generational shift” on the island.
“Over the last five years, a third of our homes have changed ownership,” he says of an influx of younger full-time residents, no doubt influenced by the pandemic-influenced work-from-home culture.
“I’m excited that the Pines is getting some love,” said Ivan Valladares, a 30-year-old communications specialist who has been visiting the area since 2018.
“The community is ever-changing — like its shoreline,” he mused, alluding to a plight of beach erosion the US Army Corps of Engineers has been tackling.
“Long Island’s iconic beaches are a treasured natural resource and I’m doing everything in my power to protect them for the next generation,” Gov. Kathy Hochul said at the time, with the sight of massive equipment a fixture on the shore as of late.
However, Naoumov notes: “At the same time, there’s a little bit of concern as this is affecting the majority of the town and there’s a lot of power that goes with that, with changes to the culture and the community. It can affect things drastically.”
And some worry about the ever-increasing cost of enjoying an already-expensive island.
Said Naoumov: “With a lot of big investment, the owner is probably going to want to recoup those prices.”
Schukraft, meanwhile, says he plans to make the Pines more accessible to all — Fire Island as a whole famously boasts limited accommodations, beyond the private homes that cluster along its boardwalks.
“I always hear so many people want to go but have never been, because if you’re not part of a clique or you don’t have the connections, it’s difficult to find a house. So having the hotel will really open up Fire Island to so many more people.”
Zak Stone, owner of the management company Saint One, has been coming to Fire Island since 2019 and is “excited to see the taste level slowly improve when it comes to music and nightlife.”
“The new ownership in the Pines has the potential to build on this progress by curating more diverse talent.”
Overall, Schukraft points to the area’s rich history for his passion for the area, from its ’50s-era infancy, the wild ’70s club days, to the community becoming a haven during the scourge of the AIDS crisis in the ’80s and ’90s.
“When people couldn’t get a doctor in the city, they came to the Pines Clinic, so it’s been an important community in so many ways throughout the generations.”
As Naoumov stated: “Overall people are cautious, but things are looking good.”
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