The Devon Dilemma in Amagansett and The Yacht Club That Couldn’t Feed Itself

Amid a bitter members’ civil war, Devon Yacht Club’s kitchen just got hit with an immigration problem it never saw coming.

Even by the standards of this particularly messy summer, Devon Yacht Club managed to outdo itself. Lawsuits, high-profile ejections, and members fighting over whether to tear down their beloved clubhouse — but this week, the much-whispered-about club in Amagansett actually had to close its prized restaurant. Because of paperwork.

The trouble started with a letter, one of those carefully worded missives that can only mean bad news for an institution priding itself on poise. Several kitchen staff, the backbone of Devon’s dining scene and most of the Hamptons, had unforseen visa problems. Their H-2B seasonal work permits ran out, and suddenly, the club, which leans hard on international cooks during peak season, didn’t have enough hands to plate the Chilean branzino. Wednesday’s dinner was scrapped outright. Thursday, same story. By Friday’s lunch, management promised to limp along with a pared-down menu — more “survival rations” than the full white-tablecloth treatment.

To soften the blow, someone tried to spin Thursday’s dinner into a stripped-back bar menu. Not exactly what you’d expect for an initiation fee that of around $100,000. In that same letter, club leaders admitted this was a hassle for everyone — staff, diners, and definitely the managers stuck scrambling for new cooks before the weekend rush. Wishful thinking, maybe, but they held out hope things might improve.

Visa Drama and a Wall of Silence

The club’s response to outside questions? Silence. No one responded for comment.

Visa drama is a new flavor of public mess for Devon, which was founded in 1908 by blue-blood families with Procter & Gamble and Lever Brothers money. It’s a place that usually prides itself on discretion. The road doesn’t point to it. You’d need a map, and probably a member, to find Devon Colony at all. Famous faces, like Paul McCartney, Michael Novogratz, Alec Baldwin, but mostly, it’s the kind of club where no one says much, and that’s the point.

The club’s gutted by a civil war over a $35 million renovation plan — demolish the clubhouse or just fix it? Neither side is budging, so now there are lawsuits flying, members tossed out mid-season, real-life shouting matches in online forums and town meetings. Not a great look for a place where exclusivity is a selling point.

Back in March, the drama peaked: a lawsuit from ousted members accused a board member of threatening to gouge out an opponent’s eyes over the clubhouse fight. Against that backdrop, a scrapped dinner service sounds almost quaint. But if you paid six figures to get in, you expect a hot meal — even during a mutiny.