Drawing a Line
Cape May Didn't Wait. Why Is Ocean City?
In late 2022, developer Eustace Mita unveiled plans for a luxury Icona hotel at the site of Cape May’s historic Beach Theatre. The public got slick renderings. A polished presentation. Promises of economic windfalls.
But no formal application.
That didn’t stop Cape May’s mayor and city solicitor from acting. They responded directly to Mita’s legal team and made their position clear: The proposed height and scale were incompatible with Cape May’s historic character. Zoning rules existed for a reason. And while investment was welcome, the city wouldn’t abandon its identity to chase a developer’s vision. No zoning relief would even be considered unless meaningful public benefit was offered.
They didn’t wait for a filing. They didn’t play dumb. They didn’t pretend it wasn’t their lane.
They led.
Meanwhile, in Ocean City...
Mita has followed the same playbook here. Public presentations. Big promises. No formal submission. Just splashy events and press coverage to lay the groundwork.
In July 2023, he proposed building a hotel at 500 Boardwalk—on land owned by the City of Ocean City. He stood in front of Council and the public and pitched a hotel on municipal property.
In November and December 2024, he returned with a new site: 600 Boardwalk, the former Wonderland Pier. Again, he rolled out renderings, amenities, and a carefully crafted sense of inevitability.
Again, no formal application.
But unlike Cape May’s leadership, Ocean City’s Council responded with silence. Their refrain? “Nothing official has been submitted.” At this point in time, this is an excuse for a lack of action.
Council Knows What’s Coming—And So Does the Public
Every Council member has seen Mita’s renderings. They’ve heard the pitch. And every one of them is already on record saying that a high-rise is inappropriate for the ON-BD Boardwalk zone. One Councilman even said that any version resembling the 2023 proposal—the one for 500 Boardwalk—would be an automatic no.
So we suggest to Council members—say it again. Publicly. Unequivocally. Before it’s too late.
Because what’s happening now is strategy.
Mita has already lined up “support letters” from the Boardwalk Merchants Association and the Downtown Merchants Association. But these endorsements are paper-thin. The meetings were sparsely attended, with only a handful of votes cast—barely enough for a quorum, let alone a mandate. They were orchestrated to project a consensus that doesn’t actually exist, based on a false choice that doesn’t exist either: a luxury hotel or a rusting amusement park. As the head of the Boardwalk Merchants Association put it: “It’s a hotel or nothing.”
This summer, with Wonderland’s arcade and pizzeria partially reopening, we shouldn’t be surprised if the two acres of high-visibility Boardwalk real estate become a billboard for the hotel—Icona logos, glossy posters, promotional videos, QR codes linking to "support this project" forms, and sales language masquerading as inevitability.
It’ll feel like a done deal. And none of the drawbacks will be highlighted; the likelihood that with overturned zoning, many other high-rise hotels will spring up on our boardwalk, stripping away its character, benefiting a few landlords at the public’s expense. That, without entertainment options, pedestrians will have little reason to turn north and visit those shops and restaurants. That it’s unlikely a 250-room hotel can be profitable without serving alcohol.
And that’s the danger: the illusion of inevitability becomes self-fulfilling—if no one in power says otherwise.
The Role of Council Is to Dispel That Notion
Whether for or against the hotel, Ocean City’s elected officials have a responsibility to speak clearly:
This is not a done deal.
No application has been filed.
And any future proposal will be held to the highest scrutiny—starting with our zoning laws.
That message alone could stop the misinformation wave in its tracks.
All Negotiations Start With “No”
This isn’t about being hostile to development. It’s about setting the terms.
If Mita wants tax breaks, zoning relief, and permission to build a 252-room hotel in a zone where hotels are not even permitted, then Council must start where all serious negotiations begin:
With a firm and public “No.”
Not until there’s a meaningful public benefit.
Not until the project fits the scale and character of the Boardwalk.
Not until the neighbors—residents, shopowners, and longtime visitors—see a plan that works for everyone.
Because compromise is fine.
But you don’t get there by whispering behind closed doors.
You get there by stating your position clearly, early, and on the record.
In Cape May, the hotel project has quietly stalled—not because of economic headwinds, but because city officials made their position clear from the start. They sent a message: this town won't rewrite its zoning code on speculation. And guess what? The developer hasn’t filed an application there either.
Cape May drew a line—and the line held.
Ocean City should be bold enough to draw its own.