A Billionaire CEO, a Hamptons Town and the Endless Fight Over a Seafood Shack

MONTAUK, N.Y.—For a dozen years, Apollo Global Management CEO Marc Rowan has operated a side gig in Montauk: a seafood shack that draws celebrities and influencers with sunset views, Dom Pérignon and a $97 lobster salad.

Just don’t call it a restaurant in front of the neighbors. Many of them say it shouldn’t be there at all.

They contend the business, known as Duryea’s Lobster Deck, has never gone through the proper approval process. “Money and power should not exempt you from the same laws that we have to follow,” said Hannah Kirschner, who’s had a home nearby since 1994.

Dating back to the 1920s, the property served as a rustic bait shop. The previous owner began to expand in the 1990s, adding picnic tables and a larger deck. Amid complaints from residents, the East Hampton Zoning Board found that a full-scale restaurant wasn’t permitted, and prohibited any expansion without obtaining approvals from the town.

By the time Rowan bought the place in 2014, he inherited what his lawyer once called a “blood feud.”

Rowan, who originally had grander plans for the property but pulled back, has filed multiple lawsuits and spent years battling the local zoning board over septic systems, dock rights, and parking complaints. Along the way, he has slowly transformed Duryea’s into the upscale Cape Cod-inspired destination it is today.

After years of litigation, the dispute is remarkably back at what a judge described as “square one,” leaving the future of seaside dining on seafood towers and lobster rolls uncertain. The judge has allowed the venue to operate while the case continues.

The drama reflects broader tensions in the hamlet, the rustic counterpart to nearby Hamptons enclaves. The town has been bullish in preserving its way of life, including attempting to remove an unpermitted art installation on a rancher’s property and tamping down on noisy jets at a regional airport.

Duryea’s sits on a rugged stretch of road with no sidewalks, surrounded by marshland and sparkling bay views. Built into the undulating terrain are brick homes, shingled cottages and a longstanding dive bar.

Though Rowan’s camp insists it isn’t technically a restaurant, it has clear elements of luxury dining. Distressed wood tables and cushioned couches overlook the bay with capacity for about 100 guests. Speed boats and yachts dock along the pier. A line forms before it opens at noon. At peak times on Saturday, just before sunset, the narrow two-way street to Duryea’s is filled with cars as high-heeled and preppy patrons walk along the sloped grassy shoulder of the road.

There’s a team of uniformed servers with white shirts and gray aprons, though they don’t take orders directly; table service isn’t allowed under the current zoning restrictions. Instead they hand out clipboards with paper menus where patrons can circle what they want. Customers pay at the counter.

Rowan insists Duryea’s footprint is the same as before he bought it, saying the property, even in the old days, had a cookhouse where seafood was prepared and sold. “Duryea’s continues to be a beloved Montauk institution where families and friends come for fresh fish, shellfish, and perfect sunsets over Fort Pond Bay, as they have for decades,” a spokesman said.

The decision to do business there was personal for Rowan, who has a beach-front compound in nearby Southampton and owns several restaurants in the Hamptons.

“I have mountain biked in Montauk for better than 20 years,” he said in a deposition. “I absolutely love the place.”

Rowan said he was aware the neighborhood would be hostile based on battles it had with the previous owner. When he first bought the property, he hosted a lunch with residents for them to see his plans and air their concerns. He made sure they had his cellphone number. One neighbor said he was “technically very nice,” but the majority wasn’t swayed, and locals opposed him at every turn over the next decade.

For a brief time in 2019, it appeared there was a truce. A town lawyer and Rowan reached a settlement that blessed the property as a restaurant, with some concessions from the private-equity billionaire, including a promise to never provide ferry access.

In an unexpected municipal rift, town board members said that ship never should have sailed. They said they never saw a draft of the settlement and never adopted a formal resolution to approve it.

This May, a judge reluctantly agreed. Settlements aren’t lightly set aside, the judge said, but the facts showed that the town hadn’t ratified the agreement.

Montauk just wants its processes to be followed, said Steven Stern, a New York lawyer who is now representing the town. “Zoning is there for a reason,” he said.

Through it all, neighbors have been vigilant watchdogs, monitoring Duryea’s social media for potential malfeasance. They’ve raised concerns about a sunshade placed over the dock, a wooden walkway to connect the restaurant to handicap parking spots, and a wedding that was held on site.

Robert Pluhowski, whose family has summered next door to Duryea’s since the 1970s, said the problem goes beyond Rowan. “It’s happening throughout the whole town,” Pluhowski said. “He’s our scapegoat: the hedge fund guy who bought the mom-and-pop shop.”

He’s hopeful that the establishment’s popularity will eventually wane with the ritzy crowd.

“How much are they really going to stay in Long Island?” he asked. “It’s not the French Riviera.”