The Tale Of Mary Ann And The Ospreys Of Arvilla Resort Motel

TREASURE ISLAND, FL — Fewer sun-seeking snowbirds migrated to Arvilla Resort Motel this pandemic-plagued winter.

But in February, a couple of loud and messy squatters descended on the nearly deserted, mom-and-pop beach hotel on Gulf Boulevard.

Without the usual tourist season traffic, these nonpaying guests — two mating ospreys — started building a giant nest of twigs and driftwood atop Arvilla's neon-framed sign.

Motel caretaker Mary Ann Sabourin wasn't having it. She climbed up on the sign, stuffed the salvaged sticks and brush into plastic bags and tossed them in the trash.

"Two days later, those birds had a whole new nest built. It's like they said, 'We're staying.' I respect their determination," she said. "The fish and wildlife people said we could take it down, again. But that's not what we do here. When you stay at the Arvilla, you're family."

Since then, the ospreys did what people do in beach motels. "They got to making babies," Sabourin said. The nest became home to four eggs that the male and female defended against violent predators and storms. Ospreys are known to mate for life and use the same nest for years. The motel sign claimed for their nest was worth fighting for.

"You'd see them sitting up there no matter how bad the weather," Sabourin said. "They found this place and claimed it as their home."

Sabourin said she can relate. She moved to Treasure Island about six years ago, got a housekeeping job at the Arvilla and bonded with the owners, Jim and Brenda Maurer.

"Brenda hated me at first. She said I was too overqualified and I'd never work out," said Sabourin, who owned gas stations in Missouri before moving to Florida. "Jim hired me to do housekeeping. Now, I technically don't work here. I just help out. Brenda and me are best friends."

Meet The Ospreys

In this Gulf Coast fishing village, locals will tell you they hardly notice the brown pelicans, laughing gulls and giant birds of prey that fill the skies and stalk fishing piers for scraps.

But for this Chicago writer and my trusty navigator on a storytelling tour of America, seeing these ospreys — flapping their wide M-shaped wings and whistling "kyew-kyew" into the salty breeze just a few yards from the sidewalk — got us so excited it almost caused a wreck.

"Turn around, now!" my navigator screeched after spotting the giant birds on the hotel sign while cruising down Gulf Boulevard toward a seafood supper. I popped a U-turn into a parking lot.

The truck was still rolling when she hopped out of the passenger seat, her birding binoculars pressed against her face and pointed skyward.

The next morning, I called the Arvilla.

Sabourin answered with sales-pitch sweetness. "Greetings from a beautiful day in paradise. I hope you're having as lovely a day as we are. How can I help you with a reservation?" she said.

"Ospreys," I blurted. "I'm reporter … calling about the ospreys. The nest. On the sign."

"Oh, yes," Sabourin said. "Those are our guard birds. ... Can I help you with a reservation?"

I booked a room. Certain deck chairs by the pool offered a palm tree-framed view of ospreys taking off to hunt tiny fish for their hungry nestlings.

After more than 3,500 miles of traveling, watching those majestic birds was the best part of our trip, so far.

But they are just part of this story.

The Threat To 'Old Florida' Hospitality

The Arvilla is "Old Florida," locals and loyal visitors said. It's a muscular throwback beach getaway built in 1952 to survive hurricanes. "Strong as a brick s---house," Sabourin said. Its rooms are small with thrifted decor, cozy beds and a tiny kitchen with an electric stove top. There's a gloriously heated, 8-foot-deep pool, shuffleboard courts and Gulf views, always for a reasonable price. It's my kind of place.

Even before the coronavirus crisis, the Arvilla and dozens of roadside beach motels were threatened with extinction as salivating developers circled like vultures.

"We don't want to be Clearwater," Sabourin said of the neighboring Gulf shore fronted with high-rise resorts.

But she wouldn't mind a post-pandemic uptick in guests.

"For almost three and a half years, we've had almost no business," Sabourin said.

First, it was Hurricane Irma. Then the red tide, a foul-smelling toxic algae bloom that can make swimmers sick and cause canceled reservations. Then COVID-19. "It's just now that we're finally starting to get bookings," Sabourin said. "The owners want to keep this place alive. We all do."

Local leaders already decided, however, that the 1950s-era beach hotel next door won't survive another season. The City Council cleared the way for developers to tear down the Treasure Island Ocean Club next year and replace it with a 63-unit residential high rise that allows owners to rent units like hotel rooms when they're away.

A single two-bedroom unit in the seven-story building is listed for the pre-construction cost of $839,900. In 2004, Jim Maurer bought the entire Arvilla Resort Motel for $1.6 million.

Barry Rubin, president of the Treasure Island and Madeira Beach Chamber of Commerce, said the skyrocketing cost of Gulf-front property and construction could mean the days are numbered for aging family-owned beach hotels struggling with a lack of guests.

"The property on the Gulf itself is more valuable than ever," Rubin said. "And because it's going to take so much more [cash] to purchase the land, more chain [hotels] will want to come in. But we're committed to not losing that Old Florida charm. There can be a marriage of the two, and we have that in Treasure Island and Madeira Beach."

But the coming high-rise construction next door doesn't exactly make for a happy union, Sabourin told me.

"Our guests aren't going to be happy about being next to a demolition site," she said. "It's just another thing that makes it harder to keep this place going. But we will."

---

During our stay at the Arvilla, it was clear the motel's caretakers are more than just a band of hourly workers. Housekeeper Cindy Biedenkapp's husband chips in as a handyman. Sabourin's husband, Pete the plumber, volunteers his services when needed. And with fellow housekeeper Karen Stay, the three ladies handle the daily duties required to ensure a clean, comfortable stay for a faithful clientele of road-tripping families and international travelers drawn to a nostalgic stay.

Sabourin said she needs more help to keep up as bookings start to spike. Like so many of the Arvilla's ma-and-pa competitors on Treasure Island's main drag, the motel marquee reads: "Hiring Housekeeping."

Rubin, the chamber of commerce president, said the hospitality industry shortage is a national problem that's hit local privately owned hoteliers and restaurateurs especially hard.

Last week, the chamber held a "hospitality forum" that addressed the need for Treasure Island city leaders to provide more affordable housing and public transportation options for the cooks, bartenders and hotel staff who can't afford to live near the establishments that desperately need them by "using the right hiring tools and pay structure and benefits."

Florida's minimum wage is $8.65 —a 10-cent hike over last year. It's set to increase to $10 an hour Sept. 30 and increase a dollar a year until 2026, when the mandatory hourly wage tops out at 15 bucks.

At the Arvilla, workaday staff gets paid $10 an hour and splits tips left by visitors.

Sabourin said she hasn't gotten many applications for housekeeping jobs at the open-air motel during the summer's hottest months as tourists freed from travel restrictions start to arrive. Much of the local hospitality workforce, she contended, remains content collecting COVID-19-induced unemployment benefits that pay more than they'd make cleaning soiled hotel rooms.

On a recent steamy morning, a young woman showed up for her first day of work as Arvilla guests checked out. After being informed of the housekeeping duties ahead, the new employee excused herself to retrieve lip balm from her car and didn't return.

"A lot of people don't like to work," Sabourin said. "And this is hard work. And it's hot, and some people can't take the heat. So it's very hard to get people to stay. And some of them want to work for cash. And we don't do that here."

'That Friendly Feel'

Happy guests, such as Brian Pennington and his wife, took advantage of the currently high vacancy rate to extend their stay at the Arvilla Resort Motel.

The Penningtons unexpectedly added a couple extra days to their visit from Ohio after falling in love with the charming two-story motel.

---

"We like it here because it's a mom-and-pop place. That's the main thing. We travel quite a bit, and we like that friendly feel when you walk in. This place has it. The room has a nice little kitchen, and the bed is super comfy. It's clean, close to the beach, and having Mary Ann and Cindy here has made it a great stay," he said.

"It's our first day. We were here for 11 days. It's not like we're super rich. This is a place we can afford. … I hope they can keep this place going, because we're definitely coming back."

"Like the ospreys," I said. "Find a place that feels like home and come back to it."

Pennington didn't love the birds as much as we did. He said he first spotted the birds from a poolside view. And on the third day, "that's when they decided to use my car as a toilet. Completely, absolutely covered the hood. It looked like it had snowed," he said. "Guess they wanted us to know that they were there."

We shared a good laugh as Pennington loaded his freshly washed SUV for the journey home.

After packing up Room 103, I snapped a photo of our endangered Old Florida "king suite."

We bid farewell to Mary Ann and the ospreys of the Arvilla Resort Motel.

You should visit. But when you do — don't park under the sign.

Mark Konkol, recipient of the 2011 Pulitzer Prize for local reporting, wrote and produced the Peabody Award-winning series "Time: The Kalief Browder Story." He was a producer, writer and narrator for the "Chicagoland" docuseries on CNN and a consulting producer on the Showtime documentary "16 Shots."

This summer, follow KONKOL ON THE ROAD:

• Politics Of Violence In Chicago Has Status Quo Pushing For A Boss
• Catching Up With Chicago Celebrity Alligator Robb In The Wild
• The Search For IL Gov. Pritzker In Florida's Equestrian Capital
• Finding Romance On The Road At Giant Beaver-Themed Gas Station
• Activist Jedidiah Brown Ended 'Abusive' Relationship With Chicago
• In Atlanta, Everybody Influences Everything For Better And Worse
• It's 'Insane' Chicago Isn't The Sweet Home Of A Blues Museum
• Time To Drive — Out Of The Land Of Fakequity and Faux Reforms