Horsey Florida town’s council OKs controversial development in equestrian preserve

A drone flies above where developers want to build The Wellington South, via Maureen Brennan.

The best job I ever had was as an assistant horse wrangler at a summer camp. I liked it for two reasons: One, I got paid to ride horses on wooded trails every day. And two, if anything went wrong, I wasn’t responsible, because I was just the assistant.

I mention this to explain that I do know one end of a horse from the other. So, trust me when I tell you that the council members of the town of Wellington are behaving like the north end of a southbound stallion. And they’re definitely responsible for it.

Wellington is a town in Palm Beach County that’s all about horsing around. It’s one of two horse-centric towns in Florida. Ocala, in Central Florida, produces lots of racehorses. Wellington, in South Florida, is all about polo, dressage, and show jumping.

Horses are so important to the folks in Wellington that in 2002 the town created the Equestrian Preserve Overlay District on its zoning map. It’s designed to protect 9,000 acres for low-density development for horse-owners, providing plenty of green space with riding trails.

But as we have seen time and again, “preserve” doesn’t mean the same thing in Florida that it does in Webster’s Dictionary.

A developer named Mark Bellissimo tried twice to win approval for higher density building in the preserve. Both times, he was told no. The second time, the voters even toughened preserve protections.

But Bellissimo came back, this time pushing plans for an “Equestrian Village” that includes a hotel, commercial buildings, and 270 high-end condominiums, plus 197 luxury villas.

Critics say this is a clear violation of the preserve’s voter-approved rules. Lots of residents opposed it. Bumper stickers sprouted all over town saying “Horses, Not Houses.”

The Equestrian Preserve Committee voted unanimously to recommend the town hand Bellissimo a third rejection . The planning and zoning board recommended approval of half but either denying or delaying the other half.

But when his application reached the Village Council, the answer was yes .

One of the four council members who voted for the project insisted that Bellissimo’s proposal represented Wellington’s only chance to ensure the growth of its equestrian industry.

“The community was overwhelmingly opposed to the applications,” said Jane Cleveland, who until recently chaired the preserve committee. “Despite this, the elected councilmembers approved development in the preserve saying they would ‘save us from ourselves.’ The truth is that Wellington needs saving from its elected representatives.”

Acme’s boomerang

As with many Florida towns, Wellington has an … oh, let’s say “interesting” history. This one starts with a Northerner who splurged on Florida swampland.

In 1951, a New York accountant and investor named Charles Oliver Wellington, on the recommendation of a Pompano Beach real estate broker nicknamed “Bink,” bought 16,000 acres of undeveloped land. He didn’t need to spend much money on it, because it was mostly submerged.

“The area he purchased frequently flooded with water,” reports the town’s official history, (not explaining what else it could have been flooded with — ketchup?). “That really is not surprising because Wellington’s southwestern boundary is the Florida Everglades.”

But fear not, the Legislature knows how to manipulate nature! Shortly after Wellington’s land purchase, Florida created the Acme Drainage District. It was put under the control of — who else? — good old Bink.

As any fan of the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote can tell you, “Acme” means the best, the tops, the finest kind. In Looney Tunes cartoons , it’s the source of anvils that fall on the buyer, boomerangs that take down the thrower, and jet-propelled pogo sticks that inevitably crash the rider into a boulder.

The Acme district drained all Wellington’s land for him, which made it dry enough for farming. At one point, the town we now call Wellington was the world’s largest strawberry patch.

But as with all Acme products, there was an unintended consequence. In this case, Bink’s extensive drainage contributed to the slow death of the River of Grass, which you and I are now paying $16 billion to fix .

Wellington’s own death in 1959 led to his son’s decision to develop portions of the property to raise capital to pay for estate taxes, thus creating the town.

Eventually, much of the property wound up in the hands of an electronics corporation named Gould Inc. In 1978, its chairman, a Chicago businessman named Bill Ylvisaker, brought polo to the little village 15 miles west of Palm Beach.

Ylvisaker built the Palm Beach Polo and Country Club. Suddenly, the town became a place to see beautiful people. Princess Diana cheered on Prince Charles, while Zsa Zsa Gabor, Estee Lauder, and Joan Collins were spotted in the stands. For once, all that glittered was Gould’s.

Wellington was incorporated in 1995 and the 2020 Census counted 61,637 residents. It now calls itself the “Winter Equestrian Capital of the World.” At the height of the season, up to 20,000 horses can be found clip-clopping around Wellington.

Then Bellissimo came galloping in.

Bringing sexy back?

Bellissimo, a Boston native, was more interested in hockey than horses until his wife and daughter became riders.

“When our children were young, they took lessons at a barn near our house in New Hampshire, and my wife, Katherine, began riding, too,” he said . “We started traveling the show circuits, which led us to Wellington.”

The real estate developer started snapping up equestrian complexes all over. He wound up running the village’s Winter Equestrian Festival, touted as the largest and longest running hunter/jumper event in the world.

He and his wife “were perhaps the most powerful couple in the American horse world,” a publication called The Real Deal reported. “The couple owned and managed the Colorado Horse Park in Parker, Colorado; the International Polo Club and Palm Beach International Equestrian Center in Wellington; and Tryon International Equestrian Center at Tryon Resort in Mill Spring, North Carolina. They also bought the Chronicle of the Horse, a preeminent equestrian magazine.”

But then, the day after Christmas in 2018, he filed for divorce . The proceedings have been messier than the Augean stables before Hercules turned the river loose on it.

Earlier this year, his ex-wife sued her own divorce attorneys , accusing them of bungling her case and costing her millions. She did win custody of the couple’s 20-acre estate and sold it last year for $21.9 million .

Bellissimo married another horse fancier and bought another Wellington mansion. Meanwhile, he has set his sights on demolishing the preserve boundaries with new development.

To do so, he brought on some well-heeled partners, including British billionaire developer Joe Lewis, who recently pleaded guilty to insider trading.

He even touted the involvement of star golfers Tiger Woods and Ernie Els and wardrobe malfunction participant Justin Timberlake to “bring sexy back to South Florida.” (Here’s hoping he didn’t consult Woods for marriage advice .)

However, lots of Wellington residents didn’t find their plans sexy at all.

His company, Wellington Lifestyle Partners, tried to persuade the village to approve its plans for intense building inside the preserve in 2012. The town said no.

Bellissimo tried again in 2016. This time, local residents so opposed his plans that they voted for a referendum that toughened the preserve’s protections from such proposals.

“The proposal led to record-breaking contributions to village elections and a vote where residents barred hotels, motels, [condominiums] and apartments from the preserve,” the Palm Beach Post reported. In addition, “the equestrian committee, planning and zoning board, and Village Council all must approve any development there.”

Nevertheless, he persisted. In 2022 he presented a proposal he called “Wellington 3.0.”

“The project … would include two communities, one with 270 high-end condominiums and 30 homes next to a commercial area with the hotel, restaurants, and retail space,” the Post reported . “Another would build 197 luxury villas on an empty corner.”

He also promised to build a man-made lagoon for aquatic activities, a sports complex, and a 10-hole golf course.

He said he’d need all this development to pay for expanding Wellington’s showgrounds. He insisted the overhaul was necessary so Wellington could stay competitive with Ocala, which now has a World Equestrian Center .

If the village told him no this time, he vowed he would close the Equestrian Village, period. Such a move to pressure a local government made me nostalgic for the old Florida Department of Community Affairs, which could have stepped in and forced everyone to abide by the preserve designation. Unfortunately, former Gov. Rick Scott gunned down the old DCA like a horse with a not-broken leg.

The prospect of such intense development replacing a section of the bucolic preserve drew opposition not only from Wellington residents but also from the smart growth group 1000 Friends of Florida

“This one got our attention,” explained Paul Owens, president of 1000 Friends. “Removing land that was promised to be saved for conservation to do a development is wrong.”

The group warned that if Wellington said yes to this first application to invade the preserve, it wouldn’t be the last such request.

The next domino

This week I talked to Mayor Michael Napoleone , who was vice mayor when the skittish council approved Bellissimo’s two-pronged project.

At the end of a six-hour meeting in February, about 18 months after the plans were first unveiled, he was on the losing end of a 4-1 vote that approved The Wellington North. He joined his colleagues in the unanimous vote in favor of The Wellington South.

“I didn’t think the project merited taking land out of the preserve,” he told me.

The discussions before the vote became so heated that, at the request of Bellissimo’s attorney, the council removed two longtime members from the Equestrian Preserve Committee for displaying such obvious passion — one of them Jane Cleveland.

During the council meeting, Napoleono made what I thought was a good point: There was no reason to take land out of preserve for houses unless the horse show was expanded. That was supposed to be the whole point, right? Yet the plans did not specify when or how that would happen.

So far, he told me, “It hasn’t happened yet. I’ve not seen it expanded. They’re just moving it from one place to another.”

Preserve fans are still upset about the council’s decision, he told me, but there’s no avenue for appeal. Some tried to buy the land from Bellissimo for $25 million but he rejected the deal. They recently failed to get the council to reconsider the vote based on what they called misrepresentations by the developers.

The mayor didn’t use this specific phrase but, basically, he told me the folks who are still trying to stop Bellissimo are beating a dead horse.

The opponents were so angry at the council, they even made an attempt to recall some of the council members who voted for it.

I talked to one of the people who led the recall drive, which she said was not successful because they ran out of time to collect signatures. Maureen Brennan remains furious about what’s happened to the preserve, and I can see why.

“We are being assaulted from every direction by developers because the council has opened the door and knocked over the first domino,” Brennan told me.

The second domino fell this week.

Frank McCourt, former owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers and the billionaire who’s talked about buying Tik Tok , proposed building a cluster of 40 homes on 80 acres of polo fields in the equestrian preserve.

The 80 acres ‘once were owned by John Goodman , the disgraced polo magnate now serving time in prison following his conviction in a vehicular-manslaughter case that drew international attention,” the Post noted. “Goodman sold the property to Bellissimo in 2016 … [who] in 2022 dealt the 80 acres to a company affiliated with McCourt for $52 million.”

Seems to me that, after horseback riding, the top sport in Wellington is land speculation.

Next generation takes the reins

The last person I spoke to about what I’ve come to think of as “the Wellington War” was Bellissimo’s daughter, Paige Bellissimo Nuñez. She’s executive vice president of Wellington Lifestyle Partners.

She told me she’s an equestrian herself, so she understands the need for horses to have space.

She said her father no longer holds the reins of the company. He’s still an investor, but he’s now too busy with a project in North Carolina to oversee construction here.

She assured me they are indeed planning to expand the horse show, despite what the mayor said. When I inquired about some recent reports that her company was being investigated by federal officials for unpermitted wetlands destruction on the site, she told me that’s been resolved too.

I couldn’t resist asking her about that second domino. She didn’t want to talk specifics about McCourt’s proposal, but she told me that generally anyone else’s plans would be different from what her organization has been working on.

“This is different and unique,” she told me. “I don’t think any other property makes sense in the rest of the preserve.”

We agreed, though, that it would depend on what the council decides. I wonder if, next time, they will be nearly as easy to stampede.