The shark is watching you.
It’s the first thing you notice when you walk into Salivar’s Clam & Chowder House on West Lake Drive in Montauk. Mounted high on the wall, grinning with frozen menace, sits the head of a 4,500-pound great white shark. A man named Frank Mundus caught it in June 1964. He would go on to inspire one of cinema’s most iconic characters.
Forget the $50 cocktails at the Surf Lodge. Skip the Instagram influencers jockeying for golden-hour content at Gurney’s. This grinning monster is the real Montauk, preserved in taxidermy. It hangs behind a bar where commercial fishermen once gathered at 5 a.m. to fuel up before heading out to sea.
Sixty Years of Feeding Montauk’s Fishing Community
The building at 470 West Lake Drive has been feeding Montauk’s fishing community for more than sixty years. For much of that time, it operated simply as Salivar’s. Picture a funky half-bar, half-diner where walls were plastered with photographs of weathered captains holding their catches. Coffee flowed around the clock.
In 2014, the Devlin family moved their beloved Clam & Chowder House operation into the space. Two Montauk institutions merged into one. They kept what mattered: the grandfathered red neon sign still glowing over the harbor. They kept the shark head watching over the proceedings. And they kept the commitment to serving whatever the commercial boats brought in that morning.
The Monster Man and His Trophy
You cannot understand Salivar’s without understanding Frank Mundus. Born in New Jersey in 1925, Mundus arrived in Montauk in 1951. He proceeded to invent recreational shark fishing as a category. He called it “Monster Fishing.” His boat, the Cricket II, became the vessel of choice for anyone seeking something prehistoric from the Atlantic.
A Character Straight Out of Central Casting
Mundus painted his big toenails red and green for port and starboard. He wore a hoop earring, an Australian slouch hat, and a shark tooth necklace. He famously remarked that the charter business was “90 percent show and 10 percent go.”
But the man could fish. In 1986, he and fellow captain Donnie Braddick landed a 3,427-pound great white by rod and reel. That catch still stands as the largest fish ever taken that way.
A Shrine to Old Montauk
The shark head at Salivar’s predates that record. Mundus harpooned this one in 1964, back when such methods were legal. He gave it to Pete Chimpouckchis, the longtime proprietor of the original Salivar’s. Chimpouckchis raised the roof in the space where the head was to be displayed. One writer described it as “a shrine where people came in recent years to pay their respects.” They honored both the now-departed Mundus and a rapidly-changing Montauk. The original bar was “the kind of church with Genesee Cream Ale on tap.”
The Jaws Connection
Did Mundus inspire the character of Quint in Jaws? Robert Shaw played Quint with scene-stealing intensity in the 1975 film. The evidence is circumstantial but compelling.
Peter Benchley wrote the novel. He fished with Mundus out of Montauk in the years before publication. The fictional community of Amity sits between Bridgehampton and East Hampton. That places it squarely in Montauk’s orbit. Benchley always denied the connection for what associates suggested were legal reasons.
Mundus himself was characteristically direct. “He is Quint,” said one Montauk businessman after Mundus’s death. “If you read the book, he was everything Frank was. Benchley spent weeks fishing with him. Give me a break.”
Mundus died in 2008. His shark still grins at Salivar’s. It remains a reminder of when Montauk’s harbor belonged to men who went out looking for monsters.
The Devlin Family Takes the Helm
The Clam & Chowder House existed long before it moved into the Salivar’s building. Eileen Devlin started the operation with a business partner around 1983. Her husband Rob took over running it from cramped quarters at Westlake Marina starting in 1998. For years, it was a 42-seat operation. Rob Devlin, a commercial fisherman himself, would fillet the day’s catch in full view of customers.
A New Chapter Begins
In 2011, Brian Obergfell, a Wall Street attorney, and his wife Jo-Ann purchased the Salivar’s property for $3.3 million. The Devlins, longtime friends, saw an opportunity to expand while preserving what made both establishments special.
Construction began in 2013. Rob Devlin lit up like the neon sign he was inheriting when discussing the bigger kitchen. “A lot more stoves, fryers. Everything here. Open concept. You can actually see. You’re not boxed in,” he told a reporter at the time.
The Clam & Chowder House at Salivar’s Dock opened in April 2014. Seating jumped from 42 to approximately 135. The expansion added a rooftop deck with panoramic views of the harbor. Across the way sits the U.S. Coast Guard Station. They added a 20-foot bar and plans for a boccie court out front. Rob Devlin kept his fish-cutting station. Regulars could still pose for photos with the swordfish, yellowfin, and albacore tuna.
A Family Legacy Continues
Rob Devlin passed away from liver cancer in December 2020 at the age of 54. He had moved to Montauk at 17 after family fishing trips convinced him this was where he belonged. He married Eileen in 1992 and operated a commercial fishing boat. His two daughters, Hali and Shana, continue the family business today. His obituary noted simply that he “enjoyed spending time on the water.” At a place like Salivar’s, that’s about the highest compliment you can pay.
The View, The Boats, The Real Thing
Salivar’s sits directly on Montauk Harbor. This remains New York State’s largest commercial fishing port. From the rooftop deck, you watch commercial boats unload their catches at adjacent docks. Charter vessels idle past on their way to open water. The Coast Guard station across the harbor provides a reminder. This is still a working waterfront, not a sanitized marina experience designed for tourists.
Carl Fisher’s Vision
Montauk Harbor itself is the creation of Carl Fisher. The same developer built Miami Beach. In 1927, Fisher blasted a gap in the shoreline. He connected what had been Long Island’s largest freshwater lake to Block Island Sound and the Atlantic Ocean.
Fisher intended to create the “Miami Beach of the North.” He built the Montauk Yacht Club, Montauk Manor, and other grand projects. Then the 1929 crash ended his ambitions. The Navy took over the harbor during World War II. Afterward, it evolved into the commercial and sport fishing hub it remains today.
Character Preserved
For sixty years, Debbie Tuma’s father sat on the same stool at Salivar’s every morning at 5 a.m. He sat next to his fellow charter boat captains before going fishing. When the property sold in 2011, Tuma feared they would lose the place forever.
After the renovation, she wrote approvingly. It was “a bit more modern,” but the character remained. The photos that once covered the walls are now archived online. Beautiful wood replaced the funky decay. Crucially, both the neon sign and the shark head stayed put.
What’s On the Plate
The Clam & Chowder House sources its seafood from nine commercial fishing vessels. These boats supply the restaurant directly. You are eating what came in that morning. The menu shifts with the catch and the season.
The Chowder
The chowder is the obvious starting point. New England style, made from scratch. Reviewers describe a perfectly balanced texture that has them “hook, line, and sinker from the first spoonful.” The Manhattan chowder also earns praise. Though opinions vary, as they always do with chowder.
Beyond the Namesake Dish
The menu spans the expected and the unexpected. Fish parmigiana has developed a following. This comfort food crossover layers local fish with marinara sauce and melted cheese. Tilefish regularly appears in reviews as a standout. Seasonal preparations showcase whatever the boats brought in.
Frogmore stew represents an unexpected Southern influence. This Low Country boil features shrimp, corn, potatoes, and sausage. It works surprisingly well in this setting.
From Sushi to Dessert
Sushi arrived with the expansion. The rooftop deck now features a full sushi bar operation. The combination seems incongruous at first. Then you remember that fresh fish is fresh fish. The boats unloading yellowfin tuna at the dock next door don’t care. Their catch can end up grilled or sliced raw with wasabi.
The lobster roll exists, as it must at any self-respecting waterfront establishment in the Hamptons. Reviews suggest it’s not the primary reason to visit. The fried calamari, on the other hand, earns consistent praise for perfect execution. Fish and chips comes in portions sized for commercial fishermen, not Pilates instructors.
For dessert, the banana cream pie has achieved something close to cult status. One visitor called it “their specialty.” Multiple reviews single it out as a must-order.
Two Institutions Become One
The 2014 merger of the Clam & Chowder House with Salivar’s represented something rare in the modern Hamptons. Here was a renovation that honored rather than erased history. When the Obergfells purchased the property, locals genuinely feared another landmark would be lost. The relentless pressure of development claims more victims each season.
The Original Salivar’s
The original Salivar’s had been a dockside hangout for fishermen. It gradually evolved into a restaurant while never losing its blue-collar soul. For many years, it was the only place in Montauk where you could get food and drink 24 hours a day.
Walls were covered with decades of accumulated photographs. Fishermen with their catches. Charter captains in their prime. A slow accretion of a community’s visual history. The furniture was worn. One longtime patron described the aesthetic as “funky half-bar, half-diner.”
Preservation Over Reinvention
The Devlins understood that destroying this character would be pointless. What made Salivar’s valuable wasn’t the real estate alone. It was the accumulated authenticity that no amount of money could recreate.
So they kept the iconic red neon sign. Zoning codes had grandfathered it in. Such a thing would never be permitted today. They kept the shark head and the other fish mounts. They upgraded the kitchen to accommodate expanded seating. Customers can still watch the fish being prepped.
The photographs that once covered every wall have been digitized and archived online. Some purists might lament the compromise. But it allowed the space to breathe while preserving the historical record. Beautiful wood replaced some of the more deteriorated surfaces. As one observer noted, it was “a bit more modern, but the character is still there.”
The Working Waterfront
To appreciate Salivar’s fully, you need to understand what West Lake Drive represents. This is not a decorative marina designed for wealthy boat owners seeking picturesque views. It remains a working commercial fishing port. It’s the largest in New York State and one of the most significant on the Northeast coast.
Commerce Meets Cuisine
Commercial fishing boats unload their catches at docks mere feet from where Salivar’s customers enjoy tilefish and lobster rolls. The Ebb Tide operates out of Salivar’s Dock itself. This 65-foot party fishing vessel takes families out for half-day trips. They seek whatever’s running that day.
Charter boats cruise past on their way to open water. The U.S. Coast Guard maintains a station across the harbor. They respond to maritime emergencies inevitable in a serious fishing community.
What Gentrification Threatens
This working character is what developers and gentrifiers threaten most directly. Gosman’s Dock went on the market for $52.5 million in 2015. Many feared this signaled the beginning of the end for Montauk’s fishing heritage. The hamlet was once “all about surfing, fishing, and dive bars.” It has steadily transformed into something glossier, more expensive, and more generic.
Salivar’s persists as a reminder of what Montauk was. Before the helicopters started landing. Before the beach clubs started requiring memberships. The fish arriving at the restaurant each morning comes from boats working these waters for generations. That continuity matters.
The Scene
Salivar’s operates seasonally, typically from late spring through early fall. Winter pop-up events like Tuesday night bingo maintain some connection to year-round locals. During summer, live music plays every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evening from 6 to 9 p.m. The rooftop deck becomes prime real estate. It offers harbor views at sunset while bands work through their sets.
A Global Crew Serves a Mixed Crowd
The staff comes from everywhere. Job postings mention employees returning from Ireland, Mexico, Puerto Rico. Housing is available for seasonal workers. This international crew serves a mixed crowd. Commercial fishermen finishing their shifts. Summer visitors discovering the place for the first time. Hamptons regulars who have been coming for decades.
“We come here every year,” one reviewer wrote. “You cannot beat the view, looking at the boats and the water. It’s quintessential Montauk, the way it always was and hopefully always will be.”
That conditional verb carries weight. Gosman’s Dock, the 14-acre restaurant and shopping complex nearby, sold for $52.5 million in 2024. Pressure to transform working waterfronts into luxury experiences grows more intense each season. Salivar’s survives because the Devlin family chose to preserve rather than reinvent. They kept the shark head, the neon sign, the commitment to local fish. They maintained the connection to the harbor that gives the place its reason for being.
The Practical Details
Salivar’s Clam & Chowder House sits at 470 West Lake Drive in Montauk. It’s on the western shore of the harbor near Gosman’s Dock and commercial fishing operations. During the season, the restaurant typically opens for dinner Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Lunch service runs on weekends. The rooftop deck operates Thursday through Sunday.
They accept reservations for groups of twelve or more. Worth knowing if you arrive at 6:30 on a summer Saturday and face a two-hour wait.
The phone number is (631) 668-6252. Check their website at clamandchowderhouse.com for current hours and live music schedules. The seasonal operation means schedules shift.
Make the Most of Your Visit
If the rooftop is full and the wait is long, take a seat at the bar. Order whatever fish came in that day. Watch the boats coming and going in the harbor. Look up at the shark head on the wall. Frank Mundus caught it more than sixty years ago. He wore an Australian slouch hat. He went looking for monsters and found them.
This is the real Montauk, or what’s left of it. The boats still go out. The fish still come in. The shark still grins.
The Legacy of Frank Mundus
Frank Mundus died in Hawaii in 2008. He had spent his later years as an unlikely shark conservationist. Decades of hunting them led to a change of heart.
From Hunter to Protector
In 1991, he moved to a small lemon-tree farm on the Big Island, though he returned to Montauk each summer—booking charter trips well into his eighties, campaigning for catch-and-release practices, and publishing a conservation book called ‘White Shark Sam Meets the Monster Man.’ The transformation from hunter to protector was complete.
A Complicated Legacy
But the shark head at Salivar’s preserves the earlier Mundus. This was the Monster Man who went out looking for leviathans. He brought them back for display. It’s a complicated legacy, like much of the region’s fishing history.
Practices that built Montauk’s reputation are now illegal. Harpooning sharks. Using whale carcasses for chum. Modern standards would call them barbaric. Yet the men who engaged in them created something that endures. A fishing culture. A community identity. A sense that this particular stretch of Long Island exists for reasons beyond real estate development.
The Monument Question
John Aceri, another Montauk fisherman who knew Mundus well, remarked after his death: “If they don’t build a monument for him in Montauk, it would be a shame.”
Perhaps the shark head at Salivar’s is that monument. At least one version of it. As long as it hangs on the wall, some thread of connection to the original Montauk remains intact. As long as customers look up and wonder about the story behind those frozen jaws, the memory survives.
The Essentials
Name: Salivar’s Clam & Chowder House (officially The Clam and Chowder House at Salivar’s Dock)
Address: 470 West Lake Drive, Montauk, NY 11954
Phone: (631) 668-6252
Website: clamandchowderhouse.com
Hours: Seasonal operation (typically late spring through early fall). Dinner service Monday, Tuesday, Friday 5-10pm; Saturday and Sunday 12-10pm. Closed Wednesday and Thursday during shoulder seasons; check for current schedule.
Reservations: Accepted for groups of 12 or more. Walk-ins for smaller parties; expect waits during peak summer weekends.
Price Range: Moderate to expensive for Montauk ($$ – $$$)
Cards: Major credit cards accepted
What to Order: New England clam chowder, fish parmigiana, tilefish, fried calamari, frogmore stew, banana cream pie
Don’t Miss: The rooftop deck at sunset, the shark head, watching the boats unload
Good For: Waterfront dining, live music, fresh local seafood, groups
