From small-town success to fifth best in the nation,
how one little waterpark on Long Island evolved
without losing its identity.

I was 12 years old when Splish Splash first opened in 1991, and it was the talk of
Southold Middle School. When you grow up amid scenic beaches, vineyards, and
farm fields—three hours east of a major city—you crave a little excitement that
doesn’t have anything to do with tractors or boats. So when Splish Splash opened
in Riverhead, N.Y., just a half-hour drive west from my Long Island hometown,
my friends and I were first in line. We couldn’t wait to experience this promised
sland of excitement and unexpected thrills, and Splish Splash didn’t let us down.

Splish Splash sprouted in an odd location for a waterpark, though us local kids certainly didn’t complain. The eastern end of Long Island has long been a summer destination spot for city dwellers, but not because of its action-packed or even cultural attractions. Travel one of the three routes heading east after the Long Island Expressway ends, and you’ll pass through quaint farming and fishing towns, where local produce and roasted-corn stands line the roads, and hand-painted signs invite you to pick your own strawberries.

People come for the east end’s pristine beaches, where there aren’t any garrulous boardwalks selling taffy and souvenirs. Instead, dune grass grows for miles, and lighthouses adorn the shores. They come to sail on the water that surrounds the area—the Atlantic, Peconic Bay, and Long Island Sound—and to stop at the vineyards along the north and south shores to taste wine as robust as the Napa Valley. Frankly, in the midst of all the natural beauty and quaint attractions, a waterpark seemed distinctly out of place. But Splish Splash’s owners hoped they would find their niche, and 12 years later there can be little doubt.

Watered-Down Success
We were there when it opened with just five rides, but to us country bumpkins, that was an impressive haul. We raced to the top of the stairs that led to Max Trax, two water slides that shoot 50 feet to the ground. (Then I raced back down those stairs after chickening out when I got to the top.) Splash Landing was my favorite—sitting in a one- or two-person tube, you wind and twist down an open slide, twirling backward and forward until you splash into a large pool. The other three rides were equally fun—nothing too innovative, but certainly enough to keep us smiling. But even we could recognize that the park we’d so eagerly awaited would eventually become routine. And for visitors who were used to the kinds of thrills major chains offered, the five-slide park must have looked like a thin excuse for a waterpark.

In fact, Splish Splash had all the ingredients to make it a ma and pa operation that would quietly entertain local kids. It was family-owned and operated; its president, Chip Cleary, designed the layout of the park and chose the rides himself. And its footprint was small—a mere 32 acres, which included the parking lot. When Cleary, a veteran in the amusement park industry, decided to build a waterpark in Riverhead, his friends told him he was crazy for investing in a facility on the east end of Long Island. “Everyone said I was out of my mind,” says Cleary, who worked for 13 years as the director of operations at Adventureland, an amusement park in Farmingdale, N.Y., about 20 miles east of New York City. “They said I was going too far out on Long Island—that we’d never be really successful or draw big crowds.” But Cleary ignored his friends and picked a wooded plot of land in Riverhead because it was distinctive. “I didn’t want my park to be your typical farm field waterpark,” he says. “I wanted a hilly site with lots of trees—a forest to turn into a beautiful waterpark.”

And so he did. Along with a team of architects and engineers, Cleary designed Splish Splash so that winding, rolling paths lead to each attraction, making the atmosphere feel more like summer camp than a waterpark. Strategically placed trees provide plenty of shade on a hot day; and all around are sunny areas with lounge chairs, where parents can relax while the kids go on the rides. Whether it was because of the idyllic setting, the attractions, or a combination of both, Cleary managed to prove his pals wrong. Despite its rural location, Splish Splash lured 175,000 people in its first 90-day season, which meant one thing: It was time to grow. Cleary bought more land as it became available and built a new attraction each year, expanding the park during every fall, winter, and spring so it would always be ready for summer crowds. He also made other improvements—more parking lots, ticket windows, and restaurants—to keep park visitors happy and coming back.

In 13 years, Splish Splash has tripled in size, from 32 acres to 96, and in capacity from 3,600 to 10,000. In 2001, The Travel Channel voted Splish Splash the fifth-best waterpark in the country, and this season, Cleary expects it’ll entertain a whopping 500,000 guests. “I think it comes back to something my father told me when I was a little kid,” Cleary says. “‘If you think small, you’ll be small; if you think big, you’ll be big.’ From the beginning, we’ve treated this park like it was huge—even when it wasn’t—and because of that, it seems to have just grown on its own.”

A New Splash
When I returned to Splish Splash this summer, 12 years after my last trip, I expected to find a park that was completely different than what I’d first seen and loved. As Splish Splash grew throughout the years, so has that part of Long Island. Just down the road from the park is now the largest outlet shopping mall on the East Coast. Farm stands in Riverhead that once sold fresh-picked broccoli and cauliflower have been replaced by a Home Depot, a Target, and other huge chain stores. In 1999, Cleary sold Splish Splash to Palace Entertainment, a FEC owner and operator that has bought numerous waterparks in recent years and plans to acquire more, so I wondered if the “corporately owned/family-run” business would have lost some of the quaint, nostalgic feeling I loved as a kid.

But as their numbers grew, the park’s need for expanded facilities and services increased. This year, along with new attractions, the park built a larger parking lot, a restaurant, and an improved entryway. When I passed through the brick front gates, what I found was very familiar, just on a much grander scale. Each new attraction added to the park since it first opened had the same look and feel as the original five-ride Splish Splash. Trees still line all of the walkways, pop music plays in the background to keep riders moving and smiling, and staff members—all 800 of them—are still as friendly as I remember. When I told Cleary I felt like I was at the same park I first came to when I was 12, he smiled. “I think when all parks are built, they have an original concept—a vision behind them,” he says. “And even though a park should change and evolve with the times, it’s important that it never lose that vision.”

I hit the newest attractions first, so I walked past Splash Landing, my old favorite, and up the hill to Hollywood Stunt Rider. Voted best new water ride in the waterpark industry in 2002 by USA Today, Hollywood Stunt Rider is more than just a water ride; it’s an experience. Instead of being bored in the hot sun, the ride’s queue offers patrons the chance to audition for a movie. The eccentric director—a mechanical, funny-looking robot in the window of a big movie house—warned about the mist, fog, thunder, lightning, and rain we’d endure during our acting debuts. We were then inundated with flashing lights, thunderous sounds, and sprays of water, which made the little ones squeal with delight and sigh thankfully for the cool blast of relief from the heat. When the five-minute show was over, we walked quickly to the stairs that led us up to a five-person raft ride, eager to plunge into the darkness of an enclosed slide. A sudden drop toward the end sent us shooting out of the slide at alarming speeds. The only complaint I had when we reached the bottom was that the ride was too short.

At the heart of the park are two of Splish Splash’s original attractions. The Giant Twister is made up of three body slides that spit you out into a crystal blue pool. Winding around the base of those slides is the Lazy River, where kids who are more scared of speed than wowed by it can mosey along in a one- or two-person inner tube, taking in the sights while getting soaked by an occasional shooting fountain or waterfall.

After checking out a few more attractions, I walked over to the boardwalk to relax and re-fuel. The restaurants along this strip offer decent summertime fare, and it’s a great spot to rest for a while in a sandy, beach-like area. For those who’d rather not take a break for lunch, hot dog stands and ice cream kiosks scattered around the park provide plenty of opportunities to eat and ride.

There are two shows at Splish Splash that are great distractions for the youngest set. Weldon Middlebrooks’ “Great American Bird Show” is where the now-famous basketball-playing parrots that debuted on the David Letterman Show strut their stuff. No matter how much your kids love the Kiddie Slide, Elephant Pool, or Pirate’s Cove—three of the park’s attractions specifically designed for children—odds are they’ll go home talking about these birds and their trainer. “Wow! I didn’t know birds could actually roller-skate!” one little boy said to his mom, wide-eyed and incredulous. New for this season is “Hatfield and McCoy’s High Dive Show,” a funny story about two families feuding over a pretty girl. I found myself laughing at their cheesy hillbilly jokes, but I was genuinely impressed by the acrobatic dives from the 80-foot-high platform.

I think it was the tense anticipation I felt watching the divers plunge into that small, deep pool of water that made me feel like I was ready for an 80-foot free fall of my own. So after the high dive show, I wandered toward Cliff Diver, the park’s largest water slide. I never actually made it down the slide. (Yes, just like when I was 12 standing in front of the Max Trax slide, I took the stairs back down to the ground.) But I was glad I’d climbed the 80 feet to the top, because the view was spectacular. Endless farm fields, vineyards, and the Long Island Sound sparkled in the distance. And directly below me, a big, beautiful waterpark thrilled another generation of kids.