For decades, Bill Pavlacka has been a quiet constant on the sands of Coronado, a man with buckets, water, and patience, turning beach mornings into moments of wonder for locals and tourists alike. Known simply as “The Sandcastle Man,” Pavlacka’s intricate sculptures have become as much a part of the visual identity of the beach in front of Hotel del Coronado as the red turrets and wraparound porches. That relationship came to an abrupt and controversial end this week.
According to a copy of the letter obtained by SanDiegoVille, Pavlacka was presented with a written notice from hotel management dated February 5, 2026, ordering him to immediately cease operating on hotel property, including the beach area directly in front of the resort. The letter, delivered by hand and signed by the hotel’s Director of Human Resources, states that Pavlacka is “no longer permitted to operate ‘The Sandcastle Man’ or any other business on the premises of the Hotel del Coronado… explicitly including the Hotel’s beach.”
The notice cites alleged violations of hotel policies, including prior warnings issued in October 2025, and references a “new incident” involving alcohol consumption that reportedly resulted in a negative guest experience. No further details are provided in the document.
The action follows the removal of a recent sandcastle that included multiple carved messages and images, among them a heart-shaped panel featuring the quote, “Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please,” attributed to Mark Twain. While the quote has circulated widely online as a Twain aphorism, the hotel’s letter does not cite the quotation as the basis for the trespass notice, instead emphasizing policy violations and guest conduct standards.
The action follows the removal of a recent sandcastle that included multiple carved messages and images, among them a heart-shaped panel featuring the quote, “Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please,” attributed to Mark Twain. While the quote has circulated widely online as a Twain aphorism, the hotel’s letter does not cite the quotation as the basis for the trespass notice, instead emphasizing policy violations and guest conduct standards.
"Evidently his Sandcastle had a Mark Twain quote they found offensive," explained another. "They do own the beach in front of of the hotel. I called the executive offices and left a complaint that if this is true they are stepping on Coronado tradition as he is a loved feature on the beach and many people enjoy his art and contribution. You are either part of the fabric of the community or you aren’t… they need to choose."
Pavlacka, who has been building sandcastles for more than 30 years and professionally for nearly two decades, is widely recognized in Coronado for his detailed castles, memorials, wedding proposals, and pop culture tributes. What began as a pastime with his children evolved into a full-time livelihood following the 2008 recession, when construction work dried up and demand for his beach sculptures surged.
His work has been featured by local television stations, newspapers, and tourism outlets, and he has frequently collaborated with theatrical productions, charities, and community celebrations. His castles have honored Broadway productions like Les Misérables, major film releases such as Moana 2, and countless personal milestones for strangers passing by. For many residents, his presence on the beach has become synonymous with the Hotel Del experience itself.
“I enjoy helping people write their messages,” Pavlacka has said in past interviews. “Sometimes it’s joyful, sometimes it’s not, but it’s always something people really care about.”
The dispute is complicated by the unusual legal and geographic status of the beach in front of Hotel del Coronado. Unlike most California beachfront hotels, the Del maintains ownership and management control over a portion of the dry sand directly in front of its property. This allows the resort to offer exclusive amenities - including reserved lounge chairs, umbrellas, and beachside food and beverage service - particularly for guests staying at the ultra-luxury Beach Village at The Del.
Critics argue that this hybrid arrangement has increasingly been used to exert control over longtime public-facing activities that once defined the area’s character.
At the same time, the area borders city-managed public beaches, and California law generally prohibits private ownership of wet sand and tidelands, guaranteeing public access to the shoreline itself.
Over time, the Del has deeded portions of its original beachfront holdings to the City of Coronado, but it continues to control the primary dry sand area closest to the resort. That distinction, largely invisible to casual beachgoers, has created a long-standing gray zone where public access, private control, and community tradition overlap. For years, Pavlacka’s sandcastles existed within that ambiguity: publicly visible, widely celebrated, and seemingly tolerated, if not quietly embraced, as part of the resort’s beachfront atmosphere.
Over time, the Del has deeded portions of its original beachfront holdings to the City of Coronado, but it continues to control the primary dry sand area closest to the resort. That distinction, largely invisible to casual beachgoers, has created a long-standing gray zone where public access, private control, and community tradition overlap. For years, Pavlacka’s sandcastles existed within that ambiguity: publicly visible, widely celebrated, and seemingly tolerated, if not quietly embraced, as part of the resort’s beachfront atmosphere.
News of Pavlacka’s removal has prompted an outpouring of public frustration, with Coronado residents reportedly flooding hotel phone lines and social media channels demanding clarity and reconsideration. Many view the decision as emblematic of a broader shift toward corporatization and risk aversion at the historic resort, now operated under the Curio Collection by Hilton.
"Bill is a treasure," wrote one commenter. "He has brought joy to so many people. Proposals, anniversaries, birthdays."
SanDiegoVille has reached out to both Hotel del Coronado management and Bill Pavlacka for comment but did not receive a response prior to publication. This article will be updated if statements are provided.
For now, a familiar sight on Coronado Beach - hand-carved castles bearing messages of celebration, remembrance, and joy - has abruptly disappeared, leaving behind a deeper conversation about art, access, and who truly belongs on San Diego’s most famous shoreline.
Whether this marks a temporary enforcement decision or a permanent break from a beloved beachfront presence remains to be seen. What is clear is that a line, long blurred by custom and goodwill, has now been unmistakably drawn.
Originally published on February 5, 2026.
