Beach

Anastasia gives you two completely different waters within walking distance. The Atlantic beach is wide and firm enough to walk for miles, with real surf. Salt Run, the tidal lagoon behind it, is protected, waist-deep in most places and the best beginner paddling in the region - rentals for kayaks, paddleboards and small sailboats operate there in season. The campground is one of the best in the state system, tucked into the maritime hammock. St. Augustine’s old town and its fort are ten minutes away, which makes this an easy base for a few days.

Anne’s Beach is barely a beach in the conventional sense and that is exactly why it works with very small children. The water off Lower Matecumbe is so shallow that you can walk out several hundred feet and still be at knee height, warm as a bath in summer, with a soft bottom. A boardwalk runs behind it through the mangroves to a second stretch of sand. Parking is roadside and limited, there are restrooms but no concessions, and kiteboarders use the far end on windy days. It is free, which makes it the cheapest good hour in the Keys.

Most of the Keys have very little actual beach; Bahia Honda is the exception and it is why the park fills early. Sandspur Beach shelves so gently that children can walk out a long way in warm, clear water, and Calusa Beach on the other side is even calmer. The ruined Flagler railroad bridge arcs overhead, half of it removed, which makes the whole place look like a film set. Snorkelling is decent close in around the rocks though not reef-quality. It is a two-hour drive from Key Largo, so this works best as part of a Keys trip rather than a day out from Miami.

Carolina’s balneario is the practical San Juan beach: broad sand backed by palms and sea grape, with the full public-beach infrastructure of lifeguards, restrooms, showers, picnic shelters and a playground, plus a large paid lot. It sits five minutes from the airport, which makes it the obvious answer to a long layover or a last afternoon before an evening flight. The Atlantic here has more wave action than the reef-protected beaches on the east coast, so supervise smaller children and use the lifeguarded sections. Food kiosks operate at the entrance.

Luquillo is the beach most Puerto Rican families use, and it is set up accordingly: a reef offshore knocks the swell down so the water inside is flat and shallow, there are lifeguards, showers, restrooms and shade under the coconut palms. It also has one of the island’s best casual food scenes immediately behind it - a strip of around sixty kiosks selling alcapurrias, empanadillas, fresh fish and cold drinks, which turns a beach afternoon into a proper meal. The eastern end has an accessible section built for wheelchair beach access. El Yunque is twenty minutes away, so the two pair naturally.

Escambrón is an unlikely thing: a small reef-sheltered beach with real snorkelling inside the city, a few minutes from Old San Juan. The reef breaks the Atlantic swell so the cove stays calm, and there is enough structure underwater - coral heads, some submerged ruins - to hold sergeant majors, parrotfish, wrasse and often a turtle. Being a public balneario it has lifeguards, restrooms, showers and shade, which makes it far more practical with children than the open beaches along Condado. Skip it after heavy rain or on a big north swell, when visibility collapses.

Seven Seas is the public balneario nearest the Fajardo ferry terminal, and it is a genuinely good family beach in its own right rather than just a place to wait for a boat. The bay is protected, so the water is shallow, warm and calm a long way out, and it has the full public-beach kit: lifeguards, restrooms, showers, picnic shelters, kiosks and camping. From the eastern end a short trail leads over the headland to Playa Escondida and Playa Colora, two rougher, emptier coves worth the twenty-minute walk. The Laguna Grande bio bay tours launch nearby.

Bathtub Reef is exactly what the name says. A sabellariid worm reef runs parallel to the shore a short way out, and at low tide it breaks the surface and encloses a shallow lagoon where the water is flat, warm and clear. Children can stand up throughout while snorkelling over sergeant majors, small parrotfish and the occasional ray. It is genuinely the best introduction to snorkelling for a nervous or young child anywhere on this coast, because there is no depth and no current inside the reef. Timing is everything - come within two hours of low tide, and skip it entirely when the surf is up. The lot is small and free, and fills fast.

Big Talbot has the strangest beach in Florida. The island is eroding, and as the bluff retreats it drops entire live oaks and cedars onto the sand below, where salt and sun bleach them white. The result is a shoreline of enormous pale driftwood skeletons, some still rooted, arranged along the tideline - it looks like nowhere else in the state and photographs extraordinarily well. Getting down means a short trail from the roadside parking and a scramble at the end. This is a walking and looking beach, not a swimming one: the water has current and there are no lifeguards.

This is the largest Anastasia limestone outcrop on the Atlantic coast, and when a high tide coincides with an onshore swell the sea funnels through blowholes in the rock and erupts in plumes that can reach fifty feet. It is genuinely spectacular and genuinely conditional - on a calm day at low tide you get an interesting rocky beach and nothing more. Check the tide chart and the swell before you go. The Nature Conservancy runs the preserve and there is a small visitor centre. Climbing on the rocks is dangerous when the surf is running, which is exactly when it is worth watching.

Guánica is the largest and best preserved subtropical dry forest anywhere, and it is a startling contrast to El Yunque three hours east: cactus, thorn scrub, bare limestone and relentless sun instead of rain and tree ferns. It holds bird species found nowhere else on the island. Several trails run from the road down to the coast, ending at small empty beaches; the Ballena trail is a straightforward option with children. There is no water and almost no shade on the trails, which is the thing to plan around - start early and carry more water than seems necessary.

Sanibel runs east-west rather than north-south, which acts as a shelf catching shells that drift down the Gulf, and it is why people come here with bags and bend over in the surf line doing the Sanibel Stoop. Bowman’s is the quietest of the island’s public beaches, and the reason is the walk: from the car park it is a marked trail over a footbridge and through the dunes, about ten minutes, which sounds trivial and is not when you are carrying a cool box and a toddler. Parking is charged by the hour. Low tide after a winter storm is the jackpot. Live shells may not be collected. Facilities are basic - showers, a pavilion, grills, a playground and portable toilets while the permanent restrooms are rebuilt - and recovery from Hurricane Ian is still going on around the island.

Brewers Bay is where St. Thomas residents and university students go, and it is free with no cruise excursion traffic at all. The water is shallow, calm and clean, with sea grape trees giving real shade along the back - a rare and valuable thing on a Caribbean beach. There is seagrass offshore that sometimes brings turtles in. Food vans park on the road behind selling pates and local plates. The unusual feature is the airport: the runway ends just along the shore, so aircraft come in low directly over the water, which most children find far more interesting than the swimming.

Caladesi can only be reached by boat, and that single fact keeps it emptier than any comparable beach on this coast. The ferry runs from Honeymoon Island every hour and gives you a four-hour window on the island, which is enough for a long swim and a walk up the beach away from the crowd near the dock. The Gulf water is warm and shallow with fine white sand. Behind the beach a marked kayak trail runs through mangroves in the bay. There is a snack bar and restrooms near the marina and nothing at all beyond that.

Canaveral is the longest stretch of undeveloped coast left in Florida, protected because it borders the Kennedy Space Center. Standing on the sand with nothing built in either direction is a rare thing on the Atlantic side of this state. Loggerhead, green and leatherback turtles all nest here, and the park runs guided night walks in June and July that are worth planning a trip around. Mosquito Lagoon behind the dunes is famous for paddling and fishing. Facilities are minimal, the beach can close entirely for launches, and the surf is real Atlantic surf rather than Gulf calm.

Cane Bay is famous among divers for the wall - a reef edge a short swim from the beach where the seabed simply stops and falls away into deep blue water. Snorkellers can reach the top of it and look over, which is a genuinely startling thing to float above and a strong experience for a confident older child. Closer in there is shallow reef with normal fish life and easy sand entry. Dive shops sit directly across the road for gear. The beach is narrow with limited shade and can get surge on a north swell, when it becomes a poor choice for children.

Cinnamon Bay is a long stretch of sand inside the national park with more room to spread out than Trunk or Maho, and enough wave action to be fun for children without being rough. A small cay sits offshore within easy snorkelling range for stronger swimmers. Behind the beach a short self-guided trail loops through the ruins of a Danish sugar plantation, with the mill and estate house walls standing in the bush - a genuinely interesting half hour that puts the island’s colonial history somewhere children will actually encounter it. Watersports rentals and a campground operate on site.

Coki is a small beach with an outsized reputation underwater. Rocky points at both ends hold coral and the fish life is dense and close in - blue tang, sergeant majors, parrotfish, squirrelfish - starting only a few metres from the sand in water shallow enough for a child to stand. That combination of easy access and real reef is uncommon. It is compact and gets crowded on cruise days, and there is persistent, insistent vending on the beach that some visitors find wearing. Feeding fish is discouraged. Coral World Ocean Park is immediately next door.

Crash Boat takes its name from the rescue boats once stationed here for the airbase. The pier has largely collapsed, and the pilings left standing under the water have grown coral and sponge and now hold dense fish life - sergeant majors, snapper, wrasse - in water shallow enough to free-dive. That structure is why it snorkels better than the plain sand beaches nearby. The beach itself is colourful with fishing boats and busy with local families at weekends, and there are food kiosks. Conditions matter: winter north swells make the west coast rough and murky.

Curry Hammock has the calmest paddling water in the Keys - a shallow protected bay where the bottom is visible the whole way and there is nowhere for a novice to get into trouble. Boats are available at the launch, but not from the park - a third-party self-serve kiosk runs on a QR code and a smartphone, so have signal and a card. The beach is small and rarely crowded, which is the trade for it being less spectacular than Bahia Honda. In autumn the park hosts a raptor migration count, and on a good October day thousands of hawks and falcons funnel down the Keys directly overhead. The campground is one of the harder Florida reservations to get.