Being There: Beaches 
Shore ’Nuff
With more than 350 miles of coastline in Texas, choosing the perfect getaway can make you want to bury your head in the sand. Where do you go for a family vacation? (Or to avoid kids at all costs?) Who can teach you to surf? (Or to build a massive sand castle?) Never fear. I’ve found the twenty best beaches in the state, from sophisticated resorts to secluded islands. All you need is your bathing suit—and that “novel” you’ve been dying to read.
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14. Hook the Big One
Riviera Beach Thank the worms for the trophy trout you can snag in Baffin Bay. Not the ones on the end of your hook (you ought to be using a slow-sinking Corky with a chartreuse sparkle body anyway, judging from the claims of the record holders), but ancient serpulid worms, which began constructing the bay’s famous rock reefs out of calcareous tubes about three thousand years ago, finally wrapping up the project about three centuries ago. These submerged rocks, found nowhere else on the Texas coast, make ideal hideouts for trout and other fish. Although you can freely access the bay from the county parks and pier in the community of Riviera Beach, the poshest—and possibly safest—spot to wade in is at Baffin on the Rocks, where four crisply kept cabins sit on a manicured lawn mere steps from the water’s edge. But even if you fail to reel in one for the frying pan, you can always cheat and eat at nearby Baffin Bay Cafe, where the catch of the day comes straight out of its namesake waters. Plus, you can pick up obscure fishing tips here. My waiter insisted that the so-fresh-it-was-still-flopping black drum I ate one night had been caught using a piece of wooden dowel as bait. Riviera Beach: From Riviera, go 10 miles east on FM 771. Baffin on the Rocks: From Riviera Beach, go half a mile north (361-592-3474 or baffinontherocks.com); two-bedroom cabin with kitchen starts at $185. Baffin Bay Cafe: at the end of FM 771 (361-297-5354). Texas saltwater fishing license required (800-895-4248 or tpwd.state.tx.us/publications/annual/fish/licenses/).
15. Get Off the Road
Padre Island National Seashore The massive gas drilling rig within sight of the entrance station at Padre Island National Seashore may cause you to question the park’s claim as the longest stretch of primitive, undeveloped beach in the nation. And the motor homes parked head to toe like obedient pachyderms along the first five miles of oceanfront will probably do little to quell your doubts. But I’ll bet by the time you reach Big Shell Beach, twenty miles into four-wheel-drive territory, you’ll be a believer, converted by the shifting dunes on your right, the roaring sea on your left, and forty miles of the same unfolding before you. When my husband and I attempted this trek, we pitched our tent down from Big Shell, near a bend named Devil’s Elbow, where many a ship wrecked as a result of converging currents and nefarious practices by scavenging pirates. But I’ve got another name for it: the Mind-warping Wind Elbow. We hightailed it out of there after one night spent in the constant blow. That’s great for windsurfers (no wonder the park’s Bird Island Basin is world renowned for the sport). Not so great if you’re trying to get a forkful of scrambled eggs into your mouth. But if driving the length of the park is your sole mission, you can motor the entire sixty miles to the Port Mansfield Channel and back again in eight hours. From Corpus Christi, go east on Texas Highway 358 to Park Road 22, turn right, and continue south for 10 miles to park entrance (361-949-8068 or nps.gov/pais/; for driving conditions, 361-949-8175); $10 entrance fee per vehicle is valid for seven days.
16. Live It Up Stewart Beach
Galveston You’re not high maintenance. You just have a keenly developed appreciation for beach enhancements, like rental umbrellas and chairs, an inflatable waterslide, a miniature bungee-jumping rig, and regular volleyball tournaments. And did I mention shopping? At Ocean Oso’s, where you can also grab a grilled chicken sandwich or a basket of fried shrimp, you don’t even have to brush the sand from your feet to snag bathing suits, sun hats, and beach toys. “Kids’ buckets and shovels,” says Brian Ethridge, the vice president of operations. “We sell hundreds, thousands, over the summer.” If you consider safety a worthy amenity as well, you’ll thrill to the lifeguards and security staff watching over this beach. Sixth and Seawall Blvd. (409-765-5023 or galveston.com/stewartbeach). Open Mon–Fri 8–6, Sat & Sun 8–7; parking $8 per day ($16 for oversized vehicles).
17. Shell, Shell, Shell
San Jose Island Texas shell seekers are such a tight-lipped bunch that a professional oyster shucker couldn’t pry the locations of their prime hunting grounds out of them. They will drop hints about when you should hunt for shells: during low tide, especially when you can reach offshore sandbars. But as to where to hunt? They can be as evasive as a White House press secretary. So here’s the inside dope: Head to San Jose Island. Although privately owned, its 21 miles of Gulf Coast beaches are open to the public yet closed to vehicles. All this makes for primo shelling that’s only a ferry ride away from Port Aransas. Of course, the perfect excursion takes a bit of planning. First, rent a fat-tired beach bike at Nautical Wheelers, ride over to Cotter Street Coffee House to load up on atypical beach snacks like quiche florentine and iced French vanilla lattes (there are no amenities on San Jose, not even a Starbucks), then dash over to Fisherman’s Wharf and roll aboard the Jetty Boat, which departs ten times a day for the eight-minute jaunt to San Jose. When you disembark, pedal like Lance to leave any foot traffic in your dust. Then start searching for lightning whelks, olive shells, and wentletraps. And so what if you don’t discover museum- worthy specimens? Not to get too chicken-soupy on you, but isn’t the design and execution of each and every shell, even the common cockle, a marvel? (Required legal disclaimer: You must have a license to collect live mollusks, which you don’t want anyway, for both ecological and olfactory reasons.) Cotter Street Coffee House (162 W. Cotter, 361-244-5014 or cotterstreetcoffee.com). Fisherman’s Wharf (900 Tarpon, 800-605-5448 or wharfcat.com). Round-trip ferry ride $10 adults, $5 children under 12. Nautical Wheelers (428 S. Alister, 361-749-3003 or nauticalwheelers.net); bikes start at $10 for four hours.
18. Promenade With Your Partner
Palacios Seawall As you stroll along this one-and-a-half-mile sidewalk hugging the edge of a stubby peninsula that just barely manages to jut into Tres Palacios Bay, you might be tempted to pin down the source of its gentle appeal. Maybe it’s the hundreds of shrimp boats harbored at one end. Maybe it’s the historic buildings scattered along its path, from pristine bungalows ringed with flowering oleander to the clapboard Luther Hotel, moved in three pieces to this spot in 1905 and still kicking. It could be the open-air pavilion perched to one side of the pier, flags flapping in the wind, a bare-bones reminder of earlier, more-elaborate pavilions—one with a second-story cafe, another that showcased the likes of Artie Shaw and Tex Beneke, and all eventually clobbered by hurricanes. Maybe it’s the patches of carpetlike lawn dotted with picnic tables and swing sets and the peekaboo beaches tucked between seawall and sea. Or it could be the absence of high-rise time-shares or petroleum plants along the entire sweep of the horizon. But does it really matter? If it does, perhaps you need to walk the walk again—only slower this time. From Corpus Christi, head 100 miles northeast on Texas Highway 35 (palacioschamber.com/tourist.htm).
19. Act Like a Pirate
Port Mansfield Channel Since the Spanish fleet first began to prowl the Gulf in the 1500’s, hundreds of ships have sunk along the Texas coast, and if rumors are to be believed, all of them were filled to the scuppers with jewels, silver, and gold. The most legendary of these have to be the three treasure ships en route to Spain and loaded with Aztec swag that went aground at Padre Island in 1554. (You don’t want to know what happened to the passengers and crew.) Steve Hathcock, co-owner of Padre Island Traders and the Beachcomber’s Museum of Local and Natural History, relates a tale of how, during construction of the Port Mansfield Channel in the fifties, dredgers sliced right through one of those ships, the Santa Maria de Yicar, spraying the banks with chunks of ship and silver coins. Tales of buried treasure along the channel—known by locals and assorted freebooters as the Mansfield Cut—are likewise sensational. Pirate Jean Lafitte’s plundered fortune is said to be stashed somewhere under the dunes on Padre, beneath a marker reading “Dig deeper!” And scuttlebutt has it that when the Singer family, who shipwrecked on Padre Island in 1847 and then decided to settle there, fled during the Civil War, they stuffed $62,000 in silver coins and an emerald necklace in a stone jar and buried it, never to be found. But lest you figure on getting rich, matey, remember: Whatever pre-1900 booty you find should be left where it lies and then reported to the Texas Historical Commission. “Argh,” you say? Yes, thanks to the 1969 passage of the Texas Antiquities Code, one of the toughest in the country, any historic artifact found on public property belongs to the state. Violators face up to a $1,000 fine, thirty days in jail, and keelhauling. And although Steve Hoyt, the state marine archeologist, isn’t aware of anyone who has been prosecuted for picking up coins or other artifacts on the beach, he warns, “We are always on the alert for such activity.” Shiver me timbers. Port Mansfield Channel: From Beach Access Road 6, go 30 miles north (accessible only with a four-wheel-drive vehicle or square-rigger). Beachcomber’s Museum of Local and Natural History (104 West Pompano, 956-761-5231 or islandtraders.biz); free admission.
20. Nosh in Flip-flops
South Padre Island The easy access to South Padre via the Queen Isabella Causeway can muddle the destination’s island status a bit, but once you’re firmly planted on the beach, the isle aura reasserts itself. The whitest sand and the bluest water in the state certainly contribute to the Caribbean allure, but I think it’s a trio of beachside eateries that caps off the carefree picture. Make a day of munching and sipping between Beach Access 7 and 19, beginning with a breakfast of, say, eggs Benedict and a mimosa at newcomer Café on the Beach, the most upscale of the lot (shoes required, but they have flip-flops you can borrow). In the afternoon, stroll north to Wanna Wanna Beach Bar and Grill, pausing to play in the surf long enough to work up an appetite for one of its famed fried-shrimp baskets and a can o’ suds. Here, imbibing patrons and live bongo jazz spill out of the thatch-roofed bar right onto the sand. Wind up the day by sauntering back south to Boomerang Billy’s. Spike a few on the volleyball court, then quench your thirst with a pre-burger aperitif on the sunny deck, where the who-cares decor runs to prayer flags promoting Captain Morgan rum. Café on the Beach (3616 Gulf Blvd., Beach Access Road 11; 956-761-1316 or palmsresortcafe.com). Wanna Wanna Beach Bar and Grill (5100 Gulf, Beach Access Road 19; 956-761-7677. Boomerang Billy’s (2612 Gulf, Beach Access Road 7; 956-761-2420).
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