Hidden Beach Paradises: Discovering Christiansted's Secret Shorelines

Christiansted sits on the northeastern shore of St. Croix, with its distinctive yellow Danish colonial buildings serving as your compass rose for exploration. While the town itself offers waterfront charm, the real magic happens when you venture beyond the harbor area.

My first afternoon, I grabbed my waterproof backpack and set out to get the lay of the land. Unlike the high-rise hotel corridors of other Caribbean destinations, Christiansted maintains a refreshingly low-key profile. The beaches here aren't announced with massive signage or crowded parking lots—they're tucked between residential neighborhoods, hidden at the end of unmarked dirt roads, or accessible only by knowing which seemingly private path actually leads to public shoreline.

The island's geography creates a perfect setup for beach hunters: the northern shore offers calmer waters protected from Atlantic swells, while the eastern beaches catch more dramatic waves. For orientation, think of Christiansted as home plate, with beaches radiating outward like base paths toward secluded outfield treasures.

Renting a car is non-negotiable if you're serious about beach exploration here. The local bus system (called 'publicos') can get you to major spots, but the hidden gems require your own wheels. I opted for a compact SUV, which handled the occasional unpaved access roads without issue.

If beaches were baseball players, Shoys Beach would be that underrated utility player that true fans appreciate but never makes the all-star team. And that's exactly why it's magical.

Located about 10 minutes east of downtown Christiansted, finding Shoys requires a bit of detective work. The entrance sits unmarked between private properties in the Shoys Estate area. I nearly drove past it twice before spotting the narrow access path. A local couple walking their dog gave me a knowing nod as I pulled over—I'd found the right spot.

The payoff for this scavenger hunt? A pristine stretch of white sand beach with gentle waves, minimal crowds (I counted just seven other people on a Saturday), and water so clear I could spot tiny fish darting around my ankles without even putting on a mask.

What makes Shoys special is its protective coral reef about 50 yards offshore that creates a natural swimming pool effect. The water stays calm enough for beginner swimmers while offering enough marine life to keep snorkeling interesting. I spent hours exploring with my full-face snorkel mask, which lets me breathe naturally while keeping my hands free for underwater photography.

The beach has no facilities whatsoever—no restrooms, no food vendors, no rental chairs—and that's precisely why locals cherish it. Pack everything you need, including shade (I brought a lightweight beach umbrella), and prepare to disconnect completely. Cell service is spotty at best, making this a perfect digital detox spot.

On my second day, I decided to swing for the fences with an adventure to the eastern tip of St. Croix. Jack's Bay and Isaac's Bay sit side by side on a protected peninsula, accessible only by a 15-20 minute hike. This extra effort creates a natural filter that keeps crowds away—exactly what I look for in a beach experience.

The trailhead begins near Point Udall (the easternmost point of the United States and its territories), where I parked my rental car in a small dirt lot. The path winds through dry tropical forest before opening to reveal Jack's Bay—a dramatic crescent of sand with waves that can range from gentle to powerful depending on Atlantic conditions.

I'd read mixed reports about the hike difficulty, but found it manageable with proper shoes and water. The trail isn't formally maintained but is well-trodden enough to follow easily. My hiking sandals proved perfect for transitioning between trail and beach without having to change footwear.

What makes this duo special is how different they feel despite being neighbors. Jack's Bay tends to have stronger currents and more dramatic waves—a hit with more experienced swimmers and the occasional surfer. A short walk over the dividing headland brings you to Isaac's Bay, which offers calmer waters and better snorkeling conditions.

I spent a full day alternating between the two beaches, watching pelicans dive-bomb for fish and spotting a sea turtle gliding effortlessly through the clear water. The beaches are part of a nature conservancy, meaning they remain gloriously undeveloped—no facilities, no vendors, just pure Caribbean nature at its finest.

Be warned: these beaches have no shade whatsoever, and the hike back can feel much longer under the afternoon sun. I met a local family who brings a lightweight pop-up tent for shade—genius move that I'll copy next time.

Not every hidden gem requires an expedition. Sometimes the best secrets are hiding in plain sight, which perfectly describes Protestant Cay—a tiny island sitting just 200 yards offshore from downtown Christiansted harbor.

While technically visible from the main promenade, Protestant Cay remains surprisingly under-visited by day-trippers. The small Hotel on the Cay occupies part of the island, but the beach is public and accessible via a quick $5 round-trip water taxi from the Christiansted boardwalk.

I headed over on my third morning, catching the first water taxi at 9am. The captain, a St. Croix native named Marcus, pointed out a massive tarpon swimming beneath the dock while we waited—just one example of the abundant marine life in these protected waters.

The beach itself wraps around the small island, offering different experiences depending which side you choose. The western shore faces Christiansted and provides calm, shallow swimming perfect for families. The northern edge catches more breeze and attracts kitesurfers on windy days. I settled on the eastern side, where a small reef system offers decent snorkeling without having to venture far from shore.

Unlike the other beaches in my lineup, Protestant Cay offers amenities—restrooms, a beach bar serving killer rum punches, and chair rentals. This makes it perfect for a more relaxed day when you don't want to pack a full expedition kit. I treated myself to conch fritters and a painfully good hot sauce made by the bartender's grandmother.

The real magic happens around 3pm when the day visitors from large hotels head back to their resorts. I stayed until nearly sunset, having the place almost to myself save for a few hotel guests. As the light softened, I pulled out my compact binoculars to spot frigatebirds soaring overhead and tiny reef fish gathering in the shallows—a perfect seventh-inning stretch for my beach-hunting adventure.

Every great beach trip needs a sunset spot, and I found mine on the appropriately named Sunset Beach just west of Christiansted. While not exactly hidden—locals pack this place on Friday evenings—it remains refreshingly absent from most tourist itineraries.

Located near the Buccaneer Resort, Sunset Beach faces due west, creating the perfect backdrop for Caribbean sunsets. The shoreline here is different from the postcard-perfect white sand beaches elsewhere on the island. Instead, you'll find a mix of sand and smooth stones, creating a more textured, natural feel.

What makes this beach special isn't swimming conditions (which are fine but not exceptional) but rather the evening atmosphere. Local families gather for impromptu cookouts, couples spread blankets on the sand, and the occasional musician brings a guitar for sunset serenades.

I arrived about an hour before sunset with my beach blanket and a thermos of rum cocktail I'd mixed at my rental apartment. Finding a perfect spot against a driftwood log, I watched the sky transform through impossible shades of orange, pink and purple as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

The best part? The view includes the small offshore island of Protestant Cay and the Christiansted harbor in the distance, creating a layered landscape that photographers dream about. I captured the scene with my camera, but honestly, no photo does justice to the feeling of sitting there as day transitions to evening.

After sunset, I joined locals at the nearby beach bar for fresh grilled mahi-mahi and plantains. The casual conversation flowed easily—from baseball (I found fellow Cardinals fans!) to island politics to tips about other beaches I should explore on future visits. It was the perfect closing chapter to my weekend of beach exploration.