Chapter 1: The Nostalgia of Beaches

The earliest memories of my life are intertwined with the beaches of Cocoa Beach, Florida, where I took my first steps. Each moment of my childhood is enriched with memories of sand, waves, and the exhilaration of the ocean breeze. I graduated from high school in Virginia Beach and spent my twenties living in Coronado, California, just a stone's throw from the chilly Pacific. The ocean is my second home.

However, it saddens me to witness the increasing privatization of beaches. The joyous experience of feeling sand between your toes and splashing in the water is slowly being transformed into a privilege rather than a basic right. This gradual exclusion is not the result of a single, sweeping decision but rather a manifestation of systemic classism. The disheartening reality is that there may come a time when enjoying the beach is deemed a luxury only for those who can afford it.

Recently, while strolling through downtown Clearwater—just a short drive from my Tampa home—I noticed a growing trend. Clearwater's beaches, once mostly public, are being encroached upon by the Church of Scientology, which is acquiring large swathes of valuable land. This, combined with the commercialization of the area, has led to an influx of upscale properties along the waterfront. I spotted a family with two young children, both under ten, facing disappointment as they stood before a private property sign blocking a clear path to the beach. Their hopes for a day at the beach were dashed as they turned away, beach gear in hand.

A chilling thought crossed my mind: a future where access to beaches could be restricted to those who pay exorbitant fees, perhaps even requiring permits to step on the sand. This dystopian vision doesn’t seem too far-fetched.

According to the Public Trust Doctrine, a portion of every beach should remain open to the public. However, the term "some" is ambiguous and often leads to complications. Lido Beach in New York serves as a prime example. While technically open to the public up to the high tide line, gaining access can be nearly impossible without trespassing on private property. One boardwalk permits entry only to residents, who have a key fob for an electronic gate. The only other option is to stay at an overpriced hotel on the beach.

In Florida, only 40% of beaches are designated as public. Just before leaving office in 2019, former Governor Rick Scott repealed a law that would have ensured beach access remained public, a decision made all the more questionable given his ownership of beachfront property. This blatant conflict of interest exemplifies how personal gain can undermine public access.

Yet, Florida's accessibility is still better than many other states. Moving north, the situation worsens: Maine offers public access to only 6.5% of its beaches, while Massachusetts provides less than 12%. Many cities prioritize revenue from beachfront properties over public access, as wealthy homeowners contribute significantly to property tax revenues. This choice, however, can detrimentally affect tourism and the cultural vibrancy of coastal communities.

Even where laws supporting public access exist, private homeowners often find ways to exclude others. In Malibu, California, some beachfront property owners have erected fake "no parking" signs to deter beachgoers. One such sign, crudely crafted, declared, "NO PARKING ANY TIME—TOW AWAY ZONE." Many of these signs were so convincing that law enforcement mistakenly treated them as legitimate.

The city faces a dilemma: it boasts some of the best beaches in the country, yet access is often restricted to the ultra-wealthy. Although city officials have taken steps to remove these misleading signs, the issue persists.

From the resorts' perspective, some argue that restricting access is a means to mitigate liability. For instance, in Siesta Key, Florida, a resort imposed no-trespassing signs after a non-guest teenager was found unconscious on their beach. The resort claimed it needed to protect itself from potential legal repercussions, asserting that separating public and private spaces was safer for everyone.

Having worked in real estate construction, I remain skeptical of this narrative. It appears that resorts prioritize enhancing customer experiences and increasing profits over genuine concerns for liability.

Several organizations are actively fighting for open access. The Surfrider Foundation monitors beach access laws and actively contests claims made by private entities over public beaches. They recently engaged in a legal battle with billionaire Vinod Khosla, who purchased a large property on Martin's Beach, California, and subsequently closed the only public access boardwalk. Surfrider ultimately prevailed in court, with the U.S. Supreme Court declining Khosla's appeal.

Historically, American beaches were widely accessible to all. It was only with the commercialization of real estate in the early 20th century that access for the working class and minorities, particularly Black Americans, was curtailed. In 1924, California officials seized beachfront property from a Black family, the Bruces, claiming it was needed for a public park but leaving it vacant for 30 years. This year, the property was finally returned to the Bruces' heirs, who are selling it back to the county for $20 million.

The takeaway is that states still have the opportunity to amend these injustices. My hope is for a balanced approach where those who wish to enjoy their success with beachfront properties can do so without monopolizing access and transforming beaches into exclusive retreats.

We must uphold the Public Trust Doctrine, which promises to keep our beautiful beaches, lakes, and rivers open to everyone. These are communal resources, not items to be fenced off. I envision a future where countless children, regardless of their socioeconomic status or race, can cherish the beach as deeply as I do.

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Chapter 2: The Threat of Privatization

The first video titled "Why beaches disappear and what we do to fix it" explores the ongoing crisis of beach access and potential solutions.

The second video titled "Coastal Crisis: California's Vanishing Beaches" delves into the alarming trend of beach privatization in California.