Why an estuary picnic beats a beach day

Estuaries are the quiet overachievers of the British coastline. Where a river meets the sea you get shelter, shallow water, mudflats teeming with life and a horizon that shifts with every tide. For families, that combination is hard to beat: no pounding surf, fewer crowds, and a picnic pitch you can reach with a pushchair, a cool bag and a mildly reluctant teenager in tow.

The trick is choosing a spot that works for everybody. Somewhere with a bench for grandparents, grass for a game of rounders, and enough mud and water to keep children happily occupied without anyone needing rescuing. Here is what to look for before you pack the rug.

Finding a pitch that suits all ages

• Quayside benches. Old harbour walls and stone quays almost always have a run of seating with a view straight down the channel. They are usually level, close to parking, and mercifully close to a loo. Arrive before noon in summer to claim one.
• Grassy foreshore parks. Many estuaries have a strip of council-owned green between the road and the water. Look for a gentle slope rather than a steep bank — flat ground is essential for ball games, folding chairs and anyone unsteady on their feet.
• Country park viewpoints. Higher ground above the water gives you the whole estuary spread out like a map, plus picnic tables, bins and often a small café. The walk down to the mud is usually short enough for little legs.
• Boardwalks and hides. Nature reserves on estuaries frequently offer accessible boardwalks and timber screens. These are ideal for birdwatching and for anyone using a wheelchair or a mobility scooter, and they keep small children safely away from soft mud.
• Slipways and hardstanding. Good for crabbing with a line and a bucket, but check the tide first. A slipway that is dry at lunchtime can be under two feet of water an hour later.

Packing for a tidal afternoon

Estuary weather changes fast, and the wind funnels along the channel even when the inland forecast promises calm. A few extras make all the difference:

• A flask of hot tea or squash, whatever the season.
• A rug plus a waterproof tarp underneath it — estuary grass is often damp.
• A windbreak. You will be grateful for it within twenty minutes.
• Layers for everyone, including a spare jumper for the child who insists it is warm.
• Wellies or old trainers. Not sandals.
• Binoculars, even a cheap pair, and a small bird book.
• A ball, a frisbee or a kite for the open grass.
• A bin bag, because bins are sometimes missing on quieter stretches.
• A printed or downloaded tide table for the day — this is the single most useful thing you can carry.

Birds, boats and staying safe

Estuaries are internationally important for wading birds, and autumn and winter are the best months for watching. Expect oystercatchers piping along the waterline, curlews with their long curved bills, redshank, shelduck, little egrets and grey herons standing perfectly still. Cormorants dry their wings on channel markers, and in winter you may see hundreds of wigeon and dunlin wheeling over the mudflats at high tide. Encourage children to watch from a distance and keep to paths — disturbed birds burn energy they need to survive cold weather.

On safety, three rules cover most situations. Know the tide times and never walk out onto mudflats or sandbanks that could be cut off. Stay off soft mud entirely; it is far more dangerous than it looks, and it is easy to sink past the knee. And supervise water constantly, even at the edge of a shallow channel, because estuary currents are stronger than they appear.

Keep dogs on leads near nesting and roosting birds, and near any slipway where boats are launching.

A shoreline with layers of history

Estuaries have been working landscapes for centuries, and a little local knowledge turns a picnic into a treasure hunt. Look for the remains of oyster beds and the low stone walls of old salterns, where seawater was once boiled for salt. You may spot lime kilns built into the bank, the stumps of jetties from a time when small coasters carried coal and corn, or the brick footings of a vanished ferry crossing.

Smuggling was rife on quieter estuaries in the eighteenth century, and many a village pub still tells the tale. Ask in the local shop or read the information board at the car park — these small histories are usually well documented and children love the idea of hidden contraband under the very grass they are sitting on.

Local food and the last practical touches

Half the pleasure of estuary living is eating what comes off the water. Buy local where you can: a farm shop for cheese, tomatoes and proper pork pies; a harbour trader for dressed crab, smoked fish or mussels; a village bakery for pasties and buns. If you are picnicking out of a cool bag, keep shellfish chilled and eat it the same day.

Finish with a walk to the water's edge at low tide, collect a few shells, and leave the rest where you found it. Arrive early, check the tide, take your litter home, and you will have found the sort of spot your family returns to for years.