On a mid-September day in the Maddalena archipelago, off the northeast shore of Sardinia, autumn still felt far off. The temperature hovered around 85 degrees, but a light Mediterranean wind kept our sailboat moving briskly and the ship’s captain, Luca Imbagliazzo, and me pleasantly cool.  

At Spargi, one of the many undeveloped islands that make up the national park that spans the archipelago, we anchored at Cala Conneri, a small white-sand cove protected by large boulders on each side. There were no other boats, and I dived into a perfectly clear turquoise sea.  

I first visited Sardinia as a child in the 1970s. My parents had always insisted that “the only way to see Sardinia is by boat,” and, indeed, they owned a gorgeous sailboat that they docked over many summers in Porto Cervo, on the southeastern coast of the island.  

I remember fondly the crystal-clear water where you could see every detail of your toes, even when waist deep in the salty sea. We would moor ourselves in deserted coves like the one in Spargi, and I would swim to the beach in the company of our three small dogs, flopping with them on the powder-soft white sand.  

Now that I have returned as an adult to live in Italy, I am slowly reclaiming those childhood spots with my son, now almost 2 years old. Some turned bittersweet after my father died. When I revisited Sardinia and La Maddalena a few years back, I would find myself looking wistfully for our boat’s name among the port side yachts.  

But my travel preferences have also changed. Along with the happy memories of swimming and exploring the coastline are the ones of being in tight quarters with a family of big personalities for months at a time (a few times my sister and I took refuge in the dinghy when parental tiffs broke out).  

Daytime boat rides are quite enough for me now, and I prefer the sense of control that comes with planning an itinerary that mixes time on land and sea. A hotel room at night is more comfortable for me than sleeping below deck, especially with a squirmy toddler and a seasick husband in tow.  

But despite its picture-perfect seaside spots, Sardinia has suffered from both over development in certain places and, in others, a lack of the sort of hotel options that appeal to me as an adult.  

That is beginning to change. It’s because of recent hotel openings that I have started to rediscover the island’s other regions, especially in the northern, less-visited section of the island. La Maddalena Hotel and Yacht Club, where I stayed during my September visit, is a 100-room property that has taken over the island’s former Boat Arsenal and caters to a clientele who, like me, wants that mix of comfort and sea access.  

Despite a somewhat corporate vibe, it suited my purposes well. And it is a gateway into one of Italy’s most naturally beautiful areas.  

“Each bay is different,” said Imbagliazzo, a native of La Maddalena, on our trip through the archipelago. “The rocks in the water turn from white to shades of pink to black, the sand from the finest white powder to gray smooth stones, and the sea from a perfectly clear shade to a cerulean blue.” Equally appealing was the juxtaposition of the sky, mountains and water; it seemed that the rugged backdrop of the American West had dropped right into the sea.  

The sheer diversity of the coastline continued after a short ferry ride to Sardinia’s main island and on the drive to Alghero, a 16th-century fortified town to the northwest. As the road skirted above the white arc of Cala Pischina we could not resist pulling over for a quick swim.  

Small reefs offshore create perfect snorkeling conditions and natural swimming pools. After a dip we sat at a plastic table in the shade and ate panini stuffed with local Pecorino sheep cheese and sipped cold Ichnusas, the preferred Sardinian beer, that we’d bought from a food truck parked above the beach. The truck’s owner blasted Sardinian folk tunes from old cassette tapes. With a perfect view overlooking the bay, we found it hard to tear ourselves away.  

Our next stop was the new Villa Mosca, a villa in the Liberty style (Italy’s answer to art deco) that has been reinvented as a boutique hotel in Alghero. The city is one of Sardinia’s most atmospheric, with 15th-century ramparts and bustling restaurants and bars along the historic centre’s seafront.  

There are also beautiful beaches nearby, like Maria Pia, where we ate spaghetti and vongole just a stone’s throw from the sea at the excellent La Conchiglia restaurant.  

For me Sardinia’s greatest joy lies in seeing Italians’ childlike appreciation of the beach. The children may have gone back to school by mid-September, but there are still a good number of people there who are engaging in seaside pursuits with the same kind of enthusiasm they did in their younger years. Matrons who devoted the summer solely to tanning have turned the deepest nut hues, younger couples in barely-there suits are taking their exercise thigh high in the water, and middle-age men snorkel like 10-year olds.