The track from the car park winds through coastal scrub thick with banksias and tea trees, their shadows dappling the sandy path. Ten minutes later, the forest opens to reveal Squid Bay: a sweeping arc of sand so pale it rivals Hyams Beach, yet sees a fraction of the visitors. The bay curves gently, sheltered by wooded headlands that muffle the wind and create a pocket of stillness rare along this exposed coastline.
“One of the few Jervis Bay beaches where the walk-in requirement ensures you'll never compete for sand.”
White cliffs over a desert beach
Wade into water the color of blue-green glass, shallow enough that you'll walk twenty metres before it reaches your waist. Small reef formations dot the northern edge, attracting schools of luderick and the occasional curious cuttlefish. Families spread picnic blankets on the upper beach while toddlers patrol the tideline, collecting moon snail shells and bleached cuttlebones. The absence of facilities—no kiosk, no surf club, no parking meters—preserves the quiet.
Late afternoon light turns the surrounding eucalyptus groves golden, and the water takes on an almost luminous quality. You'll hear the soft thud of wallabies moving through the undergrowth before you see them emerge to graze near the scrubline. Pack out what you pack in; the remoteness that keeps Squid Bay pristine also means there's no one else to look after it.