Most visitors to Sainte-Marguerite never stray beyond the island's north-facing beaches, content to snap photos of the Esterel range and return on the next boat to Cannes. But those who follow the coastal trail west discover this tucked-away cove, where the seabed drops quickly into water so blue it looks dyed. Posidonia seagrass sways just offshore, sheltering octopus and starfish; bring a mask and you'll drift above meadows the texture of shag carpet, fish darting through blades that catch the light.
“It's the only cove on Sainte-Marguerite where posidonia meadows thrive close enough to shore for easy snorkeling.”
Credit: UnsplashCrashing wave at sunset on the shoreline
The shore itself is all smooth stones and sun-bleached wood—no attendant selling deckchairs, no parasol rental. You spread your towel on warm rock, the scent of wild rosemary thick in the air, and the only sounds are cicadas and the occasional kayak scraping onto pebbles. In May or late September, you may have the cove entirely to yourself. Even in July, when the Côte d'Azur seethes, Crique du Dragon rarely holds more than a dozen souls.
Pack everything in: water, a baguette from Cannes' Forville market, a paperback. The island's sole restaurant sits a twenty-minute walk back toward the fort. Stay until the afternoon ferry horn echoes through the pines, then retrace your steps reluctantly, salt-stiff and sun-drunk, the mainland's glitter feeling suddenly very far away.
