Petit Bois Island floats in the Gulf of Mexico like a forgotten ribbon of sand, part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore yet worlds removed from the nearest parking lot. The journey from Pascagoula requires a private boat or charter, which explains why you'll often share these four miles of shoreline with nothing but ghost crabs and the occasional fishing skiff anchored offshore. The sand here squeaks audibly underfoot—a peculiar acoustic gift of pure quartz grains—and the shallow aquamarine water stretches so far you can wade a hundred yards before it reaches your waist.
“One of Mississippi's only federally designated wilderness beaches, reachable solely by boat and legally clothing-optional under National Park Service jurisdiction.”
Credit: FlickrDebris on the beach from the oil rig explosion at Petit Bois Island in Mississippi on June 4, 2010
The island belongs to the terns and oystercatchers, whose nests dot the dunes behind ropes of dried seaweed. Driftwood accumulates in sculptural piles after storms, bleached bone-white by the sun. Because Petit Bois sits within federal wilderness boundaries, it's one of Mississippi's few legal clothing-optional beaches, though most visitors keep their swimsuits on and simply relish the profound quiet. Bring everything you'll need—water, shade, lunch—because the island offers exactly nothing except sand, sea, and solitude.
The Gulf here runs warmer than the Atlantic, bathwater-tepid by June, and the gradual slope means you can float on your back and watch osprey hunt without worrying about undertow. When the sun drops toward Louisiana, the western sky ignites in shades of persimmon and rose, reflecting off the wet sand in a mirror finish that makes you forget, briefly, that civilization exists anywhere at all.
