14 Secluded Beaches Where You’ll Hardly See Another Soul

There’s a certain hush that settles over a beach when you’re the only one there—the steady breath of the waves, wind whistling through dune grass, the squeak of untouched sand beneath your feet. If your perfect day by the sea involves more horizon than humans, these remote, low-key stretches deliver. They aren’t impossible to reach, but they do place a few hurdles between you and the water: long dirt roads, short hikes, limited services, or seasonal windows. That’s the point. Fewer crowds, more room to breathe.

What “secluded” really means

Solitude tends to come from a mix of factors:

• Access requires effort: a hike, a boat ride, or slow-going dirt tracks.

• Protection or regulation: nature reserves, caps on visitors, or day-use-only rules.

• Conditions: cold water, strong currents, or windy afternoons keep casual beachgoers away.

• Seasonality: off-season treasures stay quiet outside peak holiday weeks.

The beaches below aren’t secrets to locals. They’re simply places where, even on a blue-sky day, you’ll likely find yourself with more seabirds than neighbors—especially if you time it right, check the tides, and pack properly.

How to use this guide

For each beach you’ll find why it stays quiet, how to get there, and practical safety notes. Cell service is often nonexistent; download maps, carry water, and respect local regulations. Many of these spots have no lifeguards. If swimming, read the conditions on arrival and plan conservative choices.

14 beaches where you’ll hardly see another soul

Sandwood Bay — Sutherland, Scotland

Why it stays quiet: No road access and North Atlantic moods keep Sandwood Bay wonderfully empty. You reach it via a 4-mile (6.5 km) path from Blairmore, crossing peat moorland to a vast curve of sand with roaring surf and the sea stack Am Buachaille offshore.

Getting there: Park at the Blairmore car park (managed by the John Muir Trust) and follow a well-marked trail. Allow 1.5–2 hours each way. Wild camping follows Scotland’s Outdoor Access Code—pitch late, pack out everything, and leave juniper and dune systems undisturbed.

Best window and safety notes: May–September has longer days; shoulder months are beautiful but windblown. The water is cold year-round and rips are common—paddling ankle-deep is usually the wise call. Midges can be fierce on calm summer evenings; bring repellent and layers.

Blacklock Point Beach — Oregon Coast, USA

Why it stays quiet: No signs on Highway 101, a forest hike, and a steep scramble down keep this headland-framed pocket beach blissfully empty even in summer.

Getting there: From near Langlois, take Airport Road to the informal trailhead and hike roughly 2 miles through coastal forest to the cliffs of Blacklock Point. Several user paths descend to beaches—choose low tide for safer access and more sand.

Best window and safety notes: Late summer into early fall tends to be calmer and clearer. Watch for sneaker waves, unstable cliffs, and slippery rocks. There are no facilities; pack a paper map, water, and a tide table. Don’t turn your back on the ocean.

Papohaku Beach — Moloka‘i, Hawai‘i, USA

Why it stays quiet: Moloka‘i doesn’t chase mass tourism, and Papohaku’s three miles of sand are so broad they swallow footprints. On many weekdays you might share sunsets only with a few locals and passing humpbacks offshore in winter.

Getting there: Drive to Papohaku Beach Park on the island’s west end. Parking and basic facilities sit behind the dunes. If camping, secure a county permit in advance and expect dark skies and bright stars.

Best window and safety notes: The shore break can be heavy, especially in winter; there’s no lifeguard, so keep swimming conservative. Mornings are calmer; trades often rise by afternoon. Bring shade—there’s little natural cover.

Loggerhead Key — Dry Tortugas National Park, Florida, USA

Why it stays quiet: Reaching this tiny isle is half the adventure. Day tours don’t stop here; you’ll need your own seaworthy boat or a private charter plus an NPS permit. The payoff is a luminous reef, a historic lighthouse, and very few people.

Getting there: Most visitors reach nearby Garden Key by ferry or seaplane from Key West, then continue on a private vessel to Loggerhead Key. Obtain permits and anchoring guidance from park rangers. There’s no dock; landings are weather-dependent.

Best window and safety notes: Summer offers calmer seas and excellent snorkeling visibility, but watch the forecast closely and avoid late-season storms. Bring all water, sun protection, and a VHF radio. Strong currents and boat traffic demand a dive flag.

Taylor Head Provincial Park (Bull Beach and beyond) — Nova Scotia, Canada

Why it stays quiet: The Eastern Shore is low-key even by Nova Scotia standards, and the park’s miles of trails spread visitors thin. It’s the place to walk, beachcomb, and listen to the Atlantic, not to set up under a cluster of umbrellas.

Getting there: From Highway 7, follow signs to Taylor Head Provincial Park near Spry Bay. A few short paths lead to multiple coves, including large, lovely Bull Beach. Facilities are minimal; check seasonal opening times.

Best window and safety notes: July to early September offers warmer water by local standards. Fog, wind, and quick-changing weather are part of the charm—pack layers. No lifeguards. Keep an eye on the tide and watch for shorebirds nesting in the dunes.

Playa San Rafael — Baja California (near Bahía de los Ángeles), Mexico

Why it stays quiet: This is Baja at its most spacious—empty desert meeting a sapphire Gulf. The long dirt approach filters out casual traffic, and you’ll typically find only a fisherman or two.

Getting there: From Bahía de los Ángeles, it’s a rough, sometimes washboarded drive south along the coast (4×4 advised after storms). Ask locally about current road conditions. There are no services; overnight camping is common—bring cash to buy fresh fish if the local shack is open.

Best window and safety notes: November–April offers milder temperatures and fewer bugs. Summer can be scorching. Bring more water than you think you need, plus shade and a trash plan. Offshore winds can pick up quickly; anchor high if camping on the sand.

17-Mile Beach — Barbuda, Antigua & Barbuda

Why it stays quiet: Barbuda’s population is tiny, and its most spectacular strand is a long, pale ribbon with almost nowhere to hide a crowd. Walk in any direction and the footprints vanish behind you.

Getting there: Ferry or small plane from Antigua to Codrington, then arrange a taxi or boat drop to Princess Diana Beach and the adjacent sandspit. Storms occasionally reshape the shoreline; local guides know current access points.

Best window and safety notes: December–May brings gentle trades and clear water. There’s little shade—bring a sunbrella and plenty to drink. Avoid driving on dunes and watch for turtle nests. If you’re boating, mind the shallows and shifting sandbars.

Playa de Carnota — Galicia, Spain

Why it stays quiet: Northern Spain has postcard beaches without the Costa del Sol numbers, and Carnota’s 7 km arc, wetlands, and dunes offer space to roam even in August.

Getting there: The beach sits near the village of Carnota in A Coruña province. Park at one of several small lots and access the sand via boardwalks that protect delicate habitat. You can walk for hours here.

Best window and safety notes: Late spring and early fall bring light crowds and golden light. The Atlantic can be powerful; if you’re not a confident ocean swimmer, stay shallow. Bring a windbreaker and plan a seafood lunch in town afterward.

Kedrodasos Beach — Crete, Greece

Why it stays quiet: Just far enough from busy Elafonissi, Kedrodasos requires a final gravel drive and short hike. Juniper trees shade white pebbles and sand, and shallow, turquoise water hides a rocky reef that deters party flotillas.

Getting there: From the southwest coast road, follow signs toward Kedrodasos and park at the end of a rough track. A 10–20 minute walk over stony terrain brings you to several little coves. No facilities; occasional nudist sunbathers.

Best window and safety notes: Aim for weekdays in May–June or September–October. Please don’t tie hammocks to the fragile junipers or trample roots. The reef makes for excellent snorkeling on calm mornings; bring water shoes.

Sugar Dunes Beach (Al Khaluf) — Al Wusta, Oman

Why it stays quiet: This is a shimmering meeting of white dunes and cobalt sea with no infrastructure at all. You’ll need a proper 4×4 and desert-driving basics, which keeps the crowds away.

Getting there: From the fishing village of Al Khaluf, head south along the coast to the dunes. Deflate tires, avoid soft patches, and keep momentum steady. Camp on firm sand well above the high-tide line. No services, no shade, no cell.

Best window and safety notes: October–April is best; summer is brutally hot. Bring ample water, recovery gear, and a trash plan. Winds can be strong in the afternoon; pitch tents with sand anchors. Leave turtle nesting areas undisturbed and pack out every trace.

Koppie Alleen — De Hoop Nature Reserve, Western Cape, South Africa

Why it stays quiet: De Hoop is a conservation showpiece with gravel access, day visitor limits, and no coastal town to feed weekend crowds. In winter, southern right whales come so close you can hear them breathe from the dunes.

Getting there: Pay the conservation fee at the reserve gate, then follow well-graded gravel to Koppie Alleen. From the parking area, wooden stairs descend to tide pools and a wide beach backed by tall, pale dunes.

Best window and safety notes: June–November for whales; late summer for mellow beach days. Swimming is risky due to rips and wildlife—enjoy the tidal pools instead. Watch for baboons (secure food) and respect sensitive dune vegetation.

Mason Bay — Stewart Island/Rakiura, New Zealand

Why it stays quiet: It’s a mission—in the best way. You either fly onto the sand (weather permitting) or hike in, crossing wetlands and low forest before emerging onto a wild, empty, 14-km beach.

Getting there: Most hikers take a water taxi to Freshwater Landing, then walk 15–20 km to Mason Bay Hut along DOC tracks. Alternatively, Stewart Island Flights lands on the beach when conditions allow. Book huts or carry camping gear per DOC guidance.

Best window and safety notes: December–March has longer days. Expect fast-changing weather, strong winds, and sandflies. Kiwi sightings at dusk are common—keep quiet, use red-light headlamps, and give birds space.

Thomas River Beach — Cape Arid National Park, Western Australia

Why it stays quiet: It’s far from everything, and that’s the magic. East of Esperance, Cape Arid’s beaches are blindingly white and surprisingly empty, thanks to long drives and limited facilities.

Getting there: From Esperance, it’s roughly 120 km to the Thomas River campground. Sealed roads give way to gravel; 2WD is fine in dry conditions, but some sections beyond require high clearance or 4WD. Camp among coastal heath with beach access nearby.

Best window and safety notes: Autumn and late spring often bring mild weather and clear water. There are strong rips and no lifeguards—treat the ocean with care. Carry all drinking water, sun protection, and be snake-aware in warm months.

Cresta de Gallo — Sibuyan, Romblon, Philippines

Why it stays quiet: A slim, gleaming sandbar adrift in the Sibuyan Sea, Cresta de Gallo has no jetty, no resort, and no shops—just seagrass, shallow coral, and a few fishing boats resting in the lee.

Getting there: Base on Sibuyan Island (San Fernando or nearby village) and hire a bangka for the 45–60 minute ride, weather permitting. Landings are by small boat directly on the sand. A tiny caretakers’ hut may collect a modest fee; pack everything you need.

Best window and safety notes: November–May generally offers calmer seas and clear water. During the southwest monsoon (June–October), expect stronger winds and rough crossings. Bring a dry bag, reef-safe sunscreen, and leave shells and starfish where they belong.

Planning tips for finding empty shores

• Go early, go late: Dawn light, cooler air, and empty parking lots are your allies. On popular islands, midweek and shoulder seasons (May–June, September–October) are prime.

• Check tides and swell: Many of these beaches transform at low tide, revealing safe access routes or tide pools. Big swells mean stronger rips—don’t push your luck.

• Pack like there’s nothing there: Because there usually isn’t. Water, snacks, shade, a small first-aid kit, a warm layer, and a trash bag belong in your daypack. For desert or tropical spots, double the water you think you’ll drink.

• Navigation isn’t optional: Download offline maps, carry a paper topo or park map, and know your route before the signal disappears. In remote coastal deserts, a GPS and a tire-pressure gauge are worth their weight.

• Respect local rules: Permits, conservation fees, drone restrictions, and camping policies protect fragile places. In juniper groves and dune systems, step lightly—roots and crusts take years to heal.

• Swim smart: No lifeguards means conservative decisions. If there’s a strong shore break, enjoy the shallows or tide pools. When in doubt, don’t go out.

• Leave no trace: Pack out everything—including food scraps and toilet paper. Avoid fires unless explicitly allowed, and keep vehicles off dunes and vegetation.

• Mind the wildlife: From nesting turtles to shorebirds and curious foxes, give animals space. Store food securely and never feed them.

Picking the right beach for you

• Short hike, big payoff: Sandwood Bay; Blacklock Point; Taylor Head’s coves.

• Drive-to solitude: Papohaku; Playa de Carnota; Koppie Alleen; Thomas River.

• Boat-access wild: Loggerhead Key; Cresta de Gallo; Barbuda’s long sandspit.

• Multi-day or backcountry feel: Mason Bay on Stewart Island; Baja’s Playa San Rafael with a starry night’s camp; Oman’s Sugar Dunes under a Milky Way sky.

The common thread is simple: when access takes intention, the shore opens up. If you bring patience, a flexible plan, and a deep respect for wild coasts, these 14 beaches will reward you with something rare—the space to feel small, unhurried, and entirely at home by the water.