Western Australia’s Coral Coast Road Trip

The three-mile-long white sand dunes at Lancelin rise abruptly from the coastal scrub, resembling a sugar bowl tipped onto shag carpet. Ninety minutes north of Perth via a leisurely highway called Indian Ocean Drive, visitors can sandboard down their 45-degree face. However, on the first morning of my 800-mile road trip to the North West Cape, I wasn’t easily diverted. The itinerary indicated lunch an hour ahead, so I pressed forward for rock lobster in Cervantes, a small town farther up the coast.

Twenty minutes later, another set of sugar dunes appeared on my left, followed shortly by a paved road that cut back toward the Indian Ocean, now brightly visible on the horizon. This time it occurred to me that the essence of a road trip is not solely focused on the destination. I turned left toward the rich iodine smell of beached seaweed and, at the road’s end, met a woman walking her dog through a settlement of corrugated metal shacks. She seemed to be around 80, lean and sun-toughened, and she greeted me with a handshake that felt as warm as a grandmother’s hug.

“Where are you going?” she asked. “Ningaloo Reef,” I answered.

“Why there? Why not stay here? It’s paradise.”

Her home turned out to be Wedge, a timeless squatters’ settlement where Annie McGuinness had lived for 45 years. She persuaded me to stay for tea and meet her neighbors, both named Chris. “Every Tom, Dick, and Harry around here is named Chris,” Annie explained as she served tea accompanied by cake and sausage rolls. After our chat, she handed me a “Save Wedge” bumper sticker and expressed her concerns about modern improvements—like the paved road that led me to her. “The cars like the bitumen, but we don’t,” Annie lamented as she escorted me back to my vehicle. “It took all the adventure out of getting here.”

I discovered, with respect to Annie and her pioneering spirit, that there was still plenty of adventure along Western Australia’s sparsely populated Coral Coast. My weeklong itinerary connected several distinct subregions, each with its own unique flavor. Indian Ocean Drive, north of Perth, led to tranquil surfside communities and national parks. The Midwest, centered around Geraldton, showcased wildflowers, whale-watching opportunities, and early European settlement heritage. Shark Bay, with its unspoiled marine habitats and stark landscapes, lives up to its UNESCO World Heritage designation. Lastly, the North West Cape beyond Exmouth is a prime spot where snorkelers launch from empty beaches.

During the journey, the spectacular scenery varied from Wedge’s white-sand beaches to the striking red coastal cliffs at Kalbarri, and rippling wheat fields in Greenough. The locals I encountered were welcoming and kind, contributing to the serene atmosphere of each day filled with long stretches of empty roads. “There’s nothing to see,” a regular visitor from Perth remarked about the eight-hour drive from Shark Bay to Exmouth. “It’s beautiful.” I comprehended his sentiment. The entire week felt like a nostalgic adventure reminiscent of the past when scenic locales remained uncrowded and uncommercialized.

“Most foreigners don’t know about this region, most Australians don’t know about this region, and most Western Australians don’t know about this region,” said a local on his way back to Perth from Coral Bay. “It’s unspoiled.”

Day 1: Fremantle to Jurien Bay

Jet lag had me up before dawn, providing the perfect opportunity to explore Fremantle, a historic port city just 30 minutes southwest of Perth, as sleepy baristas prepared for the day ahead. Clouds wept over the harbor as I set out, but sunlight eventually illuminated the dunes by the time I reached Lancelin. The Lobster Shack in Cervantes serves Western Australia’s iconic “cray,” or rock lobster, simply split, grilled, and nestled atop fries. After lunch, I made my way back to Nambung National Park to witness Pinnacles, an eerie gathering of limestone monoliths shaped by wind-driven sands.

Day 2: Jurien Bay to Geraldton

Mountainous dunes in the Southern Beekeepers Nature Reserve transitioned into sandy heath abloom with shrubs and wildflowers in Lesueur National Park. By midday, I entered an emerald valley filled with wheat fields and sheep pastures. The historic Central Greenough and nearby Pioneer Museum tell the story of early settler struggles and the displacement of Aboriginal communities.

Day 3: Geraldton to Kalbarri

The day began with a scenic Cessna flight to the largely uninhabited Abrolhos Islands, home to over 100 islands rich in seabirds and wallabies. The flight, arranged through Geraldton Air Charter, offered a breathtaking view of the coast. Scattered rain showers painted rainbows across our flight path, as humpback whales danced in the ocean below. “Some say there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow,” my pilot shared. “In the Abrolhos, there’s a pod of whales.” Back on land, I spent time in Horrocks, a picturesque beach town, but quickly moved past the Instagram-famous Hutt Lagoon, a salt lake that turns intergalactic pink due to natural algae, heading to the tiny fishing village of Kalbarri by dusk.

Day 4: Kalbarri to Shark Bay

After breakfast, I drove three miles down the coast to Mushroom Rock and stopped at a natural bridge formed by fierce surf. The inland route through Kalbarri National Park showcased vibrant wildflowers lit in shades of pink, yellow, and white—similar to summer snow. North of the park, the scrub country was affected by feral goats, posing a road danger, yet an electrified barrier protected the ecological sanctuary at Shark Bay. Black stromatolites, living fossils from the dawn of life on Earth, absorbed sunlight into their rocky forms. Thousands of years of accumulated cockle shells covered Shell Beach in unfathomable numbers.

Day 5: Dirk Hartog Island

This rugged destination, named after a Dutch seafarer who landed in 1616, is a former sheep station that transformed into a national park. Kieran Wardle, the grandson of the last pastoral leaseholder, manages the island’s accommodation, the Dirk Hartog Island Eco Lodge, with his wife, Tory. This lodge offers simple rooms in a whitewashed stone shearing shed and glamping tents on a sheltered cove. Kieran also pilots the one-car ferry to the mainland. Covering 50 miles and lacking paved roads, this island has jeep tracks that lead to high sea cliffs punctured by blowholes, pristine fishing spots, and remote campsites. “During peak season, there might be 100 people on 153,000 acres,” shared Mike Tidy, a frequent visitor. “Not bad odds.”

Day 6: Cape Range Peninsula

The rough midpoint of the last day’s drive took me through Western Australia’s fruit bowl, Carnarvon, where farm stands offered fresh biodynamic bananas and papayas. After hours on the road, I reached the gateway to the Cape Range at Exmouth, which appeared to be a contemporary frontier supply post, offering snorkeling gear for rent and craft beers for sale. As I rounded the top of the Cape, past Vlamingh Head, I arrived at Sal Salis Ningaloo Reef safari camp, featuring tented accommodations on the ocean’s edge, where wild cockatoos flock at dawn, and sea turtles visit the coral gardens adorned with giant clams. Beyond that point, the paved road surrendered to a sand track stretching 135 miles south, all the way to Coral Bay. “Boom!” exclaimed a Sal Salis staff member planning to make the bumpy drive at season’s end. “Adventure time.”