Seal Rocks by caravan: A lighthouse, wild beaches and world-class fishing

Seal Rocks is a tiny fishing village at the end of a side road off The Lakes Way, wrapped in Myall Lakes National Park on the NSW mid-coast – about as far from the rush as you can get. Fewer than a hundred people live here, and they’ve spent decades fighting off developers to keep it exactly this way; the locals call it ‘the last frontier’. For caravanners, that’s the whole appeal. It’s my pick of the coast: a park right by the beach, a historic lighthouse a short stroll away, world-class fishing off the rocks, and a different beach for whichever way the wind is blowing. You come here to slow down – and end up never wanting to leave.

To get here you leave the highway behind and take The Lakes Way, one of the great touring roads of New South Wales, threading between huge coastal lakes on one side and the ocean on the other. I based myself at Reflections Seal Rocks, right by the sand, and set out to make the most of a place that feels built for exactly this. Here’s how.

Up on the headland stands the reason this village exists – the Sugarloaf Point Lighthouse. First lit in 1875, it’s one of only two lighthouses in the country you climb by a staircase wrapped around the outside. They built it because this coast was a killer – a shipwreck graveyard that claimed more than 24 ships from the early 1800s, many still out there somewhere. It’s an easy 800-metre walk from the car park (about a 45-minute morning stroll all up), and the view from the top is worth every one of those last steep steps. The old keepers’ cottages are now holiday accommodation, so you can even stay the night at the light. And much like Norah Head down the coast, it’s a prime whale-watching perch.

Seal Rocks juts so far out into the Pacific that it catches the East Australian Current, which hits the headland and forms a big back eddy – and that makes it one of the best whale-watching spots on the entire NSW coast. When I visited, I counted at least half a dozen humpbacks in a single 180-degree sweep, and I hadn’t even reached the top. The village is named for the fur seals that once hauled out on the rocks, but these days it’s what’s under the water that pulls the crowds: just offshore is one of the biggest gatherings of grey nurse sharks in the state – a critically endangered species you can dive with almost any day of the year.

This coastline is renowned for its fishing. The same inshore reefs and rocky bombies that made it a nightmare to navigate now hold some of the best snapper, marlin and kingfish on the coast. But you don’t need a boat – I certainly didn’t. With so many little beaches and rocky headlands all facing different directions, there’s always somewhere sheltered to cast a line. I walked down to the rocks to chase tailor, one of the most accessible species going, caught off beaches, rock walls and estuaries all along the coast. All you need is the right safety gear – a life jacket, closed-in shoes and enough experience to read the swell. Fishing like this is a caravanner’s dream: simple, barely any gear, and a truckload of fun.

If fishing’s not your thing, there’s a cracking little community golf course tucked on the edge of the national park at Sandbar, so close to the beach you can hear the waves. It’s wedged between Smiths Lake on one side and the bush on the other, with Cellito Beach just over the dunes – nine holes, par 31, and quite possibly the best view of any course you’ll ever play. Keep an eye on your playing partners, too: out here the locals have four legs, with kangaroos on the fairway at dawn and kookaburras in the gums. It’s a casual course with none of the pressure, which suits players like me who are, let’s say, outright average – and the clubs fit neatly in the gunwale of the van.

When the day’s activities are done, this coast is made for an afternoon swim – and, just like the name suggests, it makes you earn it. My pick is Treachery Beach, a short 15-minute drive and a walk in from the end of Beach Road. It faces almost due south, so it cops the full force of the swell, which is exactly why the surfers love it – and why you treat it with respect. They didn’t hand out the name lightly; this is the same coast that swallowed all those ships. It’s unpatrolled and hidden in the dunes, but when you get it to yourself, it’s wild, empty and all yours.

My home for this leg was the Gator X from JB Caravans, parked up at Reflections Seal Rocks right by the beach. Half the joy of a place like this is the base itself – the clubs slot into the gunwale, there’s always a rod in the back, and at the end of a big day you’ve got somewhere proper to come home to.

This park has a communal guest lounge with a fire, a chessboard, a bar table and a view that had me saying I’d come back every single day. Sure, I could have cooked at the van – it has all the facilities – but Seal Rocks is made for a communal barbecue and a yarn by the fire. Whether you’ve got kids, you’re travelling as a couple, or you’ve rolled in with a big group, there’s something here for everyone.

For caravanners chasing the ideal spot, Seal Rocks is my pick of the bunch. A lighthouse and a bit of history, wild beaches and world-class fishing, whales offshore and a fire to wind down by – all at the quiet end of a famous road. The hardest question I faced all day was where to go next.

Getting there: About 3.5 hours north of Sydney via the Pacific Motorway and The Lakes Way; roughly 45 minutes south of Forster.

Where to stay: Reflections Seal Rocks, beside Number One Beach and a short stroll from the lighthouse track.

Best time to go: Winter for whale watching; year-round for the fishing, golf and beaches.

Don’t miss: Sugarloaf Point Lighthouse, land-based tailor fishing, the Sandbar golf course and Treachery Beach.