Shell Cemetery Beach is a different kind of beach in Santa Maria: kilometres of broken shells, rough sea and a quiet walk. Not for swimming or perfect photos. Ideal for strolling, listening to the waves and watching local life without decoration.
When the ground crunches under your feet
You leave the pretty part of Santa Maria and, almost without noticing, the sound changes. No more soft sand — now it crunches. Every step lands on shell fragments, thousands of them, maybe millions, breaking with the waves and under your feet. This is not a beach to lie down on. It’s a beach where you watch where you step.
A beach made of leftovers
Shell Cemetery Beach — Praia do Cemitério de Conchas — isn’t “beautiful” in the classic sense. It’s a stretch of coastline covered almost entirely with broken shells, the remains of years, even decades, of fishing activity. Some arrived naturally with the sea; others were left here after the edible flesh was removed.
Is it natural? Artificial? Probably a bit of both. What’s certain is that this is not a postcard beach, and it doesn’t pretend to be one.
It works for people who enjoy strange, imperfect and slightly rough places. If you’re looking for fine sand and calm swimming, you’re in the wrong spot.
Walking, listening and observing
You don’t swim here. The sea is usually rough, the seabed rocky, and algae are common. But walking is a different story.
The walk is long, curious and surprisingly relaxing. The sound of waves breaking over shells creates a dry, almost metallic noise, very different from other beaches on Sal.
Finding whole shells is difficult. Very difficult. If you spot one, it probably already has an owner… or a price. Children and a few vendors offer more or less intact pieces. You can look, you can move on. No pressure.
You’ll also often see fishermen cleaning fish, fixing nets or simply sitting and watching the sea. Everyday life, unfiltered.
Calm, but not empty
In the morning it’s usually almost deserted, apart from a curious walker or early vendors. At sunset, the place improves noticeably: less heat, better light and a slightly melancholic tone that suits it surprisingly well.
There are no formal services, but nearby you’ll find simple beach shacks, surf huts or the occasional bench where you can sit and do nothing for a while.
This isn’t a beach to stay on. It’s a beach to pass through… and keep thinking about.
Misaligned expectations
Many photos exaggerate. A lot. Some people arrive expecting mountains of perfect shells and leave disappointed. Most are broken, eroded or buried. And yes, compared to older images, there do seem to be fewer than before.
Others are bothered by the origin of the place: leftovers, waste, human activity. If that makes you uncomfortable, there isn’t much here for you.
How not to puncture the experience
— Wear sturdy sandals or water shoes. Shells are sharp.
— Come with the idea of walking, not swimming.
— If you buy a shell, do it out of sympathy, not for a “unique treasure”.
— Easy to combine with a coffee, ice cream or simply sitting and watching the sea.
— Sunset is far better than midday.
A strange beauty with no intention to please
Shell Cemetery Beach doesn’t compete with Sal’s famous beaches. It can’t — and doesn’t want to. It’s rough, noisy and a bit uncomfortable, shaped by leftovers and time.
But if you stop, listen and accept it for what it is, it has a rare kind of beauty — the kind that doesn’t photograph well and doesn’t need approval.
You don’t come here to find perfect shells. You come to understand why they aren’t.
