Coll Baix remains one of northern Mallorca's last roadless beaches — a 200-metre crescent of ivory pebbles pressed between limestone cliffs that rise vertically from the Mediterranean. Until the late 1990s, the cove saw fewer than a dozen visitors each summer; a four-kilometre footpath descending 180 metres from the nearest car park on the Formentor peninsula kept casual tourism at bay. When regional authorities closed even that trailhead to private vehicles in 2018, citing erosion and wildfire risk, the beach became effectively inaccessible by land. Alcudia boat trips to Coll Baix now offer the only practical route for most travelers, with departures running daily from the town's northern marina between May and October. The coastline between Alcudia Bay and Cap de Formentor forms part of the Serra de Tramuntana, a UNESCO-listed mountain range that plunges into water deep enough for large vessels to approach within 50 metres of shore. Chartered cruises typically follow the 12-kilometre route north from Alcudia port, passing the abandoned watchtower at Talaia d'Alcúdia — built in 1567 to spot Ottoman raiding parties — before rounding Punta de la Galera and entering the protected waters of Coll Baix. The seabed here drops to 40 metres within 100 metres of the beach, creating the gradient of blues that travel photography has made synonymous with the Balearic coast: pale aquamarine over sand, cobalt where posidonia seagrass carpets the shelf, indigo in the channels where grouper and octopus shelter. Most north coast sailing charters allocate 60 to 90 minutes at Coll Baix for swimming and snorkeling, with some itineraries extending to adjacent coves — Cala Figuera, Cala Murta, or the twin inlets of Cala en Gossalba — where pine forests descend to the waterline and afternoon shade arrives early. Catamaran operators favor morning departures to exploit the thermal winds that funnel through the Formentor saddle, while motorized cruises often pair Coll Baix with the sea caves at Cova dels Coloms, accessible only by tender. The beach itself holds no facilities: no shade structures, no freshwater, no lifeguard stations. What it does hold is 400 million years of sedimentary geology, visible in the folded strata of the eastern headland, and a silence broken only by the hiss of waves sorting stones.