Fingal Head

1 active listings · Updated 06/11/2026

Negotiation Openness Score

Seller Holds FirmStrong Buyer Leverage

0.0 / 10

7

Median Days on Market

7

75th Percentile DOM

0%

Stale (>60 days)

1

Active Listings

7

Median DOM to Delist

7

75th %ile DOM to Delist

1

Recent Delistings

0

Agency Switches

Price Signals

0

Properties with Price Drop

0.0%

Avg Price Drop

∞

Weeks of Inventory

At a glance

A local’s honest, funny take on what it’s really like to live in Fingal Head.

We wake before the rest of the Tweed does and stand on Booningbah watching the sun turn the headland into something dramatic enough to deserve a tourism brochure. Back in the day the guidebooks were obsessed: Broadsheet pointed hunters of solitude to Kerosene Inlet — the narrow spit where Letitia Spit meets the Tweed River estuary — “secluded” was their polite word for “bring your own peace and a long sleeve.” Urban List used to send people up to the Fingal Head Lookout for whale watching and called our beaches “beautiful untouched.” We’ll let them keep the modesty.

Weekend routine: a sunrise at Booningbah (yes, you’ll probably spot dolphins), a wander down the Fingal Tiny Lighthouse Walk on Lighthouse Pde (don’t forget Urban List’s gem of a warning: depending on the tide the white tower can be on Fingal Head or Fingal Point — the ultimate photobomb), then past the spot where Fingal Holiday Park — listed in camping round-ups at 9 Prince St — used to promise you’d fall asleep to crashing waves. Those lists made us sound like an outdoorsy postcard, and honestly, we don’t mind.

We’re proud and we’re small. Saltwater Day is our annual reminder: arts and crafts, BBQs, surfing, elders sharing stories — The Family Centre noted over 100 people joining once, and its annual report later recorded gatherings of over 300 at Booninybah. Community is the thing that actually sticks to the rocks here.

Who would hate it? If the idea of waking for sunrise at Booningbah, being out there with whales from the lookout, or the lighthouse sometimes playing hide-and-seek with the tide makes you twitch, Fingal Head will test your patience. If you despise the sound of waves and the sight of dolphins, move inland. Simple.

Who would love it? People who want a place the guidebooks keep whispering about: quiet swims in Kerosene Inlet, whale and dolphin sightings from the lookout, camping to the sound of surf, and proud locals who will tell you Budjerah — yes, the Bundjalung kid we all celebrate — came from here. We’re small, salty and unpretentious. Come for the lighthouse, stay for the sunrise, and don’t expect us to apologise for being lovely.

Generated from local research data — affectionate satire, not financial advice.