Ghost Camping in Australia – Is It Getting Out of Hand?
Is ghost camping a problem where you are?
It’s starting to become one here in my hometown of Cohuna—or Kayuna, if you’re a local. We're a small rural agricultural town in northern Victoria, surrounded by dairy farms and bushland. Our town’s phone reception is so average that we don’t need a calendar to know when there’s a public holiday—the mobile networks crash under the weight of weekenders rolling into town.
And we love that. Really, we do.
Cohuna sits on the beautiful Gunbower Creek, which wraps around the largest inland island in the Southern Hemisphere. It’s a magnet for campers, especially during long weekends and school holidays. Every time there’s a public holiday, the town fills up. Visitors bring their boats, their vans, their tents—and their dollars. It’s great for the economy, and we locals genuinely love seeing others enjoy what we’ve got here.
But lately, we’ve had an issue creeping in. Ghost camping.
What Is Ghost Camping?
I saw the term on the news recently and thought, “Hang on—I’ve seen this happening for ages!” I just didn’t know what to call it.
Turns out, ghost camping comes in three different forms:
1. Booked But No-Show
This is where people book a paid campsite in a national park or a caravan park but don’t turn up. That spot sits empty for the whole weekend while others miss out.
I reckon most people get this one—plans change, people get sick. It happens. No big deal… unless it keeps happening, or people book multiple sites just in case. Then it starts becoming a problem.
2. Booking Out Entire Sites to Camp Alone
Let’s say there are 10 campsites. One group books all of them, just to ensure they don’t have to camp near anyone else—even though they only use one or two sites.
That’s just being a bit of a flog, if we’re honest. Camping’s about sharing the bush, not fencing it off like a private resort.
3. The Real Ghosts – Free Camping Reservation Squatters
This is the one we're seeing a lot around here—and it's the one that really gets under people’s skin.
Here’s how it works: Someone comes out days before the public holiday, sets up a caravan or tent in the best spot by the creek or the river, maybe chucks a tarp over a table—and then leaves. They're not camping. They're reserving. They might not come back until Friday night or Saturday, but for everyone else, that spot’s taken.
I’ve even seen setups where people rope off areas that could fit eight or ten campsites—and there’s not a soul around. It’s like they’ve booked it with nothing but a roll of tape.
It’s Like a Jack Brew, But for the Bush
In the Army, we had a term for people who didn’t look after their mates: “Jack.”
If you made yourself a coffee and didn’t offer to make one for the team, that was a Jack brew. If you slacked off while everyone else was digging in, you were going Jack on your mates.
Ghost camping is going Jack on the entire camping community.
There’s a term I hate—“That’s un-Australian”—but if anything fits, this comes close.
Is It a Problem Where You Camp?
I get that people want good spots. I get wanting a bit of privacy. But this behaviour locks others out—often locals who don’t have time to set up camp on Wednesday for a Saturday stay.
Now, I’ve got a small setup. I can usually find a quiet spot away from the big caravans and groups. So personally? I don’t get too fussed. But if you camp with mates or in a group, I bet you’ve seen this exact thing happen—and it’s bloody frustrating.
Queensland’s Crackdown on Ghost Camping
Queensland’s actually taken the lead on this. They’ve introduced fines ranging from $320 to $3,200 for ghost camping behaviour.
I’m not sure how they prove it—or enforce it—but it’s the first state to tackle it. Forestry and park rangers are the ones left to police it, which isn’t ideal. They’ve already got their hands full.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Victoria follows suit soon. Especially with the Premier announcing free camping in national parks this summer—it’s great PR, but what’s coming next?
So What Do You Think?
Have you rocked up to your favourite spot only to find a van parked there, but no one around for days?
Have you seen someone tape off an entire creekfront?
How do you deal with ghost camping where you are?
I’ve seen online discussions where people say if there’s no one around and nothing of value is left behind, they just move in and set up. Not condoning it—but it raises the question: If no one’s there, is it really theirs?
Final Thoughts
Ghost camping is a selfish practice. Simple as that. It’s not about using a campsite—it’s about hoarding one. And in busy times like Easter or the Melbourne Cup long weekend, that affects a lot of people trying to enjoy the same space.
So if you’re out camping this year—be a good egg. Share the bush. Don’t be a ghost.
Let me know what’s happening in your neck of the woods. Is ghost camping a thing where you live? Would you support fines? Or is it all being blown out of proportion?