Golden Bay’s hidden coastal gem
Sheltered by its inland ranges and brushed by the warm current of the Tasman Convergence, Kahurangi’s coast thrives in a subtropical microclimate all of its own, great for nikau.
One of my favourite stretches is the 8km of kaarst limestone bristling with luxuriant nikau which runs southwest from the South Head of Westhaven/ Whanganui Inlet. It encompasses the nikau forest and towering limestone formations around Turtle Beach, continuing through Te Hapu all the way along the superlative coastal platforms to Gilberts Beach (Wairaki or Sandy Bay on some maps) and beyond to Patarau.
Oral history tells of an early waitaha greenstone trail used to get over Te Hapu Ridge. The name, meaning ‘‘sub-tribe’’, refers to the extended whanau or hapu group which used to live along here.
European farming history began at Te Hapu in 1921, when Bill Addison and William Alridge purchased the newly subdivided farm from Taitapu Gold Estates. Right next door, the also newly subdivided ‘‘Heads block’’ was sold to James Flowers and Walter John Shaw.
The first rough track got pushed up to Te Hapu Ridge around 1922, effectively opening up the area. Today, the road branches off the Dry Road 1km before the tiny settlement of Mangarakau. The ‘‘No Access to Beach’’ sign denotes that this road provides access to just two freehold farms, Te Hapu and South Head stations.
Both farms now get a substantial part of their income from tourism, sharing their unique pieces of coast with small numbers of visitors.
In Te Hapu’s case, Andrea and Alex Closs rent out the farm’s three cottages, while at South Head the Stompe family offer luxury lodge accommodation (plus one cottage) as Westhaven Retreat. It’s low-key in terms of numbers.
A half-hour walkway to Turtle Beach (named after a huge leatherback turtle which washed up dead here in the 1950s) is one of half a dozen tracks off their 4km access road to South Head put in by the hardworking Stompes. This one cuts down through a dramatic gap in the limestone ramparts before veering through the second-largest nikau forest in the country, after the Heaphy River coast.
The dense swathe just before Turtle Beach is notable, though, on two accounts – its utter lushness growing amongst the eroding limestone, and the obvious longevity of some of the towering palms.
Everyone appreciates that the unbranched trunk of the nikau (Rhopalostylis sapida) is covered with distinctive rings which are the scars of shed fronds. But the popular belief that just counting the rings gives the tree’s age is not quite right.
It takes roughly 25 years for the tree to form its shiny green bole before it sheds a frond every nine months to three years, depending on growing conditions. Botanists think a year to 18 months is more average for a ring. Any way you calculate them, many of the nikau out here are many centuries old.
Rising up from the sea coast here just before Turtle Beach is the soaring limestone monolith of Camel Rock. A scurry up to a ‘‘window seat’’ eroded through the rock provides a spectacular keyhole view on a seascape that goes on forever. Some days it’s steely blue and sullen, the next it’s galloping breakers that stretch all the way to the horizon.
Turtle Bay is the beginning of the 4km of expansive low-tide platforms that stretch south all the way through Te Hapu past the landmark of Shark Head and beyond.
A whole day can be spent along here, exploring the low tide shelf with its rockpools, caves, and seven different beaches – from cosy coves like Te Hapu Beach to expanses of deserted sand like Gilberts Beach, which has attracted the likes of the odd helisurfer for its cool breaks.
In places, the coast resembles the Pancake Rocks at Punakaiki – horizontal sheets of limestone and mudstone chiselled by rain and sea into curious stacks, ridges and chasms.
The limestone-studded mountain hinterland here rises up to the ‘‘Dolphs’’, as the Closses call the upper reaches of their 400ha farm. The name remembers Adolf Flowers, who was foreman of the gang that cleared the bush along here in the 1930s. This fascinating country with spectacular views over all the coast below is interlaced with tracks which incorporate a labyrinth of limestone and caves, even a descent down a ladder, plus strategically placed seats.
Watching the sun sinking into the Tasman, or a moonrise, is a memorable experience for many who come out here these days.
In 1939, brothers Tom and Silas Cowin purchased Te Hapu and later added the ‘‘Heads block’’. It is said they spent the first few years wielding hand-held rock drills and explosives, blowing up rock to fill the sinkholes that would consume their flocks.
Silas and Tom became defined by their diet of mutton and spuds along with their notorious home brew.
Tom never owned a dog, most unusual for a hill country farmer. But he was a great runner and could throw rocks strategically around mobs of sheep, earning him the nickname the ‘‘limestone musterer’’.
The Cowins sold in 1960 to the Wilson family from Otago. Onearmed Joe Wilson and his wife had endless energy, putting in a huge garden, revamping all the fencing, and even putting in a small bowling alley in their farmhouse.
Current owners Ken and Sandra bought the property in 1980. Today, they take a sustainable approach.
A note in the Te Hapu cottage book invites guests to have a feed of paua while they are staying, but adds: ‘‘We won’t be too impressed if you take any home for your freezer.’’ It’s a good example of local owners becoming guardians of their land and sections of coast is a truly sustainable way.
Tourism could never suddenly boom out here – the access road up to Te Hapu is too steep, narrow and winding for a start. Low-key suits out here. And long may we too be able to offer both overseas tourists and Kiwis alike truly authentic New Zealand experiences.