Baches belong, and no mistake

Christchurch, where do you take out-oftowners to show off the fact you live in paradise? For me, the top three spots in the whole place are: The Botanic Gardens, Rapaki and Taylors Mistake.

Of these three, Taylors has a special place in my hardened old heart. Sure, it’s where I take overseas visitors to walk to Godley Heads, but it’s also the spot where one summer afternoon – quite spontaneously – I stood in the surf and asked my girlfriend to be my wife.

After a lifetime of talking to Cantabrians, I know I’m not the only one who holds the bay close to my heart. There’s something magical about the place.

And like so many other locals, I’ve watched the drama of the ramshackle baches unfold over the past few decades.

The story goes something like: Back in the day when Captain Cook was still a hero, and boys hadn’t yet marched off to be slaughtered in the name of Empire, people built baches at Taylors Mistake, on public land but with consent from the council.

Water and electricity were connected and rates were paid.

You’d think that wouldn’t you?

But in the 1970s the tone of the council changed and it started working toward demolition of the baches.

Over the following decades, everyone squabbled over whether the baches should exist at all. Plans were made. Agreements were drafted. Little was done.

Now the council is again seeking to demolish the things and we find ourselves discussing an issue that refuses to just go away and die quietly.

Fset them up as being legit,

or what it’s worth I think the baches need to exist. How they exist can happen in all sorts of ways. But existing in their current location with their current use seems like a good bet to me.

Because they represent something. They represent a time in New Zealand’s past when working class people could have a holiday home. Nowadays it seems less likely that working class folks will be able to afford a family home, let alone a bach on the waterfront.

The challenge for the council is to come up with a mechanism whereby the current owners of the baches can continue to own, maintain and enjoy the structures, yet create a system whereby they aren’t so legitimate that they can be bought and sold like normal property.

I’m sure this is achievable if you get some clever property and legal people around a table and say ‘‘make it happen’’. Because I buy the argument that they are a special part of our history, but I don’t think they’re so legitimate that they need to be treated like any other structure on private land.

If you chuck ‘em on titles and call them investments, all that’ll happen is some tech billionaire will show up, buy the lot, and begin proceedings to exclude us – the great unwashed – from the slice of paradise he’s holding onto in case of global catastrophe.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed this happening but I think it’s bloody gross. But that’s a discussion for another day.

For today, the important thing is that these artefacts are preserved in their natural state or ramshackle glory. That the current owners and their children and grandchildren can continue to enjoy them.

The whole thing is silly as it sits at the moment. We need strong leadership to make tough decisions to ensure these cultural icons can continue to exist.

Because the story they tell is more engaging than anything this hack can string together.