HOT WATER BEACH
A family tradition
It was 1937 and Stewart Matthews was 31⁄2 when he saw Hot Water Beach for the first time. Needless to say, it made quite an impression – not only does he remember the moment 81 years on, but Matthews has holidayed there almost every summer since, and expects his family to continue the tradition for generations to come.
It’s far more than that first sighting of the beach that stays with him – Matthews has many rich memories of decades spent holidaying and adventuring at the Coromandel beach, where you can famously dig your own hot pool in the sand.
Back in 1937, when Matthews’ father Jim was intrigued to learn of a place called Hot Water Beach, not many knew of it.
‘‘In those early days, not many people at all knew about the Coromandel Peninsula,’’ Matthews says.
‘‘But the fact there was a place called Hot Water Beach was music to my dad’s ears and he thought he would give it a go. I don’t think he had any idea how hard it would be to get there.’’
Then, the drive from Auckland to Hot Water Beach was an all-day affair. The sealed road gave way to gravel at the Bombay Hills and was so winding and precipitous over the Tapu Hills that Stewart’s mother could often be heard trying to stifle screams.
Packed into the back of the family truck behind the food and camping gear, Stewart and his two older siblings were so covered in dust when they arrived at what his parents had dubbed ‘‘That Godforsaken Place’’ that they were ‘‘almost unrecognisable’’.
The pioneering nature of that first trip continued on arrival, with Jim Matthews knocking on the door of a local farmhouse to ask if the family could camp on their land.
Stewart recounted in his selfpublished book, It Started in 1937: Wow Hot Water Beach, that, despite it being about 10pm, they received a ‘‘warm welcome’’ from farmers Charles and Jenny Pye, who directed them to a spot beside a stream in a cow paddock where Jim set up a makeshift camp in the dark.
And as Stewart Matthews recalls: ‘‘Early the next morning the whole family made a beeline for the top of the rise between our camp and the seashore and wow, the thrill and perhaps the disbelief of seeing the beauty of this beach for the first time produced all sorts of reactions... I think it is fair to say that even today, the first sight of the beach on arrival is pretty exciting.’’
So began what has become a cherished tradition for the Matthews and their extended family. Aside from the years of World War II and immediately after, the family has returned almost every summer since.
‘‘In those early days, not many people at all knew about the Coromandel Peninsula.’’
For many years they camped, in surprisingly extravagant style. Jim Matthews made sure his family was comfortable, managing to squeeze a double bed, two Primus cookers and a dining table inside the tent.
A master tradesman with grand designs, Jim’s camp set-up was so elaborate it became known as the Whenuakite Town Hall.
Supported by a kauri centre pole, a 5.4 square metre ex-army tent housed the marital bed, a large dining table complete with stools and chairs, an army chest to store clothes and a pine kitchen unit incorporating a four-burner stove and pantry.
Outside were a separate tent for his sister Laurel, a safe hoisted high in the branches of a pohutukawa to keep perishables away from flies, a long drop and the stream which supplied them with fresh drinking water and served as a serviceable fridge for milk, butter and beer.
Matthews says they were the sole holidaymakers at Hot Water
Beach until 1947, when other friends of the Pye family decided to set up camp in what became known as Happy Valley.
The family’s holiday routine was one of heading to the beach at 7am for a swim before returning to camp where Jim would give them ‘‘one over the top’’ with a bucket of cold water. A breakfast of Weetbix and bacon and eggs from the farm would follow, usually complemented by fresh paua and toast.
Christmas Day was spent at an idyllic bay just south of Hot Water Beach which the British had set up as a radar surveillance station. Matthews doesn’t recall ever seeing any other visitors at the bay, where they would have lunch under the trees, explore the remains of the radar station, swim, hunt for paua and soak up the serenity.
He regrets that the beach is now off-limits to the public as you must pass through private land to get there.
Fishing has remained a popular pastime for the family and, in the fifties, Stewart says they ‘‘never returned from a two- to three-hour trip with less than three large coal sacks chock-a-block full of a variety of the classics: snapper, tarakihi, hapuka, blue cod, gurnard and John Dory.’’
Sharks, sometimes more than 2 metres long, would regularly bring their fishing trips to a halt and the boys couldn’t resist trying to hook one. Dicing with danger, and even death, was all part of the fun – Stewart recalls one occasion when a 1.5m-long shark his dad had yanked onto their boat ‘‘snapped a chunk out of the backside of his shorts’’.
On another, Stewart volunteered to place the bait for a large mako shark they’d spotted cruising alongside the beach by paddling out on a small polystyrene paddle board.
‘‘I swam out and dropped the bait (a large snapper head) behind the breaking surf. I then headed in as fast as I could go.’’ They hadn’t realised how fast a shark swims when chasing prey and, by the time Stewart made it back to the beach, the mako had taken the bait and was already ashore, meaning it had swum right past him.
‘‘Campers had helped dad pull in the 2m-long monster. Good fun but probably not that smart in hindsight.’’
Matthews and his wife Allison secured their own slice of Hot Water Beach paradise in the late sixties, when part of the Pye farm was subdivided. They reckon they got the best lot – right on the water – for $1480.
After securing their own section, Stewart and Allison transported an old weatherboard wash-house they’d sourced from a friend, transforming it into their ‘‘holiday headquarters’’.
Once a sealed road had been built to the beach, the couple decided to build a permanent holiday home and took the task upon themselves, with the help of family, friends and neighbours.
‘‘The house was a simple rectangle and I was the architect and building contractor,’’ Stewart says.
‘‘It was very basic really. The building was unlined inside for some years and didn’t have electricity. But we’ve added to it and upgraded it over the years as we could afford it.’’
These additions include a ‘‘swimming pool’’ made by blasting through rocks on the beach with explosives.
While Matthews sometimes laments that Hot Water Beach has become such a major tourism destination, attracting hundreds of visitors on hot summer days, the family spends its time there much as it always has: fishing, eeling, swimming at the beach and in the freshwater lagoon, enjoying the lesser known natural hot springs upstream and getting caught up in the the kinds of adventures one tends to along untamed stretches of the New Zealand coastline.
‘‘One big reward, having devoted so much time and resource to this resort, is that it helped develop the character and personalities of [his children] Bronwyn, Ruth, Colleen and James and their offspring… They will continue to do the same for their families and the extended family,’’ he says.
In 2001, he and his wife bought a nearby property for $451,000, onselling it to daughter Bronwyn and her husband Paul. They knew they’d got a good deal on the section but were nonetheless surprised when an American tourist offered them $2 million for it just two months later.
Bronwyn and Paul are now building a new house on their property, meaning there’s more demand than usual among family members for Stewart and Allison’s place.
‘‘Now there’s only the one house we have to share it but we quite enjoy it. In fact it gives us a thrill to see them enjoying it,’’ Matthews says.
He says his children, grandchildren and in-laws are as enamoured with Hot Water Beach as he and Allison are.
‘‘As a consequence [of the growth in tourists] they’ve upgraded the toilets to something quite respectable. But otherwise it’s much the same,’’ he says.
‘‘It’s a magic place to be, whatever your age.’’
‘‘One big reward, having devoted so much time and resource to this resort, is that it helped develop the character and personalities of [his children] … They will continue to do the same for their families and the extended family.’’