This bach is brand new but the same family has left footprints in the sand for five generations.
There are more memories to be made in this new build that replaces a long-held family bach lost to fire
Rob McKenzie’s grandchildren are too young to grasp the significance of the hours they spend at his Ngaio Bay bach. But when Rob sees them pottering about on the beach and notices their tiny footprints are still there the following day, he delights in knowing they’ll be the fifth generation of his family to holiday here.
“It’s pretty special, having watched my own kids and now their children doing all the stuff I did here when I was a kid,” says Rob. “They’re a bit young yet to go fishing and water-skiing, but they will.”
Their visits, particularly this year, feel like a “refresh” of a family tradition, Rob says, because his recently built bach replaces his grandparents’ holiday home that burned down two years ago.
There’s nothing left of the old house that served as the family getaway for generations, but Rob has gone to great lengths to reproduce its early 1900s timber ceilings in the new bach.
“I remember looking up at those ceilings when I was a boy,” he says. “I think I knew even then that they were different and a bit special. They’re one of my favourite childhood memories.” >
Himalayan cedars growing at the back of the Ngaio Bay property were felled, milled and richly fed with natural oils. What wasn’t used in the new ceiling became exterior batons and bargeboards, and other lengths feature as decorative vertical fins inside and outside the bach.
Rob and his partner of four years Olga Konopelko have been making the drive from Nelson to Ngaio Bay almost every weekend this year to decorate the bach’s interior and develop a garden and outdoor dining area. For Olga, this spectacular seaside spot, complete with its own island just off shore, is vastly different to her own childhood in landlocked Belarus.
One of Rob’s sons, Stuart, is a regular visitor to Ngaio Bay with his wife Lisa and their three children, Connor, five, Clio, three, and one-year-old Alistair.
“This is a very special place for me and a big reason I moved back to Nelson four years ago,” says Stuart. “I spent several years in Japan and six in Christchurch. I want our children to experience the outdoor life I had at Ngaio Bay and to come here as a family at Christmas-time. Boating and fishing, water-skiing, playing in the creek and digging holes – those are all really great memories.” >
The creek is an inlet at one end of the beach, protected by towering native bush and with an atmosphere that is often still and tranquil. Says Rob: “I think every child of every generation of our family has dammed the creek. I’d come whitebaiting here with my grandmother.”
Rob’s father Scobie McKenzie was often keen to get his young son out water-skiing before the perpetual morning winds would gather momentum in the bay. “Dad used to wake me by putting a cold, wet facecloth on my face.”
Stuart also remembers those early wake-ups, but his father usually chose a kinder method to rouse him and his older brother Lachlan, such as turning up the volume on the radio.
Lachlan and his partner Silje live in Norway, visiting Ngaio Bay every couple of years with children Oscar, seven, and Elsa, three.
The drive to the bay, which is nestled between Kaiteriteri and Marahau, is barely an hour from Nelson and the last kilometre is a picturesque descent of a tree-lined private gravel road, shared with just seven other holiday baches.
In 1941, for the grand sum of £930, Rob’s grandfather Harold Robertson and his business partner BB Jones bought almost 50ha of beachfront land here.
“It had been operating as a horticultural farm for hops, tobacco and watermelons. The watermelons were taken by coastal scow across Tasman Bay to Kirkpatrick’s Jam Factory in Nelson,” Rob explains. “One of the scows, called Gannet, wrecked in this bay