Castles in the Sand: what’s happening to the New Zealand coast? by Raewyn Peart

Craig Potton Publishing, 276 pp. $50. Reviewed by SIMON NATHAN

My father was a land developer, responsible for some of the earliest coastal subdivisions on the Kapiti coast in the 1920s and 1930s. Before he died in 1953 he was becoming disturbed at the way development was changing the nature of the small beach community at Paraparaumu beach. Half a century later he would hardly recognise the densely settled urban area he helped create.

In this well illustrated book, Raewyn Peart has documented how New Zealanders have used and modified the coastline, and the problems this has caused. Published by Craig Potton Publishing in association with the Environmental Defence Society, it is a readable and thought-provoking book that raises questions about whether some wild and beautiful coastal areas should be off-limits for development, and whether local communities can maintain the nature of the environment they live in against the pressures of commercial developers.

Nowhere in New Zealand is far from the coast. To Maori, the beach was both a pathway and a place to gather kai moana. Early European settlements developed around ports, and nearby flat coastal land was the first to be used for farming. Today most New Zealanders identify with the beach as a place of recreation. There was little conflict between different users when the population was low, but with increasing population and affluence since World War 2 problems have developed. Recent arguments about the ownership of the foreshore and seabed are just one aspect of the ongoing debates about who controls the coastline.

The first six chapters of this book are a background survey, covering the physical setting, early human impact, and coastal culture. All interesting stuff, but readers concerned with current coastal issues may prefer to skim that section, and start at Chapter 7, the Property Market. I was conscious that there had been surges in coastal property development after World War 2 and in the 1990s, but it was startled to realise the extent of the second property boom, with associated rise in land values. For example, the number of holiday homes in New Zealand has almost tripled since 1990, while the average price of homes on the Coromandel Peninsula has quadrupled.

“Coastal property investment and speculation have contributed to the high process and levels of subdivision undertaken. But the underlying pressure on the coast has been from a growing population – particularly in the age groups where people are most likely to desire and be able to afford coastal property, growing affluence and a shift in values towards higher quality lifestyles.

New Zealand’s coasts are being developed by a wide variety of people, many of whom have created considerable wealth out of this development. There is also a small coterie of returning New Zealanders who are looking to coastal development as a way of using their business acumen to make a healthy financial return, while at the same time contributing to the ecological restoration of the coast.”

The following chapters are illustrated with a series of case studies of different developments. They are predominantly from the Auckland region, but include well known beach settlements further south such as Kaiteriteri, where recent developments at Little Kaiteriteri have resulted in one of the ugliest hillsides in the Nelson region.

The development of Omaha (where Prime Minister John Key has his holiday home) is a sorry story. The sand spit should never have been developed in the first place, and coastal erosion and sewage disposal have been continuing (and expensive) problems. At one stage the developers failed to include any space for commercial facilities, so residents had to drive for miles to get a paper or bottle of mile. In the latest stage, concerns of the local iwi, Ngatiwai, were ignored, resulting in the destruction of a large number of archaeological sites, with excavated material dumped in a pile over six metres high.

Every time I visit England, I’m struck by the efforts made to preserve rural and coastal landscapes. Mrs Thatcher may have been a strong advocate for the free market on economic issues, but there is a strong conservation tradition among British conservatives. In contrast, New Zealand seems to have adopted a more American view of freedom, where individual property rights are supreme. Chapters 12 and 13 document the historic and current attempts at the management of coastal development. It is a dismal story of political flip-flops and laissez-faire neglect. One of the few bright spots was the policy of the Auckland Regional Authority between 1963-73 of purchasing land for regional parks, which preserved substantial sections of coastline.

Development of the New Zealand Coastal Policy statement, released in 1994, was a chance to correct the problems that had become apparent in the preceding decade. Unfortunately the four years of debates that preceded release of the policy spanned a change in government as well as a change in thinking from land-use planning to an ecological view. With regard to holiday homes, the wording expressed high intentions:

“It is a national priority to preserve the natural character of the coastal environment by encouraging coastal subdivision, use or development in areas where the natural character has already been compromised and avoiding sprawling or sporadic subdivision, use or development in the coastal environment”

But in practice, the so-called national priority was completely ineffective, leading followed by the greatest decade of coastal land development in New Zealand’s history. Implementation of the policy was left to local councils who were given no training or guidance on how to proceed, and who were no match for the legal power that well-financed developers could command. Simon Upton, then Minister of Environment, took an ideological position that councils should not try to control the impact of new subdivisions, but only consider environment effects, which further undermined any attempts at controlling the development of coastal land.

In the final chapter, Looking to the future, Raewyn Peart takes a surprisingly optimistic view. She feels that the tide has turned, and that councils are now better organised and starting to learn from the mistakes of the 1990s (including some expensive financial liabilities they incurred. She argues that the elements of well designed ‘best practice’ coastal development can be identified by the answer to two questions:

• Should there be any development on the land at all? – and if the answer if yes:
• What density and type of building are appropriate, and where should they be located?

Finally, she puts the case for a national body that would take responsibility for future coastal development:

“One way to do this would be to establish an independent body to protect the public interest in the coast – a New Zealand Coastal Commission – overseen by a group of commissioners who have high public standing, and staffed by a group of skilled coastal planners and scientists.

This commission could have a number of regulatory functions. It could be responsible for identifying those areas of the coast which should be ‘no go’ for urban development in the long term – a network of ‘Heritage Coasts’ which would then be placed under stronger management to create a legacy for future generations.”

At the moment the National-led government is reviewing the Resource Management Act. Like the author, I hope that they grasp the opportunity to provide a framework for the long-term management of coastal land.

There is one strange omission from this book. Although climate change and rising sea levels are discussed, there is virtually no mention of tsunami hazard to low-lying coastal land. Ideas on the impact of tsunamis on coastal areas have changed dramatically since the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami and the more recent Samoa tsunami. Scientists have demonstrated that catastrophic tsunamis have occurred around the New Zealand coast in the last few hundred years. Regional and District councils are gradually coming to terms with their responsibilities to protect public safety, and this may be the catalyst for restricting development of exposed coastal sites.

This is an important book for anyone interested in the New Zealand coast. It is beautifully illustrated – including many photographs taken by Craig Potton himself – thoroughly researched and easy to read. If you get the chance, ask your local politician if s/he has read it yet.

SIMON NATHAN is a Wellington-based geologist and writer. Recent work includes editing and contributing to The Amazing World of James Hector (Awa Press, 2008) as well as web articles, blog pieces and book reviews.