Casino that never sleeps sure bet

A young Asian man seated at a blackjack table drains his beer and flicks $1000 of chips on the table.

The croupier deals a hand and the big spender loses. He shows no sign that this ruffles him - his miniature cityscape of $25 chips has been only slightly reduced.

It is 5 am on a Wednesday and the Sky City Casino is doing brisk business.

There are more than 200 people around the 98 gaming tables and 1417 poker machines. About 90 per cent of those on the tables are Asian. A similar percentage on the pokies are Pacific Islanders.

The Weekend Herald spent several hours at the casino at different times of the day to sample the atmosphere at the flagship of a company which this year announced a record $70 million profit.

During the wee hours, there is an interesting mix of gamblers.

A young Indian woman has been seated at the pokies since at least 11 o'clock the night before. Six hours on, she shows no sign of losing her enthusiasm.

But she runs out of money and has to make a dash for an in-house ATM machine. She walks briskly back to her seat, almost breaking into a jog, to avoid every pokie addict's worst fear - that the next person to put a coin in the machine will hit the jackpot.

Those on the pokies have no discernible facial expressions. People on the tables are slightly more animated and are kept lubricated by circulating drinks trolleys.

A cafe serves burgers, crumbed chicken schnitzel and hot beef sandwiches.

Down in the multilayered underground carpark, a middle-aged Pakeha man who has been here since 8 the night before cannot remember where he parked his car.

Back on the gaming floor, a group of young Asian men are playing the Chinese domino and dice game, Pai Gow. Some lose $800 a pop.

Later in the morning, at 9.30, a group of about 100 elderly women from the Papatoetoe Probus Club file two-abreast into the casino. They have a busy schedule that includes a buffet lunch and gambling lessons.

At a blackjack school, one club member is reluctant to lay down a chip she has been given, despite assurances that it is "just pretend".

At the giant raffle wheel, a gaming supervisor explains to a rapt audience that if anyone tries to steal the $36,000 of chips in the cabinet in front of her, a computer will record it.

By midday, the casino is packed and abuzz with the "ka-ching" of hundreds of pokie machines, the whirr of roulette wheels, and the occasional shout of a winner. The casino never stops.