Nominations are now open to vote for New Zealand's best beach. Video / Molly Floyd
Playwright, writer and actor Elisabeth Easther found her own special place in Northland. But where’s your favourite beach in NZ? To find out how to nominate your favourite spots in the Herald’s Best Beach campaign, scroll to the bottom of the page.
About a quarter of a century ago, whenI was an actor, I had just finished a season of a play at Auckland’s Basement Theatre. I had also written and produced the play, and being a 20-something thespian, I was exhausted, as only a young thespian can be. So in order to recharge my creative batteries, I took a road trip with my co-star-slash-best friend.
On a bright winter’s morning, Sarah and I hit the road with no particular plan beyond knowing we were headed north. As a Hamilton girl, I’d spent my formative beach years in the Bay of Plenty, so Northland was like another country. A voyage of discovery.
At some stage my mother rang. Mobiles were still novel and it felt important when taking a call. So I flipped the Nokia open and pulled the aerial up with my teeth, talking as I drove, 90s-style.
Mum suggested we head for Mangōnui where she and Dad had spent a few nights of their honeymoon in 1965. On we pressed. Through sleepy Moerewa. We sailed past the freezing works where in the not too distant future I’d stop at the butcher shop to buy bones for my dog. A stately line of phoenix palms, like overgrown pineapples, lined the entrance to Simson Park. Once upon a time, this town had aspirations. We tackled one-lane bridges where we watched drivers lock bumpers, neither motorist conceding right of way until eventually, 294km later, we reached Mangōnui.
Mum was right. This harbourside hamlet was perfect for two resting actors, and being low season, the Mangōnui Waterfront Apartments had several vacancies and we were shown to an upstairs sea-view suite. This was before the days of pre-planning every breath of a break.
The following day it rained like the clappers as we explored the small town. Two crafty gift shops, a stationer, a pub, a Four Square and the famous fish and chip shop over the water. On a whim, I poked my nose in the window of the real estate agent where I saw a listing for a property in some place called Taupō Bay. Asking price just $65,000. It had an orchard, a basic cabin, a long drop, and was a short stroll from the actual ocean. With waves and snorkelling.
The real estate agent offered to take us out. I’d recently finished a two-year stint on Shortland Street which possibly gave me some cred, and I was soon to start working in radio. I was a woman of means. Sort of. Chatting away in the real estate agent’s car, the windshield wipers working overtime, we crested the hill for our first glimpse of Taupō Bay. Even on a grotty grey day, it took my breath away.
Long story short, I bought the cabin and obtained a rescue dog who loved the lifestyle as much as I did. I tried to surf on a dinged up old board with no leg rope. I lashed my kayak to the top of the Honda and took it everywhere. Paddling out as far as felt prudent, never more than 4 hours in any direction, as I knew I’d have to get back. To my shame I misjudged the weather a couple of times. I certainly never looked at a chart, I just paddled, so you can imagine my amazement when I discovered Whangaroa Harbour in all its primeval glory. Kingfisher Lodge was like a mirage, with foot-high letters on the roof spelling out Tattinger.
Taupō Bay was an unconventional place for a mid-20s woman to wash up but I loved it. The perfect curve of the cove. The waves, bush and birds. The peace. In summer friends would pile up and pitch tents all over the lawn, but most of the year it was just me, my dog and a landline with dial-up internet. More than enough.
One day I was walking with my dog on the beach when a strapping surfer emerged from the waves. He stopped to chat. We became friends. Over the years the surfer and I stayed in touch, our paths crossing over the years now and then. If it was not for that fateful road trip, and taking a preposterous peek at property, I never would have met that man.
Nor could I have guessed how that beach would alter the course of my life so significantly. I don’t have that little cabin by the sea any more, but I do have a son. He’s just turned 17 and all because of a chance encounter at some place called Taupō Bay.
Elisabeth Easther's son Theo at their bach in Northland's Taupō Bay. Photo / Supplied
Nominate New Zealand’s Best Beach
The Herald is searching for New Zealand’s Best Beach 2023 and we need your help.
The Best Beach series runs through January and it starts with you. We want you to nominate your favourite beaches from around the country in these five categories.
Best Family Beach
Best Surf Beach
Best City Beach
Best Camping Beach
Best Hidden Gem
You can nominate one contender in each category and tell us a little bit about why you think they deserve to win. You can also send us a favourite photo of you and your whānau enjoying these great summer spots.
Nominations are open until the end of Sunday, January 8. From there, your entries will be counted and the 10 most popular nominees in each of the five categories will be named as our finalists. You will then be able to vote for the ultimate winners in each category, which will be crowned at the end of the month. To find the form and read more Best Beach stories, go to nzherald.co.nz/bestbeach
