Whitianga

Mercury Bay was settled long before Europeans arrived, and Māori tradition ties the harbour to the navigator Kupe: the town's original name, Te Whitianga o Kupe, means Kupe's crossing place. Ngāti Hei hold the mana whenua of the bay, and the headlands around the harbour entrance carry pā sites, terraces and middens that show centuries of occupation of a place rich in fish, shellfish and sheltered water.

In November 1769 James Cook anchored in the bay in the Endeavour and his astronomer observed the transit of the planet Mercury from the shore near today's Cooks Beach — the event that gave the bay its European name. The crew met local Māori, traded, and explored the harbour and the nearby river.

The 19th century brought extraction. Kauri timber was cut from the hills behind the bay and rafted or shipped from the harbour, which became a busy timber port with mills and shipyards; gum diggers worked the old forest floors for kauri resin; and gold mining drew people to other parts of the peninsula. The Royal Navy store ship Buffalo was wrecked off the beach in 1840, leaving its name on the town's shore. When the kauri ran out, fishing, farming and small-boat building kept the town going. From the 1960s onwards its future became holidays: baches spread along the beaches, the marina and canal housing followed, and tourism built around Cathedral Cove and Hot Water Beach turned Whitianga into the largest town on the peninsula's east coast, second in size on the peninsula only to Thames.

Whitianga's culture is coastal and seasonal. Boats are central — fishing, diving, sailing and game fishing out of the harbour — and much of the social life runs through clubs: the game fishing club, the sailing and boating clubs, surf lifesaving, and the sports grounds. The Mercury Bay identity is separate in local eyes from the western side of the peninsula, with its own school, newspaper and rivalries.

The town has two populations. Permanent residents, many of them retired or working in trades, hospitality and marine services, keep it running all year; holiday-home owners from Auckland and the Waikato arrive for summer and long weekends, multiplying the numbers and filling the boat ramps. The relationship is generally good-humoured but the pressures — house prices, water supply, traffic on a two-lane road in — are a constant local subject.

Ngāti Hei maintain their presence in the bay through the marae, treaty settlement processes and the management of the coast and its fisheries, and place names throughout the district are Māori. The Coromandel's wider counterculture of potters, artists, growers and alternative lifestylers, which dates from the 1970s, reaches Whitianga in the form of galleries, craft markets and a strong local interest in conservation, especially of kauri and of the marine reserve.

About 6,100 people live in Whitianga through the year, in a district of roughly 32,000 spread along both coasts of the peninsula. In the Christmas and January holidays the town's numbers swell several times over, which is the single most important fact about daily life here: everything from the supermarket to the water supply is sized for a season rather than a steady population.

Work comes from construction and trades, marine services and the marina, hospitality and tourism, aquaculture and fishing, retail, and care for an older than average population. Many households combine several of these, and winter underemployment is normal. A significant share of the housing stock stands empty for much of the year, which keeps prices high relative to local wages and makes accommodation for seasonal staff difficult.

The rhythm is early and outdoor: boats leaving on the tide, tradesmen at work by seven, the beach and the esplanade busy in the evening. Anything major — hospital care, big shopping, further education — means a drive to Thames, Hamilton or Auckland. Local concerns include storm damage and coastal erosion, which have closed roads and tracks on the peninsula in recent years, the state of kauri forests, water restrictions in dry summers, and how many visitors the coves and beaches can carry.

Seafood defines eating here. Snapper is the emblematic fish of the bay, with tarakihi, kahawai, gurnard and kingfish alongside it, and the shops by the wharf turn them into fish and chips. Green-lipped mussels, a species endemic to New Zealand and farmed in sheltered coastal waters, and Pacific oysters are sold fresh, smoked or cooked simply, and crayfish and pāua, the local abalone, appear when divers have had a good day. Coromandel scallops have a strong reputation, and the town holds an annual scallop festival in September.

The rest is New Zealand café and pub cooking: brunch with eggs and coffee, bakery pies and filled rolls, wood-fired pizza, pub steak and roasts, and ice cream on the esplanade. Whitianga is close enough to the Bay of Plenty for kiwifruit and avocados to be cheap and plentiful, and the Coromandel's small growers supply lemons, feijoas, honey, olive oil and jams to markets and honesty boxes on the roadside.

Māori food traditions remain part of the district: hāngī for gatherings, kaimoana gathered under customary rules from the rocks and beaches, and smoked fish put up at home. Gathering is regulated, with size and quantity limits and occasional rāhui, and shellfish can be closed by biotoxin warnings, so notices at the beaches are worth reading.