Skip to content
TrackPodcasts
historyMar 17, 202618:49

Nudists and Sea Lions at Smaills Beach

pplpod

About this episode

Nudists and Sea Lions at Smaills Beach

Get every episode summarized

Each time pplpod publishes, we email you a written briefing from the transcript — the topics, who appeared, and any specific claims, with the ad reads skipped.

Email me new episodes

Free for 3 shows. No card needed.

Hosts & guests

Transcript ready

390 searchable segments. Every word is indexed and playable.

Nudists and Sea Lions at Smaills Beach

pplpod

0:00
18:49

Full transcript

pplpodNudists and Sea Lions at Smaills Beach. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.

You're listening to a podcast right now, driving, working out, walking the dog. If you're in a podcast, chances are you have something to say too. With RSS.com, starting your own podcast is free and easy. Upload an episode and we distribute it to Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music and more. Track your listeners, see where they're from, and start earning from ads just like this. If you've been thinking about starting a podcast, this is your sign. Or your new podcast for free today at RSS.com. Imagine in an 800 meter stretch of pristine white sand, where in just a single afternoon, you could be swept away by a rogue Pacific rip current. Or get into a literal turf war with a 300 pound sea lion. Right, exactly. Or even end up in a heated legal battle over a naked beach gore. Usually, when you think about epic geographical dramas or intense clashes between humanity and nature. Assume you need a massive Kansas to find them. Oh, for sure. Like a whole mountain range or a sprawling national park or, I don't know, deep historical

archives detailing continental conflicts. We definitely have a bias towards size. I mean, we tend to think complex stories require thousands of square miles to properly unfold. But today, we are going to prove you don't need a whole continent to find incredible humid and ecological drama. We're taking you on a journey through a single, seemingly unassuming Wikipedia article. Yeah. A specific spot. Exactly. Our source material today is entirely focused on a place called Smales Beach that's sometimes spelled Smales with 1L. It's located just 7.6 kilometer southeast of the city center of Dundin down in New Zealand. And you know, if you were just a casual observer pulling up your car on a sunny afternoon, you wouldn't think twice. It really just looks like a nice spot for a walk within the ocean grove reserve. But our mission for this deep dive is to show you how this one small pocket of the coast is actually a fascinating microcosm. It really is. Packed into this tiny, like, half-mile stretch of sand is a wild mix of untamed geographical

hazards and incredibly delicate ecological balance and some truly surprising modern social clashes. It serves as a perfect case study of how a physical space is forced to hold entirely different meanings and entirely different rules for everyone and everything that uses it. Definitely. When we finish this deep dive, you will never look at your local park or your local beach the same way again. You'll definitely see it differently. You are going to start seeing the invisible lines of history, of nature, and of human conflict that are constantly being drawn and redrawn in the sand right under your feet. Okay, let's unpack this. Yeah, let's ground you in the physical reality of the space first, just so you know exactly what it feels like to stand there. Smales Beach faces almost directly south, looking straight out into the teeth of the Pacific ocean. Pretty intense. Very intense. And it has this very stark dramatic visual contrast. You have this long sweeping stretch of bright white sand, but the western end of the beach is heavily armored by dark, jagged, volcanic boulders.

It paints a very rugged picture and it's bookended by these massive geological features that make it feel almost like an arena. Oh, absolutely. Like on the eastern side, the beach is bounded by Tomahawk Creek, which hugs the base of these towering cliffs. There's Moorie Head and beyond that Putniklif and Highclif, it is a highly vertical, imposing landscape. And then on the western edge, it's separated from the neighboring Tomahawk beach by Tomahawk Bluff. This is a promontory made entirely of black volcanic rock, completely punctuated by deep sea caves. Wow. Yeah, and perched right on top of that bluff is the Jack Fox lookout, which gives you an incredible vantage point for this sort of geographical magic trick. The tide, right? Yeah, because if you happen to be standing up there during a very low tide, the base of that volcanic promontory is completely exposed. The water recedes and smells beach and Tomahawk Beach suddenly merge. They just connect. Right. They effectively become one secret, continuous stretch of sand that only exists for a few

hours a day. But you know, the defining physical feature of smells beach, the thing that really dictates the kinetic rhythm of the entire area isn't actually on the beach itself. It's sitting just offshore, right? It's a rocky outcrop known as bird island. And bird island is the real troublemaker here, yeah, because it sits right in the path of the incoming deep water Pacific swells. That's the crucial mechanism to understand. When those massive uninterrupted ocean swells hit the shallow shelf and encounter bird island, the island doesn't just block the water. It kind of messes with the flow. Exactly. It forces the wave energy to refract or wrap around the rocks colliding on the other side. That creates a localized pile up of water that has to violently rush back out to sea to equalize the pressure. So it's fracturing the incoming energy into these incredibly complex, unpredictable patterns. If you think about it, bird island is basically acting like a giant geological mixing bowl. That's a great way to put it. It's just out there stirring the Pacific ocean into this chaotic, irresistible trap for

surfers. And that dynamic is exactly what makes the space so contradictory. The specific refraction around bird island creates these unique, highly sought after wave breaks that surfers just love. But that same churning water movement generates severe hitting rip current. And there are no lifeguards on duty. The sources explicitly urge the public not to surf or swim alone. Right. It's extremely dangerous. If you're standing on that white sand, the water probably looks pristine and inviting, just beneath the surface, it is actively trying to pull you away. Yeah. To highlight just how untamed the physics of this specific 800 meter stretch are, our sources note a terrifying incident from 2015. Oh, the surfer incident. Yes. A surfer was caught in one of these severe rip currents and swept completely out to sea. The outward pull of the water was so powerful and the ocean conditions so raw that it was noted he was lucky he didn't end up in South America. Wow. That is the level of unbridled kinetic energy we were talking about.

You really get the sense that the ocean is the absolute authority here. Look out a doubt. But it's not just surfer is getting caught in that kinetic trap. All that churning ocean upwelling acts like a massive dinner bell, pulling in some of the most territorial locals on the island right to the shore. Right. Because Smales Beach is a critical biological haven. It's a very dynamic landing zone for marine life. You'll frequently find yellow-eyed penguins and little blue penguins coming ashore. Which is amazing. It is. And perhaps most notably, you have the New Zealand sea lions. Plus, you've got this diverse coastal habitat for birds. There are oyster catchers, red-build goals, black-backed goals, and a whole community of invertebrates that thrive in the scrub-covered sand dunes rising up toward Tomahawk Road. Those dunes, however, are facing a serious environmental threat from wind erosion. And this is really where the human element starts to try and wrestle control back from nature. The Denudin City Council actually has an ongoing program to contour and re-vegetate the

dunesystem just to prevent it from completely blowing away. They actually have a memorandum of understanding with a local group called the Tomahawk Smales Beach Care Trust. Right. This group runs a plant nursery right there on site. They estimate they produce about 4,000 plants every single year just to manually re-vegetate that dunesystem. That's a huge effort. It really is. But how does planting a few bushes actually stop a beach from blowing away? Well, it comes down to altering the aerodynamic profile of landscape. When you hand plant native coastal species like a pingo or spine effects, their stems and leaves physically interrupt the airflow right at the surface. So they sort of catch the wind? Exactly. They force the wind to drop whatever sand it's carrying. And below the surface, their extensive utesystems form a dense matrix that locks the loose sand grains together. It is a massive, labor-intensive undertaking to engineer a natural wall. It's incredible. But as I was reading through these sources, I couldn't help but notice a massive contradiction and how humans are interacting with this environment.

Oh, how so? Well, on one hand, you have people painstakingly hand-planting, 4,000 plants a year, to carefully manage and protect the habitat. But on the other hand, the sources had to explicitly warn visitors to keep their distance from the wildlife for their own safety. Yeah. Right. Particularly the New Zealand sea lions. Yes. They specifically ask beachgoers to keep their dogs under control around the sea lions because aggressive interactions cause severe injuries. And I just have to ask, wait, if you know there are massive, highly aggressive sea lions hanging out on the beach, why on earth are people bringing their dogs off leash to bother them? It's a great question. And I think it reveals the fundamental tension of the modern reserve concept. Humans have designated this area as the ocean-grow reserve. To a lot of people, the word reserve translates simply to, you know, public recreational playground. Like an extension of their backyard. Precisely. It's just a place to let their dogs run free on a Sunday. But to a 300-pound sea lion, it's not a recreational park.

No, not at all. It is their living room. It's their fundamental necessary habitat. So you have a clash of definitions occurring in the exact same physical space. That makes a lot of sense. The human thinks the sea lion is an inconvenient obstacle in their playground while the sea lion thinks the dog is a hostile intruder in its home, and we actually see a parallel paradox with the dunes themselves. How do you mean? Well, we are desperately fighting natural wind erosion by hand-planting thousands of root systems, essentially trying to artificially freeze a landscape that naturally wants to shift and blow away. Oh, I see. We want a wild beach, but we want it to be a managed wild beach. Yeah. We want the aesthetic of the wild, but the predictability of a city park. Exactly. We want to curate the wilderness. And that attempt to curate and control space naturally spills over into how humans that smells beach interact with each other. Oh, absolutely. If you think the tension between humans and nature here is complicated, the social geography of this 800-meter strip is just as layered.

Because it has been a thoroughfare for a very long time. Long before European colonization, smells and tomhawk beaches weren't just spots for recreation. No. They were vital infrastructure. But they formed a critical part of a walking track for mowery traveling between Shaqou and Tomahawk Lagoon. That makes perfect sense when you consider the geography. If you're trying to navigate that rugged coastal terrain, the flat, packed sand of the beach at Lothide is basically your natural highway. Exactly. And the name Smales Beach itself comes from the human history that followed. It's named after the Smale family, who were central to the local farming community back in the 1870s and 1880s. Yeah. The original 19th century homestead actually still stands right near the beach. It's officially listed as a historic place category two by Heritage New Zealand. That designation is significant, right? It is. A category two rating means the building is considered to have historical or cultural heritage significance, which protects the structure, usually preserving the façade and the architectural integrity

from being demolished or radically altered. But the amazing part is what that preserved 19th century pioneer homestead is actually used for today. Oh, it's brilliant. It currently serves as the clubhouse for the Tutoku fishing club. It's just this wonderful, slightly ironic, repurposing of history. You have this protected pioneer architecture holding fishing gear in club meetings. It just goes to show that history is always being overwritten by current use. And current use is where the most intense friction is happening today. For sure. If we move just above the beach to the Tomahawk Road cart parks, we find a major social flashpoint. The local residents are locked into turf war with freedom campers. Yeah, they're treating these self-contained vans turning up for free overnight parking as a neighborhood crisis. The residents are pushing incredibly hard to have these campers completely banned from the area. The primary grievance they cite is sanitation. The residents state that because the campers are staying overnight, they are habitually defecating in the public reserve.

Which is awful. It is. And this is where the infrastructural debate gets fascinating. Because if the core problem is a lack of sanitation facilities, the obvious solution would be to simply build a public toilet in the car park to service the area. Right. But according to the sources, the idea of providing public toilets at the site was explicitly rejected. It was. They chose to pursue a total ban on the campers instead. And I just thought, wait, legally, if it's a public reserve, how can a local neighborhood just ban people who are legally parking their vehicles? Isn't that government- It's a very gray area. Making public toilets to stop campers feels like a city, removing all the park benches, just to stop people from taking an app. You're degrading the space for everyone just to win a turf war. Why reject the most obvious infrastructural fix? Because infrastructure is permission. By rejecting the toilets, the locals are sending a clear jurisdictional message. They are saying, we do not want to accommodate you. We want to exclude you. Oh, okay. The city builds a toilet.

It implicitly legitimizes the campers presence. It states that the car park is a valid place for them to stay. By pushing for a ban instead, the residents are trying to reclaim the definition of the space. They're drawing a line in the sand. Literally saying, this is our neighborhood, not a transient campsite. We aren't taking sides on whether the campers should be there or not. But it is a brilliant example of how communities negotiate public space through hostile architecture by omission, hostile architecture by omission. Like if we don't build it, you can't come. It's incredible how the absence of a building is used as a weapon. It really is. And this fight over what is socially acceptable in a wild public space leads us perfectly into the other major and arguably most surprising human conflict that smells beach. Right. Because smells beach is well known locally as a clothing optional beach. It is periodically used by natureists for nude bathing. Now to understand why this is a conflict and why it's so legally fascinating, you have

to understand a very specific loophole in New Zealand law. It's quite unique. New Zealand actually has no official government designated nude beaches. However, under the law, specifically stemming from a 1991 high court ruling, Ceramilus v. police, public nudity is perfectly legal on any beach where it is, quote, known to occur. Which is the most beautifully vague legal phrasing I've ever heard. If it's known to occur, it's fine. It creates a unique legal precedent based entirely on customer use. The court essentially ruled that if a specific area has a historical habit of naturest use, then a person being naked there is enacting offensively because the expectation of nudity already exists. And smells beach falls firmly under this protection. It does. Just imagine walking your dog on your local beach and realizing the law actually protects the naked sunbater you just call the cops on simply because they've always done it. Which happens a lot because that does not stop the friction. Even though it is completely legal and even though there is a high court precedent backing

them up, other beachgoers still regularly call the police on the visiting naturest. It is a literal battleground of social norms clashing with legal technicalities. You have one group relying on a 1991 high court ruling to protect their right to experience nature in the nude. Yeah. And you have another group relying on contemporary social discomfort to try and enforce a dress code via law enforcement, even when the law isn't actually on their side. The police must get so tired of driving out there like, yes, we know they're naked, yes, we know it smells beach. No, we can't arrest them. I'm sure they do. But the parallel between the naturest and the freedom campers is striking. Both are conflicts over the proper use of a shared space. They really are. The campers are told their behavior is unacceptable. And the community tries to ban them by withholding infrastructure. The naturest are told their behavior is unacceptable and the community tries to ban them by calling the authorities. It's just incredible. When you step back and look at it, this simple 800 meter strip of white sand and black

rock is carrying an unbelievable amount of weight. It really packs it in. You have the ancient history of the Maurei walking tracks using the shores of highway. You have the 19th century farming legacy sitting right there in the fishing club. You've got endangered penguins trying to nest. You've got massive aggressive sea lions fighting with off leash dogs. You have incredibly dangerous, geologically fueled rip currents trying to pull surfers out to South America. It's chaotic. You've got angry locals refusing to build toilets for freedom campers. And you have legally protected naked baiters getting the cops called on them, all contained in a half mile stretch of beach. It really redefines what a landscape actually is. And next time you step onto your local beach or take a walk through a nearby nature reserve, remember this deep dive. Keep it in mind. Remember that you aren't just stepping on a dirt sand or grass. You are stepping into an active, ongoing negotiation. Every inch of that space is contested. It is a constant tug of war between geographical history, ecological survival and societal norms.

So what does this all mean? Well, it means that landscapes are never just physical. They are deeply human. They are completely shaped by the people arguing over them. And that actually leaves us with a fascinating philosophical puzzle to mull over. Ooh, I love a puzzle. Think back to that 1991 high court ruling for the natureists. The law says that public nudity is legal only on beaches where it is already known to occur. Right. It relies entirely on historical precedent. But logically, if you follow that rule back to its absolute beginning, how does any behavior start being known to occur? Oh, wow. I didn't think of that. Right. If it's illegal to be naked on a beach where it isn't already a known practice, then whoever was the very first person to strip down on Smales Beach was technically breaking the law. They had to. They had to deliberately break the norm and risk the consequences in order to establish the precedent that now legally protects everyone else today. Oh, wow. You literally have to break the rule to create the rule. It's a geographical paradox. The rules of a wild space are defined by the people who occupy it, but you have to actively

occupy it sometimes defiantly in order to define those rules. It's incredible. So it leaves you wondering, are the wild spaces around us actually wild? Or are they just blank mirrors reflecting whichever human boldly decides to walk out and draw the very first invisible line in the sand? That is going to stay with me the next time I go to the coast. You think you're just looking for seashells, but you're actually walking through a courtroom a wildlife sanctuary and a historical battleground all at once. You really are. Thank you so much for joining us on this deep dive into the surprisingly intense world of Smales Beach. We hope we've given you a new way to look at the world right outside your door. Keep questioning the spaces around you and stay curious. You're listening to a podcast right now. Driving, working out, walking the dog. If you're into podcasts, chances are you have something to say too. With rss.com, starting your own is free and easy. Upload an episode and we distribute it to Apple podcasts, Spotify, Amazon Music and

hundreds more. Track your listeners, see where they're from, and start earning from ads like this. Even with just 10 listeners a month. If you've been thinking about starting a podcast, this is your sign. Start free at rss.com.

More episodes

More from pplpod

View all episodes →