All Works

The New Wharf: once all ropes, rickety timber, and craypots that smelled like hard work. Now it’s modern, sleek, and anchored by a building you can’t miss—like it or not. The salty air keeps things honest. Kaikōura’s always had the looks; now Wakatu Quay is pulling its weight.

I got Abby when she was 18 months old. Now she is more than 14 and a half. Every day, whether it rained, hailed, or the sun was shining, we’ve walked this loop around Kaikōura. Until recently, we did it twice a day. She always stops at the skateboard ramp for a pat. She always keeps an eye out for a kid’s discarded sandwich. And every afternoon, she still lets me know when it’s time to head out.

Sunday morning near Middle Creek, the tide going out. The beach quiet, the day not quite begun. Cold light on wet sand, the Kaikōura Ranges just catching the dawn. The sky made an effort, a little bit of colour. Abby, nose down, somewhere ahead on the sand. These pictures belong to the slow part of Sunday.

There is no shortage of things to see in Kaikōura. The mountains drop right into the sea. Sperm whales come up for air just offshore. Seals rest on almost every rock along the coast.
Someone thought the walls deserved some attention, too.
Kaikōura’s street art is easy to miss. You might spot it between a shop and a car park, or on the back of a building you pass on your way. Some pieces are extraordinary. Others are trying hard. All of them are out there on the wall, doing their best in a town that’s already got a lot going on.
That feels worth noticing.

During summer, the shops on the main street are busy with travellers. By autumn, the street belongs to the town again. I made these photos on a quiet Sunday afternoon in late autumn when the footpaths were empty and a few signs still read ‘Open.’ No one came.

Wandering with my camera and no real plan, past the sheds and wharves, along the seafront, and through the parts of town that just go about their business. These are the parts of Kaikōura between tides, the ones you never see on postcards. Black and white felt honest.