The Whare That Started It All
The first official whare we ever bought was in Ōtaki—75 Atkinson Ave. I still remember the open home: must’ve been about 20 people there. It was the last house on our list, and honestly, if we didn’t get this one, I’m not sure what we would’ve done.
A bit of backstory: when we decided to resign from our corporate jobs in Wellington and study te reo Māori full-time, I suggested to Cassandra, “Let’s move to Ōtaki.” And instead of renting, I said, “Why don’t we just buy?”
We had decent KiwiSaver, enough to make it work. I went to the bank and asked if we could borrow $350k. They came back with $670k. I was like, “OK… we don’t need that much, but sure.”
What the bank didn’t know was that I’d already resigned, and the clock was ticking to find a house and settle before things got tricky.
We moved fast. First, we looked at a property in Ōhau, just outside Levin. It wasn’t perfect, but it was cheap—$350k. Our offer was accepted, but it was in probate, and the timing was uncertain. We didn’t have that luxury, so we moved on.
Next was a house on Mill Road in Ōtaki, $450k. Missed out.
By now we had three weeks left. We found a place on Rangiuru Road, offered $400k, and won—but our lawyer, who charges $350/hr, strongly advised against it. When you’re paying that rate, you listen. So we let it go.
That left us with one last shot: 75 Atkinson Avenue.
The open home was packed. We thought our chances were slim. But we went all in, writing what the real estate world calls a “love letter”—a personal note to the owners explaining who we were and why we wanted their whare.
Through research, we found the property was owned by the daughter of Te Huirangi Waikerepuru, a kaumātua from Taranaki who had been deeply involved in the revitalisation of te reo Māori. That felt like a tohu. If she read our letter and understood why we were moving to Ōtaki, maybe we’d have a shot.
A few days later, the agent messaged: they loved the letter. “If you match this number, the house is yours.”
We matched $530k and signed.
It wasn’t without stress. I was soon to be jobless. How would we pay the mortgage? I’d calculated that if we went interest-only at 3.5%, our student allowances would cover it. But sitting in the lawyer’s office, seeing the repayments listed—double what I’d calculated—I had a panic attack, went home, and rechecked my numbers. They were right. We pushed through, settled, and moved in three days after my last day of work. To this day, it feels surreal that we pulled it off.
Ōtaki will always hold a special place in our hearts—our doorstep into te ao Māori, Kārena kōhanga, Riria’s first whare, and our girls’ other tūrangawaewae, connecting them to Ngāti Raukawa. But it’s time for the next chapter. When your puku says do it, you trust it—and we’re ready to take that leap.
This isn’t just about buying another property; it’s about creating space to dream bigger for our whānau, our journey, and the business we’re building. Ōtaki gave us our first foothold, but this next step opens the door to new possibilities. It has big implications for our business too, good ones where we can start shaping the future we’ve been talking about, not just keeping up with the present.
If we can pull this next one off, it will be a story worth telling. And when the time comes, we will share it.