Bay of Plenty housing: Productive farmland should be left to produce - Sonya Bateson

Every house that is built on farmland permanently prevents that land from being productive, writes Sonya Bateson. Photo / 123rf

OPINION

What do you do when you need more houses but the available land for expansion produces the food we eat?

It’s quite the conundrum, isn’t it?

And it’s a question that’s becoming increasingly relevant here in the Bay of Plenty as our urban centres grapple with growing populations and housing shortages, particularly in the coastal areas of the region that are ringed by orchards and farms.

I’d describe Tauranga, the Bay’s largest centre, as sprawling. A big reason for that is its geography, of course – that big harbour right smack in the middle doesn’t make for simple town planning.

But another reason is because of how the city has grown – piece by piece.

In 1911, Tauranga was a small settlement of about 1200 people. Isn’t that strange to think about? That was only 112 years ago.

From then on, Tauranga saw what respected historian Jinty Rorke described as “substantial urbanisation”.

Between 1959 and 1963, there were five boundary adjustments to cope with Tauranga’s rapidly growing population, adding Maungatapu, Hairini, Ōtūmoetai, Judea and Greerton. In the 12 years to 1963, Tauranga’s population trebled in size to 21,500 and was officially proclaimed a city.

And look at it now, a large (by New Zealand standards) city with an estimated population of 161,800, and suburbs stretching from Mount Maunganui and Pāpāmoa in the north and east, and Bethlehem and Pyes Pa in the west and south. A far cry from 112 years ago.

Is it better to use orchards and farmland near Tauranga's fringes for housing or food production? Photo / Mead Norton

Despite that urbanisation, I’d suggest that most of us who live in the suburbs of Tauranga probably still live within a stone’s throw of some kind of agriculture. And it’s pretty obvious why that is – this rapidly growing city has been swallowing up arable land for decades now, leaving patches of farmed land sandwiched between new cookie-cutter housing developments.

My own house was farmland 25 years ago and it’s now part of a network of cul-de-sacs surrounded by productive land – I’m sitting comfortably in my urban home office with excellent Wi-Fi and cell coverage, yet just up the road are some orchards and grazing cows. I can hear goats bleating as I type – not the most pleasant soundtrack, true, but it adds to the character of the neighbourhood, right?

But what that represents is also a touch concerning: Every house that is built on farmland permanently prevents that land from being productive.

Rotorua is seeing this on its fringes too, with former farmland sites in city fringe suburbs such as Owhatā and Ngongotahā being turned into state housing.

As the Ministry of Primary Industries says, about 15 per cent of New Zealand’s land is categorised as “highly productive”, aka the country’s most fertile and versatile land. Since 2002, urban and rural residential development has swallowed up 35,000 hectares of highly productive land throughout the country.

To get an idea of how big that is, the Redwoods in Rotorua is more than 5600ha, Tauranga city’s land area is 14,191ha, and Lake Rotorua is more than 8000ha.

That loss of arable land is why the Government introduced a National Policy Statement for highly productive land in 2022, to “provide direction to improve the way highly productive land is managed under the Resource Management Act”.

That being so, I can see why a proposed housing development of up to 130 new houses in Oongakawa, as reported this week, is controversial.

Despite being in the countryside, it would somewhat help alleviate the housing pressures on nearby centres such as Tauranga, Te Puke and maybe Rotorua.

The area at Pongakawa where Pencarrow Estate is planned.

Anything in comfortable driving distance to those places will be snapped up by eager buyers – especially considering how central Pongakawa is to all the main centres of the Bay. It’s an easy commute to almost everywhere.

And, yet, as the plans stand, the housing component of the proposal would take up 8.15ha and 1600sq m would be set aside for a commercial zone. The development would also include an onsite wastewater treatment and disposal area, stormwater reserve, roads, village green, and private playground.

All that is planned to be built on a block of land measuring 12.37ha that is currently being worked as a dairy farm.

That’s a really big chunk of farmland to dedicate to housing, especially when you consider that it’s not near an existing township or many amenities aside from a school, a petrol station and an action centre, all on the other side of the busy highway.

Not to mention that that particular stretch of road has seen its fair share of fatal car accidents over the years – I’ve been to a few myself. I’d imagine that adding that much extra traffic would require some substantial roading changes to improve the safety of the intersections.

And once one is built, it’ll pave the way for other such rural developments. The Bay of Plenty’s highly productive land could soon be interspersed with an ever-expanding patchwork of small settlements of people who all need to drive to their jobs, schools, and supermarkets in the main centres. That’ll be fun.

The Bay needs more houses. That’s undeniable.

We need clever and innovative solutions to alleviate our housing woes. But I’m not sure chipping away at one of the cornerstones of our economy, agriculture is a great way to go about that.

Productive land is a precious and finite resource – once it’s gone, it’s gone.

We need to tread carefully and ensure that the solutions of today aren’t fuelling the problems of tomorrow.

Sonya Bateson is a writer, reader, and crafter raising her family in Tauranga. She is a Millennial who enjoys eating avocado on toast, drinking lattes and defying stereotypes. As a sceptic, she reserves the right to change her mind when presented with new evidence.