World catches up with good life

Russel Mooyman hopes mediation with the local council can save the alternative lifestyle community. Photo / Alan Gibson.

They left behind the profit motive, religion, drugs and the complications of modern society to "learn to live together" - but they couldn't escape the Building Act.

Wilderland, an alternative community on the Coromandel Peninsula, has been ordered to evacuate and demolish all its dwellings because they do not meet the building code.

The community was founded on principles of freedom and world peace in 1964 and for decades residents experimented in gardening, building and liberated lifestyles.

But a neighbour recently called in the council's inspectors and now its interpretations on long-drops and improvised spiral staircases are before the Thames District Court.

"They went for broke on every little thing," said a community leader, Russel Mooyman. "It's just what this place wasn't about."

Mr Mooyman has a briefcase stuffed with hundreds of pages of legal papers, detailing the action taken by the Thames-Coromandel District Council under the Building Act.

A flash photograph taken straight down a long-drop is expected to look particularly damning in court. A dining hall kitchen is rustic and tidy but its wooden floor and bench need lino to be legal.

"It's challenging. It's been a steep learning curve ... We've been under attack and it's required extra energy that we would have liked to focus on other things," Mr Mooyman said.

Community members are uncomfortable at the legal jargon imposed on them - they prefer to talk about "harmony" - but say they want to co-operate.

They would upgrade the 14 hand-crafted structures to meet the required standards but they need resource consent to undertake the work and the council won't wait.

Mr Mooyman said that without other authorities or businesses involved, the council could feel like it shouldered all the liability.

A composting toilet was okay if made by a commercial manufacturer, but the same thing built by hand was flagged as unsanitary.

Wilderland has changed since its wild, 1960s origins - its founder has died, hallucinogenic drugs were banned after 20 years, and a free-wheeling chaos has been replaced with a semblance of organisation.

A new generation that took over two years ago even brought in official titles - Mr Mooyman is the community's "general manager".

Wilderland promotes itself as an educational organic farm and the farm manager is seeking a qualification to teach an NZQA-approved course in organics.

But it remains a rugged idyll in the hills off the highway to Whitianga, where families and travellers live self-sufficiently, away from civilisation.

Before a shared lunch every day, announced by bells to gardeners scattered across the property, everyone holds hands and gives thanks.

Mr Mooyman said the council had known for decades about Wilderland's unauthorised houses, and such self-reliance was the pioneering spirit of the Coromandel. The peninsula was full of personal experiments built on people's own land. What had changed was money.

"The value of the land has changed dramatically. It was very marginal. This property probably cost $40,000. Now it's in the millions," Mr Mooyman said.

"It's changing times ... You can't stay under the radar forever."

A steep gravel road leads into the expansive property, 64ha of magnificent ocean views. Manuka and other native bush engulf makeshift wooden sheds, painted old vans, vegetable gardens and tangelo orchards.

A fluctuating population of about 15 people, including children - down from a peak of 60 - could end up in tents if the council gets its way.

Council chief executive Steve Ruru said discussions had not resulted in progress to a point where the council could be confident that users of the buildings were not at risk.

Its decisions had not been made lightly, but it had little choice.