Mautohe Cathedral Cove is an arch tunnelled clean through a headland, big enough to walk through, joining the sand of Mares Leg Cove to the smaller beach the cove is named for. You go from shadow into glare in a dozen steps, and out the far side onto white sand and green shallows. Just beyond stands Te Hoho, a rock stack pinched at the waist and crowned with pōhutukawa trees. The water is a no-take marine reserve: Te Whanganui-o-Hei, New Zealand's sixth, declared in 1992. With fishing banned, snapper, red moki and crayfish came back to the rocks below, so a mask is worth as much here as a camera. The white cliff the arch runs through is volcanic ash: ignimbrite, welded together by explosive eruptions around eight million years ago, soft enough for the waves to hollow out and firm enough to stand while they do.
The softness that carved the arch is also unmaking it. In August 2023 about two cubic metres of rock dropped out from beneath it, littering the sand with blocks the size of a picnic cooler. Six months earlier Cyclone Gabrielle had cut some 180 slips into the clifftop track and shut the walk for nearly two years. Access returned in December 2024, a storm closed it again in January 2026, and it reopened days later. The cove is open now, but closures can come at any time and the rules keep changing. The tide runs the rest. At low water you cross beneath the arch dry-footed; at high water the sea takes the passage back and the beach thins to a strip. For Ngāti Hei, who have held this coast for generations, the bay carries the name of an ancestor who came ashore from the Te Arawa canoe.