OPINION: I lived my early summers at Whangamatā.

There were two big rules: Don't go swimming until an hour after eating lunch and don't cross to the other side of the estuary … "It's Māori land."

I routinely ignored the first rule, believing it to be an old wives' tale, but for the past 40 years, I have always respected the second.

To this day I have never crossed to the other side of the Whangamatā estuary and never will. The memory of that family advice has always been followed.

Recent conversations with long-time Whangamatā locals confirmed my parents' advice of the 1960s and '70s. The land belongs to someone else and is not to be messed with.

In my young years, it was my first introduction to the notion that Māori could own land at the coast, that fences weren't necessary and the rightful claim of ownership was enough to ensure it would remain untouched.

But a new culture has emerged over recent months: What was once coastal land open and available for everyone to enjoy is now under threat of violence.

Coastal land is now being fought for in ways that don't involve good will, respect and compromise.

They involve bullets, face-to-face intimidation and the dubious use of legislation by councils to control access to the foreshore for their financial benefit. It is coastal terrorism.

This week, the news broke of gunshots being fired at surfers near Te Māika-Albatross Point. It was portrayed as surfer localism, experienced watermen protecting their surf break from out-of-town grommets and tourists muscling in on their turf.

The story went international in Newsweek, while other surfing publications in the United States and Australia picked up the surfing-spun yarn, but missed the larger story entirely. This isn't about surfing localism, this is about access to New Zealand coastal land and it's going to get ugly.

The story changed from being a local-surfers-only scrap when reports surfaced of recreational fishers allegedly also getting the same bullet-in-your-face treatment over recent years.

This is the ugly underside of the coastal turf wars going on that many are just waking up to.

Earlier this year, I reported on the possibility of Tuapiro Point near Katikati being closed to the local horse-riding community following a council bylaw review.

As I looked deeper into the issue, I asked Western Bay District Council for any independent research staff had commissioned from the Bay of Plenty regional council, University of Waikato or any other specialist body that could confirm councils' stated claim of "significant damage" that was the engine behind the council's proposal.

None was forthcoming.

There was no evidence other than hearsay from hapu that damage (whatever "damage" constitutes) was occurring.

I took Western Bay's mayor, Andrew Webber, aside at one of the two open-day meetings I attended to ask in person for the scientific evidence that would support council's significant damage claims. None was presented to me or the attendees of the open days.

Very quickly, Western Bay District Council's narrative changed from being about "significant damage" to being about "feelings".

The council flip-flop from science to feelings was communicated to surprised locals who attended the meetings, leaving many aghast that no independent study by a qualified authority had been commissioned.

In my near 30 years of being in and around professional communicators, I have never witnessed a more amateurish and bungled approach to public consultation and communication with stakeholder groups as I did with the Tuapiro Point meetings conducted by Western Bay of Plenty District Council.

All that was needed to be said from the outset was this was a cultural issue with independent scientific reports confirming "significant damage" (whatever this is) with recommendations to ameliorate the damage to be considered by all affected parties.

None of this was done.

It is a sham. If this is a cultural issue, it has been a cultural issue for decades and council after council ignored it. So why change the bylaw now? Follow the money.

Council received 597 submissions, with 96 per cent of them opposed to the proposed bylaw change.

Yet many in the horse-riding community feel it's a done deal, that it was a council stitch-up from the get-go.

Make no mistake: This is a turf war and it is likely to spread to other regions as things become more militant.

What happened this week in the waters of New Zealand is a moment that can't be ignored: It's a tipping point.

No one owns the sea and the "by invitation only" notion for surfers to surf at Taharoa has the hallmark of coastal apartheid.

That firearms were used is more evidence that New Zealand's gun ownership is spiralling out of control. This isn't mere foolish behaviour, it's reckless.

Today I will walk down to Whangamatā estuary. I will look across the water to the land on the other side knowing I will show respect for the rightful owners of the land. No guns, no bylaws needed.

I can enjoy the surreal quality of this part of my favourite coastline, all the while enjoying the water while showing respect to the owners of the land on the other side.

Isn't this the way it is supposed to be?