The Hidden Caves Beneath Auckland’s Quiet Streets
If you walk through the calm streets of Mount Eden in Auckland, you would never imagine that something extraordinary lies underneath. Behind a peaceful garden filled with tropical plants, a secret world waits below the surface. It begins with a dark opening in the ground that looks almost alive, like the mouth of something ancient that has been sleeping for thousands of years.
The man who owns the place, Sean Jacob, smiles when people first see it. “They all lose their words down here,” he says as he stands in the cool, echoing chamber. The cave stretches for more than a hundred meters, and in some parts, it rises high enough to stand tall. Deep inside there is a wide space that Jacob calls the ballroom. The walls glimmer faintly with golden minerals, as if they are holding their own quiet light.
Beyond that, there is another chamber that can only be reached through a narrow crawl space. Jacob tried to go in once and came out covered in scratches. “It’s like crawling through a cheese grater,” he laughs.
Most people in Auckland know they live among volcanoes. There are fifty three of them scattered across the city. But few realize there is another world hidden underneath. The caves and tunnels were formed by ancient lava flows thousands of years ago. Scientists believe there are around two hundred known caves beneath Auckland, and every month new ones are found as building projects dig deeper and tools become more advanced.
Now researchers are trying to map them for the first time to protect what they call a geological wonder and to understand their deeper cultural meaning.
From Shelter to Secret Printing Press
Through the years the caves have served many surprising roles. Back in 1877 a widow lived in one and became known as the hermit of St Anns. In the 1940s a group of schoolboys found a hidden communist printing press inside a cave. Later on some of the caves were used for growing mushrooms or storing wine. Others became simple rest spots for workers who wanted a quiet break underground.
Sean Jacob bought his house in 2008 partly because of the cave beneath it. He was afraid it would be destroyed by new construction if someone else owned the land. Since then he has opened it up for visits, music performances, and even film shoots. Sometimes strangers climb over his fence out of curiosity, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much.
The Science Beneath the City
The story of these caves begins with fire. When lava flowed across the land, the outer edges cooled and turned to solid rock, while the molten core kept moving. When the lava drained away, it left empty tunnels that slowly disappeared under layers of soil, rock, and plants. Over time homes and roads were built right above them.
Some of these hidden tunnels stretch beneath public parks. Others were once considered as bomb shelters during the war. Under Ambury Regional Park near Mangere Mountain, there is a whole network of caves that still wind silently through the ground.
Protecting What’s Sacred
Kate Lewis from Auckland Council is one of the people trying to protect these places. She wears a yellow helmet and squeezes through narrow openings, brushing past moss and ferns as she climbs down. Inside, the air feels still and heavy. The walls drip slowly and shine faintly in the flashlight beam. “All of this was once liquid rock,” she says quietly.
For local Māori tribes, some of these caves are sacred. They were places where ancestors were laid to rest, and many have been disturbed in the past by settlers who took remains for private collections or museums. It is something that still causes pain today.
Researchers like Lewis and others are now working with Māori guardians of the land to bring back respect for these sites. A young researcher named Jaxon Ingold from the University of Auckland is building a full map of the city’s caves, collecting old records and adding new ones as they are found. His goal is to protect them, both for science and for history.
As Massey University’s Kelvin Tapuke explains, the caves are treasures, not just holes in the ground. “They are sacred,” he says. “They are places that hold our loved ones and our stories. They deserve to be left in peace.”
