Beach houses are the darlings of Australian design. Our young years are spent either holidaying in them, or dreaming about them.

From a construction perspective, we’ll passionately endorse what the Aussie beach house should be. Few would dare challenge the unofficial blueprint of modesty, simplicity and beauty. So as we stumble across this example on the mid NSW coast, it’s hard to not to fall in love.

As we’d find out, we wouldn’t be the first to absorb that sentiment.

Perhaps quintessentially Australian, Fishcakes nails what can be a sensitive design to master. More modern getaways teeter into flashiness, as if plucked out of suburbia. Other older shacks get tired, and cry out for new concepts and their next life.

Fishcakes strikes that balance with a connection to the landscape. It’s forever absorbing a changing view, interacting with nature and seasonality. It’s 16 years old in its current form. Yet it could have been built yesterday.

Hatched over beers, then upcoming Newcastle architect Shane Blue and his wife Rachel, would sprawl out plans on the old kitchen table. Together with owner Stephen, they wanted to understand how the wind blew, inventing ideas that would ‘tread as lightly as possible’ on the precious dunes. Today’s Fishcakes still shines because of these early sensibilities.

Before about 1950, surrounding Seal Rocks was a squat of shacks, scattered around a boathouse. Timber workers built an 11km dirt road and the motley inhabitants were old war vets or ex coal mine workers. When Stephen bought the original home, it was a two-bedroom fibro shack – the first house to be sold in 15 years. Utilitarian and not pretty, it came with eight toilets (only one worked) and a fish smoker.

From simple beginnings, new design inspiration came partly from Balinese homes that have separate wings for sleeping, entertaining, and bathrooms. The unique position meant the house was high enough to avoid dust from the road and in the best corner, protected from storms.

“The great trick and triumph of Fishcakes is how protected it is,” Stephen says. “In summer, the NE winds blow and although the big Aussie balcony is often the best idea, we designed a cool courtyard like that of an Arab riad. It makes the whole front of the house a ‘balcony’ in itself, allowing the rear openings to become a delight for long evenings.”

“There are no overlooking neighbours, and the house only reveals itself once you walk up the stairs and you feel like you have arrived. That’s how we leave the world behind for a few days.”

The idea was to use just a few materials and recycled timber came from the old shack. Stephen was looking for simplicity and minimal upkeep. Forward-thinking trimmings included a stainless steel roof, solar hot water, rainwater harvesting and waste treatment.

“It was the dawn of eco building,” Stephen says. “And look how well it has lasted.

“Showering in fresh rain water, and putting the hot garden hose into the kids’ cold wetsuits is a constant laugh. More than a few pregnancies have happened here. It must be the air. More than a few people have fallen in love. It’s the rainwater for sure.”

“There is nothing to add to the house.  Its simplicity has a zen-like command. It keeps life simple, when the rest of the world is not.”

It’s the view that reinforces this exotic ambience. At times, it feels less like the NSW coast, and more like some far-away archipelago. Seafront apex windows open both sides, and indoor/outdoor flow is maintained via garage-style glass doors.

The kitchen is understated and open with gas cooking, while a combustion fireplace adds nostalgia. Matching the ever-present vibration of the swell, the bathroom pavilion is a series of compressed cement partitions – an idea lifted from surf club amenities.

Under-house storage preps the home for holidaymakers, their supplies and toys on hand. And at the far end of the beach, the house is on the cusp of the Sugarloaf Point lighthouse walk.

Now selling, it’s only to ‘do it again’. “I want to find another place that can make us full of wonder again,” Stephen says.

“I have walked out so many times to the lighthouse at night, no moon, no torch – it’s a 10/10 experience. I want to think somewhere else in the world will move us again like that. We love the adventure.”

“Plus, you see, I want to fall in love again with this girl I met at Seal Rocks in 2000. She and the sea changed me.”

“Can we do it again?”