IT’S GOT A CAVE.
There is no reason for 12 Campbell Street to have a cave. There is no explanation for it. Warners Bay is not known for its caves. Lake Macquarie is a lake, not a karst system. But somewhere behind a perfectly ordinary weatherboard house, past the Hills Hoist and the garage, there is a cave, with stalactites, and nobody, at any point in the selling process, has thought to bring it up.
The agent wrote roughly three hundred words about this property. They covered the 746 square metre block, the 14.9 metre frontage, the side access, the timber floorboards, the renovated bathroom, the quiet leafy street and the walk to the lakeside cafes. They used the phrase “exciting future potential.” They did not use the word “cave.” Not once. Not even “grotto.” Not even “unique rock feature.” It is the single most remarkable thing on the property, and it’s been handled like a family secret.
So, since nobody else will, we’ve put together a few answers to the questions you’re going to have.
Does it really have a cave?
Yes. It’s on the floorplan. It’s labelled “Cave.” It measures 3.50 by 4.73 metres, which is bigger than two of the bedrooms. Inside it you’ll find a moulded stone bench with a timber seat curving around the wall, a white patio table in the middle, a drain in the floor, and a ceiling hanging with dozens of hand-made stalactites, streaked in rust, green and purple like the real thing after a few thousand years of dripping. There’s also a green wheelbarrow parked against the wall, which we choose to believe was the primary construction tool.
Is it a real cave?
No, almost certainly not. Nobody discovered it. Somebody built it. Somebody looked at a flat suburban backyard in the Lake Macquarie basin and decided what it was missing was a subterranean chamber, then went out and made one, stalactite by stalactite. We don’t know whether that makes it more or less impressive. Possibly both.
How do you get to it?
Through a tunnel, naturally. Out the back of the house is a courtyard with a rock-walled garden bed, a few towering palms wrapped in vines, and a hooped archway. Step through and you’re in a mesh-and-plastic walkway lined with hanging orchids, flanked by faux-rock railings, with a framed poem on the wall and the word WELCOME pressed into the path at your feet. Down the far end, the walls turn to rock and the light changes. That’s the cave mouth. It’s a lot to take in on a Saturday open inspection.
Why does it have a cave?
Nobody knows. That’s the whole thing. Nobody knows, and the one person paid to tell you about this house went out of their way not to.
Is there anything else back there?
Oh, yes. There’s a two-storey studio, which the agent calls “a unique council-approved studio space,” and which is the only clue in the whole ad that something unusual is happening. It has a faux-rock pillar holding up one corner, a workshop, storage, a shower room, a toilet, and upstairs, a room painted entirely blue: walls, ceiling, beams, everything. It’s full of canvases, there’s a daybed, a little desk of paint pots, a wardrobe, and a hole in the ceiling where the insulation is poking through to say hello. It looks like the place where the cave was dreamed up. Or possibly where it was planned, sketched and argued over.
What’s the actual house like?
Honestly? Lovely. Neat, tidy, and, apart from one wall, completely normal. Four bedrooms, polished timber floorboards throughout, an entire wall of teak built-ins in the master, a teak wall unit and a glowing leadlight display cabinet in the lounge, a white kitchen with a floral tile border, and a freshly renovated bathroom with a walk-in shower that the agent describes as “stunning,” a word they apparently couldn’t spare for the cave.
What about the one wall?
The dining nook has a hand-painted mural wrapping around two full walls, floor to ceiling. Snow-capped mountains, an alpine lake, waterfalls tumbling down cliffs, a dense pine forest, a little log cabin up on a ridge, and an eagle swooping overhead. It’s an extraordinary amount of effort, and it’s exactly what you’d want to look at while you eat your Weet-Bix. There’s a small framed mountain painting in the peach bedroom too, which we suspect was the practice run. We don’t want to take anything away from the mural. It’s a genuine labour of love. It’s just that there’s a cave out the back, and the cave wins.
Who is this house for?
Somebody has truly made this place their home. Every rock, every stalactite, every orchid and every brushstroke of that alpine lake was put there by someone who wanted it there, and now they’re selling the dream in the hope that it becomes somebody else’s. That’s a big ask. The ideal buyer has always wanted a quiet street near the lake, walking distance to the shops and the schools, room for a granny flat (STCA)… and a cave.
We’re not saying that person doesn’t exist. We’re saying they should probably move quickly, because there’s only one listing in Warners Bay with a cave, and the agent is never going to tell them it’s there.
