The Canterbury town where the pub has $7 burgers and the owner wears jandals year-round

Sunday, 28 June 2026

The Press series Back Roads & Back Stories profiles the Mainland’s small towns and the people who live in them. Nominate a spot by emailing reporters@press.co.nz

The tell-tale sign this is a rural New Zealand town is in the local publican’s footwear.

It’s less than 10C outside. The wood burner is roaring at the Angler’s Arms Tavern, and Toby Skevington walks through the room in a woollen jersey, trousers – and jandals.

“Jandals on 12 months of the year,” he says in response to my exclamation: “Jandals?!”

Toby and his wife, Jackie, have owned the pub in Sefton for close to 20 years, living upstairs in the tavern.

The move from their four-hectare block in Kaiapoi was meant to have been for them to slow down, Jackie says, but it didn’t quite go to plan.

“We were looking for a place to calm down and settle, easy-osey. Yeah, that hasn’t happened … cos it’s gone through the roof, this place.”

A man of few words and quietly spoken, Toby adds: “It’s busy. Got awesome locals – wouldn’t swap them.”

It’s a Tuesday when photographer Alden Williams and I drive the 35 minutes to Sefton in North Canterbury.

Sandwiched between the quiet settlement of Balcairn and the small town of Ashley on the Inland Scenic Route 72, Sefton only has a smattering of remnants from its heyday.

Settled in the late 1800s as a prominent dairy and agricultural centre, it takes its name from William Sefton Moorhouse, the influential second superintendent of the Canterbury Province, a sub-national government that existed between 1853 and 1876 before being abolished.

A few remaining landmarks give a hint of the once-bustling area, including the old library that stands empty, the concrete platform that serviced freight and passenger trains whistling to a stop, and a corner weatherboard character home with the words ‘The Old Bank’ over the door.

Gone are the post office, the blacksmith, the butchery and the general store, but what remains are a school, a garage, the pub, and a lot of heart.

The pub began as Sefton Hotel in 1877 before it was rebuilt in 1902 as part of the Fletcher Humphreys stable of hotels throughout Canterbury.

It was given its current name in the 1920s, reverting back to being the Sefton Hotel in 1929 for a stint. But today it’s simply a pub, its nine extra rooms no longer open to weary travellers, instead occasionally filled with the publicans’ family.

There were only one or two punters in the bar at 11.30am on the day of our visit. An hour later, there were about a dozen – at the bar, playing pool, or sitting at a table watching the World Cup football match between New Zealand and Iran.

According to the locals, there’s not much else to do in Sefton – there’s a farming community, and Jackie says “the best greyhound trainer in Australasia” is based there.

“We’ve had top jockeys that have lived here that have come in this pub,” she says, and there are a lot of horse and greyhound trainers.

The couple have seen some growth in the town, which currently boasts a population of roughly 270 people.

“In the last two or three years there’s been more development in Sefton, a lot more 10-acre blocks,” Toby says.

“Town people came here to settle,” Jackie pitches in.

The scenic road between Rangiora and Amberley has got “a lot busier,” Toby finishes.

It’s the couple’s first pub and the longest stretch of staying in one spot, which they put down to “good people, good lifestyle”.

Jackie and Toby met in central Otago about 35 years ago in the shearing game before changing tack, each of them owning a dairy in Christchurch, one in Halswell, the other on Church Corner, Upper Riccarton.

When they sold the dairies, they bought a North New Brighton food market on Travis Rd, where they remained for nearly eight years, living “about four houses down from the mini market,” Jackie says.

After the food market they shifted to a large block of land in Kaiapoi, where they intended to take a year off to “knock it into shape”, but Toby says they got bored, so looked at pubs for their retirement plan.

Both in their 70s, they open the pub every day, which the couple treat like their home – not just upstairs, but downstairs too.

“It’s our house,” Jackie says. Referring to the regulars, she adds: “It’s their home as well.”

Retired – “believe it or not” – she says she recently did five hours behind the bar on her own.

“The queues were two deep all the time, but you just do it.

“We’ve still got it; get more aches and pains, though, when you finish.”

Friday is the busiest night of the week, when 50 to 100 customers, young and old, descend on the pub.

“There could be about 30 young ones in here on a Friday night. We close at 10pm bang on and they all go without any hassle. But it’s through training, though – we had to train them.”

There’s no training the older clientele.

“They love to sit along the bar. In the morning after the place is cleaned, I take all the chairs away from the bar and put them around the tables.” By the end of the night, the chairs are back at the bar, she laughs.

“Even when we get buses – a lot of buses call in – they won’t move. They just stay there, and you’re trying to serve and you have to squeeze through.”

A long-standing regular, Chris Keir sits at the bar nursing a bottle of Export Gold. He’s lived in Sefton for “40-odd” years, he says, after shifting from Rangiora.

Propping up the bar for three hours is his daily ritual since retiring at 70, because there’s always someone to talk to.

“I live on my own and it’s good company. It just breaks the day up nicely. I know everyone.”

Born and bred in Brooklands on the Waimakariri River, he’s lived in Christchurch and Waiau “and a few other places”, but he’s not leaving North Canterbury.

“Why would ya? Too cold down there, and it’s rubbish up top.”

When asked about points of interest in Sefton, he mentions the greyhound trainers, an industry that is front-of-mind ahead of the ban on racing taking effect on August 1.

“It’ll take quite a bit away – some good breeders round here.”

A group of young shearers play pool between drinks.

“The sheep got wet,” Nikita Herlihy, 22, says, so it was an early finish.

She lives in Loburn along with Jahmaine Paku, also 22, both working for her dad.

There’s no pub in Loburn, so for the shearers, the Angler’s Arms is their local.

“Sefton’s definitely the place,” Nikita says. “Good people, nice food, really nice food. Cheap, and really good burgers. You don’t get that in many places.”

Most of the burgers are $7 and a small basket of chips is $4.

“This is the hub – keeps everyone together, cos this is where everyone comes,” she says.

All eyes are on the TV in the corner of the pub, and then roars of jubilation echo, arms swing upwards and shoulders rise as New Zealand score a goal.

Down the road, Vanessa Rowe is vacuuming her home, The Old Bank.

She’s lived there for 30 years and considers it her responsibility to keep the former Union Bank of Australia building in shape.

“I believe in looking after old houses. It’s always been loved, this house.” People stop to take photos of it, so Vanessa says she’s “always felt this need to keep it looking perfect, which I don’t do as much these days”.

A painter and paperer, she’s done all the renovations, painting the place at least twice and designing the garden.

Built in the 1870s entirely from kauri, it served as a bank for just a decade.

“It’s been a beautiful family home,” she says, but it’s time to move on.

It’s going on the market next year.

“I spent about the last five years divorcing myself from the house.

“There’s always maintenance, but that’s what you’ve gotta do when you love an old house. I’ve done every inch of this house.“

But she’s not leaving Sefton. She’s building on a section at the back.