It's isolated. Getting there can be an adventure, as it only opens its door to the outside world for a short period each day; and that's the way the cribbies like it.
Misjudge the low tide river crossing in your 4WD and you will be the toast of the locals for weeks.
However, if you do manage to successfully negotiate the ever-changing river, with its soft sand, steep banks, holes and hidden trees, you had better have an invitation to stay over because you are going nowhere else until the next low tide at the earliest as the bush dividing this spot from the nearby scenic coastal road is almost impenetrable.
I'm also told the weather is terrible, the fishing is terrible, there is no phone reception and if occasionally when the sun does shine, it brings out the droves of blood-hungry sand-flies.
With these warnings off their chests, the locals I spoke to then admitted some families can boast five generations of family holidaying at cribs on the Tautuku Peninsula in the Catlins.
A settlement was first established on the peninsula by whalers in 1844. They stayed for seven years, catching 50 whales during that time, the remnants of their whaling station still visible in the river today.
The port was later developed to serve the timber, flax and fishing industries.
Coal miners from Kaitangata were early holiday-makers on the peninsula, largely building their cribs out of used ammunition boxes. At that time horses were used to ferry supplies along the beach and across the river.
Model T Fords followed the horses before being upstaged by tractors and most recently 4WDs which can now be conveniently loaded with supplies at home, driven the length of the beach, through the river and right up to the crib door.
Today, sheep and cattle are grazed on the peninsula and must also cross the river when coming or going.
Long-term cribbie Jack Harrold has defied his 79 years by zipping out a side gate as I entered the front one carrying a large camera and shiny notebook.
Jack and his wife Hilda from Balclutha were initially reluctant to say anything about their holiday retreat.
Perhaps it was their normal warm hospitality or perhaps it was pride in their holiday house but soon after arriving I was given the grand tour of a typical Tautuku Peninsula crib.
Firstly though, while keeping one wary eye on gathering rain clouds moving in from the south, Jack put down his well-worn paintbush which he was using to give a lick of green paint to the side of an iron-clad shed.
Sitting as they do, exposed on a long headland jutting into the Pacific Ocean, dwellings on this peninsula require regular upkeep as they have no protection from frequent storms and driven salt spray.
Their crib, nowadays very comfortable with rows of beds and expansive living areas, was just an old army hut when Jack took it over in 1957.
Putting his building skills to good use, he has built out in all directions and while the army hut remains, it only forms a small part of this immaculately kept abode.
The north-facing windows and deck give expansive views across the ever-changing river, beach and sea to Rainbow Isles (Rere Kohu) and Long Point (Irihuka).
There is not a weed in Jack's vegie garden, just carrots, lettuce, potatoes, cabbage, onions and cabbage while inside in Hilda's domain there is not a speck of dust but all the trappings of modern living - fridge, cooker, flush toilet and even a television, which with a bit of modern trickery now picks up all the important sporting broadcasts.
Typical of the location, appliances are run off gas with individual generators kicked into life after dark to run the lights.
One intriguing photograph on the wall shows an unidentified sea visitor in a pool below the crib a number of years ago.
Sporting the nostrils of a hippopotamus, a short trunk of an elephant and tail of a fish, even the experts cannot explain it; and it's not a moose, someone in the room quipped!
Photographs adorn the walls of the nearby ''Our Point of View'' crib as well.
They offer a social history showing generations of family holiday activities including trophy sharks and groper caught before the days when boats were commonplace and it was not unusual to land groper from the rocks.
Within an arm's length of the front door, red-billed gulls soar on an updraft above the cliff while offering an organic recycling service for fresh kitchen scraps.
Building was started on this crib by Pop (Dick) and Julia Hughes in 1958 who walked the peninsula before finding this ''Point with a great view''.
The crib has been left as their legacy where, ''immediate and extended family and their friends can spend quality time together''.
Here I found the coffee is hot, the beer is cold and the welcome warm but grunty; tread on the 4WD parked out the back looks more suited to soft sand travel than an earth-contracting business in Geraldine.
Blake Downie from Temuka has been holidaying here all of his life.
He is fourth generation and joining him and his wife, Maraea, for this school holiday week are both children and grandchildren who, like he has done over the years, will often spend all day foraging and exploring on the peninsula - only returning when hungry, sleepy or as they get older, thirsty.
This crib is well used by extended family and friends who contribute a small nightly fee which helps with upkeep as well as covering annual fees to the council and the Maori Trust which owns the peninsula.
Most of the 30 or so dwellings are built on the council-administered road line.
The council has ruled that no more cribs are to be built.
Blake and his wife Maraea have booked a week over New Year.
Between working-bees, crib upkeep, the annual fishing competition, a committee meeting in the community hall and beach running races the time will pass very quickly and it will be back home and to work - for a rest.
