Gerard Campbell, the only son of Peter and Gemma, the renowned Auckland Campbell’s. Some say he was born with a platinum spoon in his mouth, his family were so wealthy. It could have made him a spoilt brat when he was a child, and a jet setting playboy when he became an adult…it didn’t.

Perhaps the fact that Gemma could have no other children following the difficult birth of her beloved son helped him when he was eleven years old. He begged them to let him go to the local grammar school and not the stuffy, exclusive private school they had set their hearts on, and wanting him to grow up as unpretentious as they could make him, they agreed.

Gerard made friends easily and became very popular with all the boys. Only the teachers called him Gerard. His mates soon shortened it to Gez or Jurd. He had a happy school life. He was fiercely intelligent and eventually graduated from university with a master’s degree with honours in architecture, along with two bachelors’ degrees in geology and computer sciences.

When he was 21, he gained access to his trust fund. He’d grown up knowing that the family was well off, but he was in total shock when he realised just how much money was now at his disposal, his father was a modest man and never flaunted the family wealth. Jurd knew that he would never have to work a day of his life, but that was not in his nature. He began sending out his resume to the architectural firms in the city.

It didn’t take long before he was snapped up by the best firm in Auckland, and he quickly rose through the ranks. He was happy in his work…until the whispers and looks began. Rumour had it that his family name got him his promotions and not his skill.

Sadly, Jurd decided to leave the firm and try his luck in Wellington. Unfortunately, he came across the same situation there. The Campbell name was just too well known all over New Zealand. In the end he decided to put some distance between him and his home, but not too far. He ended up in Sydney.

This time, he took the chance to open up his own ‘shop’. He put ads out in the trade papers and soon had a good crew to work with. He was happy. In Sydney he was soon known as a very talented architect, not as the son of the richest man in New Zealand.

The business thrived and expanded. His staff was the best in their field. After a couple of years, he knew that he could rely on them to keep the ship afloat. He was getting itchy feet. Gerard Campbell was going walkabout.

So, here he was on the northwest coast of Western Australia looking over the land he had purchased. It was an old, rundown whaling village. Nothing much left after years of abandonment. The jetty was still in good shape, but that was about all. He smiled. This was going to be a good project. Jurd had picked out a prime plot, and was designing his new home. The rest of his land would be divided into lots and put up for sale. He would give any interested buyers the option of having their new properties designed by him, at no extra charge.

He wanted to change the name of the place as he didn’t want people to remember what used to happen there. Thinking fondly of his folks back home, he registered his new ‘community’ as New (Port) Auckland. He was looking forward to seeing who his future neighbours would be.