Let me introduce you to the real puppet master of the NZ auction room. No, not the guy sweating into his clipboard. Not the bidder with the sunglasses and the delusions of grandeur. The real power? It’s the seller. And if they’re smart, they’ve got Rob Tulp on their side. Again. For the second year in a row, he’s been crowned New Zealand’s number one auctioneer, and for good reason: the man can turn a three-bedroom in Avondale into a bidding bloodbath.
Now, when people say, “The auctioneer works for the vendor,” they’re not kidding. Rob’s entire job is to extract what he calls the “emotional premium.” Buyers walk in thinking with their heads, quoting logical prices. Rob’s mission is to hijack their brains, bypass reason entirely, and make them fight over a house like it’s the last pie at a tradie convention.
So, how does he do it? Momentum. Low openings. Competitive arousal. That’s not my term, it’s Harvard’s. Once buyers fear they might lose the property, it’s not about value anymore. Instead, it’s about ego. It’s about winning. And Rob plays that psychology like a concert violinist on commission.
Let’s talk vendor bids. These are Rob’s secret weapons. Legally disclosed, ethically managed, but lethal when deployed right. If no real bids are high enough to even start the game, Rob can insert a vendor bid just to reset the entire stage. All previous bids? Erased. Everyone back to zero. It’s like flipping the Monopoly board and saying, “New rules. Let’s go again.”
Gone are the days of bouncing phantom bids off the back wall or pretending the guy with his back turned just raised his eyebrow. These days, everything’s transparent. If Rob drops a vendor bid, he’ll say it out loud. Loudly. Clearly. And then carry on like a general charging into the next volley.
And let’s clear up a myth: just because you were the highest bidder doesn’t mean you get first negotiation rights. No. If the property is passed in, the seller can offer you the property at reserve. Not a discount. Not a secret handshake. At reserve. End of story.
One of Rob’s greatest NZ auction tales? It started slow. One bidder. Then a vendor bid, and another. Then two people caught fire. A thousand-dollar bid. Then another. Then another. They traded bids like Pokémon cards in 1999. Over 350 bids. Two bidders. One stood at the back like a statue. The other sat at the front doing the same.
Rob was the only one who could see both. It was like watching a slow-motion tennis match between ghosts.
And then the twist: the man stopped. The woman took over. Because of course she did. That’s how every big household decision ends. And she won the house.
Moral of the story? NZ auctions aren’t battles. They’re warzones. And the best soldiers have a game plan.
So why do so many properties in Auckland go to auction? Because it’s faster. It’s strategic. Because it gives unconditional buyers a 15-minute head start before the conditional crowd even gets a look in. It’s not about forcing a sale under the hammer. It’s about giving the seller options. If the price is right, they take it. If not, they pivot to Plan B.
NZ auction deadlines work because they force decisions. If humans didn’t have deadlines, we’d never pay bills, file taxes, or leave bad relationships. NZ auctions create that pressure—and pressure makes diamonds. Or in this case, settlements.
What about location? On-site, in-room, online—Rob’s done them all. Each has pros and cons. On-site can be emotional—great if the house has a view, less great if the neighbour’s BBQing sausages with a Bluetooth speaker blasting Jimmy Barnes. In-room? Less weather risk, more theatre. Online? Efficient, sterile, about as emotionally charged as a beige filing cabinet.
Rob’s favourite? Anything except online. He wants sellers nearby but out of sight, listening in, not sweating in public. He’s called NZ auctions with 104-year-old vendors watching quietly from the next room, which proves two things: one, you’re never too old to sell a house, and two, dignity still matters.
The point is this: auctions work when they’re executed with strategy, transparency, and emotional intelligence.
And Rob? He doesn’t just conduct auctions. He orchestrates them. Like a conductor, except the crescendo is money.
You can try your luck. Or you can stack the deck. And when sellers bring in Rob, you can guess which one they’re doing.
If you’re serious about property in New Zealand, stop watching the amateurs. Subscribe. Stay dangerous. And let the other side blink first.
Disclaimer: This article is intended to provide only a summary of the issues associated with the topics covered. It does not purport to be comprehensive nor to provide specific advice. No person should act in reliance on any statement contained within this article without first obtaining specific professional advice. If you require any further information or advice on any matter covered within this article, please contact an adviser from mortgagehq.
