In defence of beach cabanas.

In my family, you don't go to the beach for an hour. 

There is no such thing as dropping your towel and sunnies on the sand and frollicking into the ocean for a quick dip. 

When my family converges on the beach, it looks like we're planning to stay for five-to-seven business days. 

There are beach cabanas (yes plural — there are seven of us and we are all giants). There are padded fold-out chairs. And there's an esky on wheels filled with waters and Gatorades as if we're planning on running a marathon and not… literally doing nothing. 

Because when you don't live near a beach and you make the effort to get there, you have to make it count. 

Watch: Modern etiquette for travel. Post continues below.

Having grown up in the western suburbs of Sydney, the beach isn't one of a multitude of activities you do in a day. It IS the day.

And it was a conversation about this extensive setup that sparked one of the most polarising pieces to ever be published on Mamamia when Emily Vernem dared to write a piece titled, 'If you own a beach cabana, it tells me everything I need to know about you.' (You can read the full article here)Did I suggest she write this hilarious story in our editorial meeting? Yes. 

Did I expect the reaction it got? Also yes (sorry Em). 

Because it's become clear over the summer break that we all have very strong opinions about beach etiquette that need to be expressed. 

We are all the random girl from Mean Girls. Image: Mean Girls via Paramount Pictures.

In her article, Em made the fair point that beach cabanas seem to have multiplied like little blue-and-white-striped bunnies.

"I don't know when the cabana gang started, all I know is that cabana culture has ruined my life," she wrote. (For legal purposes, I must remind you she was joking… kind of.)

"And I know what you're going to say, 'We're just practising sun safety and being sensible.' Yes, yes you are. But how much shade do you need? What happened to the good ol' beach umbrella? I'm sure she's feeling super left out right now. I miss the days of holding down the metal or wooden pole because she couldn't hold herself up. When she decided that she wanted to be released from her bonds, she would Mary Poppins her way to some other unexpected beach goer."

Well, as a pale girly who doesn't like to be uncomfortable or sweaty for even a millisecond if I can help it, I'm here to defend the cabana users. 

But let me be clear: I am only here to defend the mindful cabana users. The demure ones. The courteous ones. The ones who choose a spot at the back that won't block other people's view. 

I am not here to defend the ones that set up at 6am and then head back to their air-conditioned holiday apartment to have brekkie with the smug satisfaction that they snagged a prime spot (this is akin to baggsing pool chairs and heading to the breakfast buffet, and I am campaigning for this to be a jailable offence). 

My family's setup at the back of the beach (yes, I blurred their faces so the non-cabana owners don't come after them). Image: Supplied.

But back to my beloved cabana(s). 

Yes, they're expensive. Yes, the pressure of setting one up while another family watches you is akin to being asked to say three fun facts about yourself in a team-building meeting. 

But that two-by-two metre patch of shade is so bloody worth it. 

Especially when you throw kids into the mix who will let you and the whole beach know about it the second they feel the slightest bit of discomfort. 

Can you imagine driving for 1.5 hours to the nearest beach, paying $24 for parking and then your toddler throws a hissy fit because you won't "turn the sun down"? I can. It happened to me. And I could hear my father's voice in my mind sighing, 'you should've taken the Cool Cabana'.

But there is one point of contention that it seems no one has come up with the perfect rule for: the moving shade.

So, I've attempted a mini-etiquette guide that I think we can all agree on to prevent a cabana catfight with the silly little towel dwellers.

1. When you set up, if you choose a spot that then shades someone next to you, they get to keep that shade. Tough luck — you should've got your sun dial out if you wanted to keep it that badly. You can't make them move if they were already lying there.

2. You cannot bags a spot with a cabana and leave the beach (yes, you can go in the water or go pee at the toilet block. Don't be dramatic.)

3. Minimum two people per tent if it's a super busy beach, they are not a one-person zone.

4. If you happen to see me at a beach trying to set up a cabana, no you didn't. The new ones are better than those magical ones you need to fold and twist down into a little bag, but still. Look away, I beg you.

5. I know a lot of beaches get cramped, but try not to set up directly in front of someone. It's like a blue-and-white-striped flag to a sweaty bull. Please don't give us all a bad name.

Even Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has weighed in on the cabana debate. His take? "Every Australian is equal" on the beach.

@sydneymorningherald Australians have been calling out the practice of beachgoers setting up their 'cool cabanas', leaving the beach, then returning later in the day. Now, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has weighed in. #coolcabanas #beachcabana #sydneybeaches ♬ original sound - Sydney Morning Herald

But we're not equal, are we Albo? 

Us cabana users are cooler (literally in temperature, but also vibes.)

We're more smug (sorry, you know we are. It's okay). 

We're also being more sun-safe, which is obviously the main benefit (see earlier reference to me being paler than an Elizabethan ghost). 

And, if you're really honest with yourself about your little peasant towel, you're just a little bit jealous you don't have one already set up for you (we really need to adopt the European way).

So viva la cabana (just don't be a dick about it). 

Feature image: Supplied/Getty.