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Onloading goods in Nukunonu
© AFP/File

Whichever Tokelaun atoll you arrive at -- Atafu, Nukunonu or Fakaofo -- the routine is the same. There is no port so you wait for a barge to push its way through the gap in the reef and pull alongside.

On shore, standing in the shade of the coconut trees, are Tokelauans waiting for returning relatives, mail or stores to refill the shelves of the village store.

Last month Tokelau nearly became one of the world's smallest self-governing states. A state without a capital, airport, cars, television and where village chiefs take turns at being the national leader for a year.

With only around 600 registered voters, February's referendum on self-government fell short by about 30 votes for the required two-thirds majority. For a while longer Tokelau will continue to be a colony of New Zealand, as it has been for the last 80 years.

Atafu, Nukunonu and Fakaofo are picture-perfect South Pacific atolls. Pollution-free lagoons -- the largest covering 98 sq km -- are surrounded by a total of 128 mostly uninhabited coconut palm-covered islets with a total land area of just 12.2 sq km.

Tokelau
© AFP/Graphics

Isolation is a double edged sword for the 1,500 Tokelauans who live on the three atolls. There is even only limited contact between the atolls, which lie in a 160-kilometre (100-mile) arc about halfway between New Zealand and Hawaii.

The only inter-atoll transport is the fortnightly shipping service from Apia as there is no safe anchorage for a ship to be based in Tokelau.

Isolation means no fast way out in a medical emergency, virtually no tourism and minimal economic opportunities. But it also means the unique Polynesian language and culture remain strong and the problems of crime, urban sprawl and traffic snarls remain over the vast horizon.

Traditional communal values hold sway, and although around 10,000 Tokelauans live overseas, mostly in New Zealand, a good few decide to return after life in the fast lane.

"There is no other place I can catch a yellowfin tuna 100 metres from home," says Mika Kalolo, 31, a government employee who went to school and worked in New Zealand for many years before returning home to Atafu, the northernmost atoll.

To an outside eye, Tokelauans have a precarious if persistent hold on life.

The three villages are situated on islets protected from the prevailing wind, and on the smallest village islet of Fakaofo, houses are crammed cheek by jowl.

Fishermen in Tokelau
© AFP/The Southland Times/File Bill Morris

There is little water except for rainwater held in large storage tanks beside or underneath the houses. Traditional open sided fales, or huts, have given way to concrete and timber clad buildings, which will not blow away during the frequent cyclones.

The houses may look western from the outside but in the traditional Pacific way usually consist of one large room inside. Tokelauans have a different concept of privacy from westerners.

Most of the islets have little or no soil and apart from the odd isolated plot where bananas, breadfruit and a type of taro can be grown, few crops can be harvested except from coconuts.

Pigs and chickens are raised, although on crowded Fakaofo, the pigs are housed on an area of exposed reef and root around in the shallows for food.

Each atoll has a couple of police officers but they have little to deal with other than occasional drunkenness, the odd fight and family disputes.

There is no prison and most offenders get a telling off from the village council of "grey hairs" or elders. More serious crimes might result in an order to do extra community work such as crushing 50 buckets of coral for the village pathways or house arrest in extreme cases.

Each atoll has a truck and the odd motorbike and the closest thing to a rush hour is the unhurried procession of Sunday worshippers to the sturdy churches, which dominate the village skyline.

A ballot box arrives in Atafu
© AFP/File Richard Simpson

Traditional communal values remain strong in stark contrast to modern societies and the readjustment can be difficult after living in New Zealand.

"When I came back after getting used to luxury five star living in New Zealand for 11 years, it was a culture shock for me in terms of privacy and sharing, returning to communal facilities and activities," says Mika Perez, a 45-year-old government official on Nukunonu atoll.

"But I feel I have something to offer and would like to help my people. I'm very passionate about this place because I'm the eldest in my family and my parents expected me to stay and carry on the family."

Tavita Gaualofa, 35, is one of 10 brothers, seven of who live in New Zealand or Australia, feels a similar responsibility.

"My brothers say I should go and work in New Zealand and earn money there. But I say to them you can earn money in New Zealand but I love life in Tokelau, it suits me.

"That was the way my parents lived and they passed that on to me, ways of sharing."

The men regularly go fishing together and everyone in the village gets a share of the catch when they return. When a house needs to be built or fixed, everyone chips in.

A view of Atafu lagoon
© AFP/Dominion Post/File Michael Field

Women work together weaving mats, hats, bags and fans from pandanus leaves as gifts for guests or sometimes for sale overseas.

But island life can be difficult for some. A girl, aged about 13, explains she has returned to Fakaofo with her family after years living in New Zealand. "It's boring," she says gloomily.

Slowly some of the commercial values of the outside world are creeping into Tokelau and some are starting up small businesses.

Gaualofa, who runs the radio station on Fakaofo, also has a small business with his wife selling soft drinks.

"People now compete with each other to develop themselves," he says.

Perez agrees the communal lifestyle will recede as it has in other parts of the world.

"I believe it will change, there will be more development and communal activities will fade away and individualism will creep in."

But it is hard to imagine Tokelau changing radically anytime soon. It has few sources of income except for fishing licences for foreign tuna boats and a small income from postage stamps and handicrafts.

New Zealand funds most of Tokelau's budget and the other main source of income is remittances from those living overseas.

According to economic orthodoxy, Tokelau is not a going concern but it is also a place which remains unique in an increasingly homogenised world.

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