The Pacific’s Great Hope?

The barge returns to Nukunonu Atoll. [All Photos By Michael Field]

Tokelau, a New Zealand colony that can only be reached by sea from Samoa, might actually be the world's last best hope, the place the purity of the Polynesian environment and culture can remain relevant in the 21st Century without all the compromises the rest of the Pacific has had to deal with.

Its 1,500 residents on the atolls of Atafu, Nukunonu and Fakaofo are not without problems. After all, Tokelauans are people, too.

With Samoa's ferry Lady Naomi looming in the background, this constabulary welcomes passengers ashore with a smile.

Oddly they fly the New Zealand flag proudly. They have no harbor, no airport, no capital and around 8,000 of them live in New Zealand. But it is a matter of international policy that the world doesn't like colonialism any more-even of the most benign kind such as practiced by New Zealand today-and the 600 voters of Tokelau were in February pushed into making a decision on their political future.

Full independence is simply not viable so they were offered "self government in free association with New Zealand"-a model used in Niue and the Cook Islands with doubtful results.

Young Tokelauans express their curiosity at the visiting photographer.

When your culture, society and language have developed in extraordinary isolation and in a precarious environment, it is hardly surprising that Tokelauans are cautious people. They decided a simple majority for self-rule would not be enough; it had to be two thirds.

They came up short, 60 percent, but the outgoing Ulu or Head, Pio Tuia, made to clear this was not the final word and they would be back for another referendum.

"We feel ashamed that we cannot stand up and determine our own future. That really hurts us, we cannot be free men."

He exaggerated in fact; Tokelauans have no reason to feel ashamed. They retain a fierce sense of being people of the Moana, the Pacific, and those of us who finally make it there come away deeply moved by the simplicity and beauty.

Enjoying the festivities on Nukunonu Atoll.

The referendum, conducted under United Nations supervision, was something of an epic led by the Administrator, a dedicated New Zealand diplomat Neil Walter who, more than anybody else, has given the place an identity and character.

The heroic endeavor of the referendum began in Apia, Samoa, where a big chunk of expatriate Tokelauans, around 8,000 of them, now live. Only a handful were entitled to vote and most of them did. After a day of special voting a delegation led by Papua New Guinean Robert Aisi - acting on behalf of the United Nations Decolonization Committee - got aboard the Samoan ferry Lady Naomi for the 36 hour trip north. Walter has done the trip nearly a hundred times, and gets seriously seasick every time. That is dedication.

First call was Atafu, home to 600 people with just 3.6 square kilometers of land spread around a small 17 square kilometer lagoon which is inaccessible to ships. A small flat bottom boat raced out and bought everybody through the reef surf and onto the beach.

There was incredible enthusiasm from everybody on the island, reflected in powerful songs, accompanied by strong beats. The children - at times the whole atoll seemed to be made up of children and just a handful of very old people - all looked happy and healthy.

UN Representative Robert Aisi shares a moment with a Fakaofo police woman.

Lunch was served at one point; fresh smoked tuna, lobster, coconut crab, million dollar salad.

Aisi, who is PNG's ambassador to the UN, was stunned with the food: "This would be a $100 a plate in New York … and that's without the tips."

Next day, after an overnight sail, the delegation got to Nukunonu's 450 people who are all Catholic. The difference showed in the music of welcome and farewell; they were softer, more spiritual and moving, than that on Atafa.

Nukunonu had something else too; a marvelous hotel and bar and one or two tourists. Less said about that the better though, if word got out the world would want to go to Tokelau.

This young Tokelauan heads home to Fakaofo Atoll.

The southern atoll of Fakaofo was the most densely populated and claustrophobic.

But these are a people who have mastered the culture of tolerance and sharing.

Nothing expresses it better than the system of inati. Elders select the communal fishing days and everybody shares the catch.

Tokelau's new Ulu, Kolouei O'Brien, (center) is feted at his installation.

That night they counted the votes; Tokelau rejected self-government. No Tokelauan had been around to hear the outgoing Ulu announce that. Later that night though they turned up for the installation of the new Ulu, Kolouei O'Brien.

"Let us remember and acknowledge our ancestors, our tupena, from whom we inherited this land," he said that lovely night. "They paddled long distances for us to come this day. May their presence be always with us."

No one quite knows what will happen to Tokelau. They said no to self-government and so they remain part of New Zealand. Sadly most New Zealanders have no idea of where Tokelau is, why it is part of New Zealand or who the Tokelauan people are.

Perhaps, in time, they will recognize Tokelau for what it is; one of the finest treasures left in the world today.