MONIQUE CROON

Mayor of the misty isles

Words and image: Bess Manson

Monique Croon fossicks around her parents’ kitchen for leftovers. There’s always something good to eat, she says, bringing out a giant pot of savoury mince which she heats up and tops with freshly laid eggs.

Dripping with rain and splattered with mud from a walk down to Te Whanga Lagoon to look for sharks’ teeth, Croon cuts a pretty casual figure as mayor of the Chatham Islands – Rē kohu in Moriori, Wharekauri in Mā ori.

It’s a part-time gig but fulltime work, she says. No kidding. That remote archipelago 860km east of Christchurch – population around 670 – has a lot going on right now.

There’s the $40 million that funded a 4G network connection, finally bringing cellphone coverage to the Chathams and Pitt Island, though, honestly, it’s still a little sketchy. It also paid for a new museum and council building.

In 2021, during her first term as mayor, Moriori received an $18m Treaty settlement. Another settlement for Ngā ti Mutunga is in negotiation.

It’s been a see-saw term at the helm since she got the top job in 2019, though. Covid saw mainland tourists came to the islands in their droves – the Chathams were the closest thing to an overseas destination with the borders closed. But they lost more than $20m in revenue when the pandemic wrought havoc on their fishing and farming exports.

That’s got to be keep-you-awake-at-night stuff for Croon (Ngā ti Mutunga), who also operates the local hardware and fuel store – like most residents, she holds down a couple of jobs.

Her first term as mayor was a baptism by fire. Croon, 56, says she has three claims to fame: she is the first woman mayor of the Chatham Islands; she was the first woman in the world to get married in the new millennium; she was the first woman to drive a pacer at the island’s annual horse races. She loves the gee-gees.

Here are some other things about her: she’s big on family. Hanging out with Monique Croon means hanging with her family – a ubiquitous lot. On arrival at the Hotel Chathams to chat with her, she’s sipping a chardonnay with her sister Toni, who runs the island’s main accommodation.

Another sister owns the general store up the road in the main town of Waitangi. A brother runs a fishing business and has the best shark tales on the island, having been attacked twice.

She plays netball and touch rugby. She trains horses and races them at the local track. She’s competitive and can think of nothing better than to take the trophy for the pacers this year.

She likes butter. Slathering it into mountainous peaks on Super Wine biscuits in her parents’ kitchen, Croon says this small farm they run is where she finds peace.

Peace; she’s not had much of that lately. The island is just regrouping after being hit by Omicron. When the first lockdown occurred, no-one knew what was going to happen, she says.

But once they were back to alert level 1, the island was fully booked with visitors. There was some concern among locals at the prospect of visitors bringing Covid with them, but keeping their airline operating, keeping up tourism – the second-biggest revenue to the Chathams after fishing – was essential.

Omicron, which landed on March 6, was another matter. ‘‘For two years we had managed to have not one case on the island. When that happened we knew it was going to really escalate. We managed to control the first couple of outbreaks but once we went into the orange setting the numbers increased.’’

She counted at its peak 138 cases. The active numbers were 25 late this week.

It was mainly their rangatahi (young people) getting infected, she says. ‘‘We managed to protect our more vulnerable people.’’

But with a vaccination rate below the mainland’s – 87 per cent with a first dose, 84 per cent second dose and 68 per cent with the booster – she was worried. ‘‘There were people in the community who said, stop the planes, stop the boats. It was really hard for people who were really fearful of the virus, but my thinking was our economy has to keep going. We have to keep operating . . .’’

The hotel pub shut its doors, but is now open again for business. Croon says the islands average about 2000 visitors a year these days.

The fishing industry is back in full swing, which is a relief, she says, given it accounts for 75 per cent of the island’s revenue. At around $120 a kilo for live crayfish on the Chinese market, that’s a big deal for a small island.

Island life suits Croon. It always has. She was born in Auckland and was 9 when she and her family upped sticks for the Chathams in 1976.

Her maternal grandmother was from there but had left as a 16-year-old. Life had been hard as a young Mā ori woman, Croon says.

The move for the Croon family was about a search for a better life. Her mother, Lois, had been working as a waitress at night, her father had worked various jobs. Coming to the Rē kohu – translated as ‘‘misty skies’’ or ‘‘misty sun’’ – was about reclaiming their lives, and finding adventure.

As a kid there was always so much to do and explore, says Croon. ‘‘The people, the mysteriousness of the island – it was fascinating to me. We were out of the house in the morning and all day at the river, the creek or the beach. We were very free.’’

After six months they moved to Pitt Island – population around 100 at the time – where her parents ran a fishing operation.

The supply ship would visit once every six months. For the island’s tamariki that meant lollies and ice cream. ‘‘But we learned to live with none of that stuff. We didn’t care as long as we had a pair of gumboots and some clothes to put on in the morning.’’

They went to a sole-charge school on Pitt. Most of the kids were made up of the Croon contingent and the Gregory-Hunts, another well-known Chatham family.

Like most Chatham Island teens, they were all sent off the island for their high school years. For Croon, who boarded at Epsom Girls’ Grammar in Auckland with her sisters, it was an almost unbearable wrench from the rugged but safe life on Pitt.

‘‘I really struggled. I had been living on Pitt Island with all the freedoms in the world and the next thing I was in Auckland with all these brick walls, and it felt like this terrible prison.

‘‘I thought, ‘what am I doing here?’ I was very homesick for a lot of the time.’’

She went to university and did half a degree before deciding she wanted to be a farmer. Heading to Waiheke Island, she spent six years shepherding.

On a holiday back home she met her future husband; they married at one minute past midnight in 2000. The Chatham Islands is the first to see the sun rise and is 45 minutes ahead of mainland time, which made them the first couple to marry in the new millennium.

Croon, who has two grown sons both living off the island, has since repartnered.

Life on the Chathams used to revolve around the hotel, she remembers. ‘‘Parties could last two or three days, especially during the winter when the weather was rough. That just seemed the normal thing to do.

‘‘Over the years, with the introduction of the changes to the sale and supply of alcohol and the accidents and deaths on the roads, things [had] to change, and they did for the better.’’

She got on the council in 2005 and did her time on just about every committee there was. When she stood for mayor, she was wanting more focus on developing business and services on the island.

Like any council, there is conflict, though the islands still have a hangover of tension from their difficult past.

Conflict is natural, says Croon. There are always going to be underlying differences. ‘‘But it’s important that we accept our differences, and we don’t burn bridges. You make a decision to work alongside each other and that’s key to being able to move forward.

‘‘There are so many things that need to happen in our community, and you can only do that with the co-operation of each other.’’

Those things include having the infrastructure to cope with increased tourism. A burning rubbish dump on the road to Waitangi is testament to the expense and effort to remove waste from these remote islands. For a diesel-dependent economy, there will be difficulties working towards a renewable affordable energy system, but that’s the plan.

They have an old freight ship that needs replacing. There’s a lot to do.

No doubt best contemplated with a pile of butter and biscuits.

‘‘My thinking was our economy has to keep going. We have to keep operating . . . ’’