Stepping off the plane onto the airstrip unwittingly plunges you right into the centre of a bitter dispute that has divided residents and puts them at odds with the Government. For the islanders, the airstrip is their lifeline, but also a symbol of the indifference mainland authorities have shown.

In fact, there are three airstrips across the 720-hectare island. In the south, the avocado orchard has mowed its own landing field, to easily bring in workers.

Everyone else lands on the mailbox airstrip - but that’s privately-owned land, and some residents fear access could be revoked at any time.

The third - called the hapū airstrip - is no longer in use. That’s because a half-constructed house now sits dead-centre in the runway, preventing landing or take off.

The property has been the subject of a long-running legal battle. Both the Environment and High courts have ordered the DIA to remove it. So far, officials have failed to act, the building is half-finished and the airfield, created in 2008 by an island working bee, is growing up around it. Neither can be used.

The mailbox airstrip that Island Air uses to fly in and out of the island. The mailbox airstrip that Island Air uses to fly in and out of the island.

A stoush around the District Plan - the officials’ blueprint for managing the land and future development on Motiti, stretches back to 1995. A developer hoped to build 200 villas and a golf course on the southern end.

The plan was met with horror, and raised questions about how development was regulated.

Graham Hoete says they were “bulldozed” by officials.

“Rather than designing a plan to fit our needs, we were ultimately forced to accept a plan designed to suit the needs of others: the Crown and non-Māori landowners, and to alter the management of our hapū around those others’ needs."

There were more than 500 public submissions on the draft plan in 2012 and none recommended it.

The battle played out in the courts, but was finally implemented in 2016.

Daniel Ranapia moved to his ancestral land on Motiti when he was 18. He grew up in Whakatāne, but rarely returns there.

“It’s a nice, peaceful quiet life [on Motiti]. There is always the sea around. It is freedom, I think you have got more freedoms than you probably would in town - there is not as many people, but for me I like that.”

He lives in the home built by his father, Nepia. It faces inwards, sheltered from the bitter sea winds and look towards the homes of his relatives.

An old tractor sits outside of a house built by Nepia Ranapia. An old tractor sits outside of a house built by Nepia Ranapia.

The place is filled with macadamia nut, banana and citrus trees, bowed with the weight of the fruit. Tame chickens and fantails scratch around underneath.

“We are a long way from the shops, and we try to be as self-sufficient as possible, much as our forebears were,” Ranapia says. In their orchard peaches, feijoa, blueberries, and passionfruit vines grow. He and his father also tend cows, a kūmara and taro patch and seasonal vegetable gardens.

Living on the island is a lot easier with modern technology, such as solar panels for power, and aircraft, he says. But a lack of public infrastructure makes it difficult to earn a living.

“The Crown asserts its authority over Motiti, but has given nothing to the island in return … no aid or effort is given to the development of Motiti or its native inhabitants,” he says. “All the Crown has ever done has been to give our resources away to others - the sea and its resources have always been the mainstay of the Motiti economy, but the commercial fishing industry has plundered [it].

Ranapia wants self-determination rights and adequate resourcing. “The indigenous people of Motiti are expected to give up their rights of self-determination and obey New Zealand law, despite never having ceded their independence and never having agreed to surrender their authority,” he says.

For his father Nepia, the immediate needs of the island are more practical.

Nepia Ranapia believes a breakwater and wharf need constructing on the island. Nepia Ranapia believes a breakwater and wharf need constructing on the island.

“It needs roadways - we need that badly. And a wharf, with a breakwater. We haven’t got a natural harbour so we have to work with the weather and it’s too awkward, too dangerous.

“You can’t have an economy here when you haven’t got the facilities.”

In a statement the Department of Internal Affairs said “there is not one specific hapū or group that we are working with; our desire is to ensure we work with all groups”.

“There is a very small resident population and Motiti Islanders do not pay rates to support the provision of services often provided by local authorities. As such, there is currently no funding available for investing in infrastructure such as roads, water services and wharves on the island.”

“We acknowledge that it hasn’t been an easy road but we are committed to engaging with the residents of Motiti Island and working together to find the opportunities for better outcomes for the island.”

Gloria Hirini was born on Motiti in February 1949, and left aged 15. She married Pat Hirini and with their three children they would return each summer. In 2011, they went back for good. One of her sons and his children also live there.

“My focus is our roads ...during the winter I wouldn’t be able to drive over the roads to get the freight from the airstrip. There has been talk about getting a digger, but it hasn’t happened and our moko continue to fetch rocks and fill the potholes.”

Graham Hoeteis suspicious of plans around developing Motiti Island. Graham Hoeteis suspicious of plans around developing Motiti Island.

Graham Hoete wants the District Plan scrapped. “Motiti Island has survived in the past without such a plan, and there is no reason for this to change.”

Of particular concern is that the plan allows for subdivision in the southern, Pākehā-owned end of the island, while requiring clustering of any further housing in the north around Karioi.

There is a lingering suspicion officials will use the plan to push through tourism and housing developments and turn the southern end of Motiti into the ‘Waiheke of the Bay of Plenty.’

“It is sad what’s happening on the island today; we were such a happy family and now the island is in such a mess,” Kataraina Keepa says.

“So many want to grab a piece of our island and our rohe moana. We just want them to leave us in peace.”