Going bananas from Brexit negotiator to life on a dot in the Pacific
Diplomat Colin Leeman has worked all over the world. But nothing had prepared him for tiny Pitcairn Island, writes Andrea Vance.
The banana has always had a strong flavour in trade and diplomacy. During the Banana Wars of the early 20th century, the United States military toppled regimes and massacred thousands partly to keep fruit business interests intact.
In the 1990s, a six-year trade quarrel between the US and the European Union centred on claims the latter was giving former colonies in the Caribbean special access to its markets. And more recently, the tropical snack has served as a bellwether for bilateral relations between China and the Philippines.
But for Colin Leeman, a seasoned diplomat with two decades serving the British Government, the humble banana was a key: his passport to acceptance into one of the world’s most insular and isolated communities – Pitcairn Island.
Leeman has worked as an envoy in Afghanistan and Ethiopia; wrangled complex free trade deals with New Zealand as Britain divorced from the EU; and won safe passage for stranded Brits after Covid-19 closed international borders.
But harvesting bananas in the South Pacific proved one of his greatest challenges. ‘‘Look at a banana tree!’’ he laughs. ‘‘How do you get them down?’’
It was two of three children – Cushana Warren-Peu and Adrianna Christian – who taught him the secrets of gathering the fruit. ‘‘I had a 13-year-old girl teaching me,’’ he says. That involves felling the entire tree with a machete and catching bunches as it falls to the ground.
It was an afternoon that cemented a bond with the island’s youngest residents. ‘‘It was really lovely to get to know the three children – Cushana, Adrianna and [her sister] Izzy. They’ve taught me so much, about the different fish on Pitcairn, and all the different types of fruit and veg. What is this stuff, and how do I eat it?’’
In return, Leeman – almost 15,000 kilometres from home – taught them phrases and slang from his native Northern Ireland.
The children’s friendship was a key milestone in his acceptance by the island’s 40-strong community. Before long he was celebrating birthdays and the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee, overseeing the making of a giant trifle pudding and the lighting of a beacon.
A dot in the vast Pacific, Pitcairn is best known for its links to the mutiny on HMS Bounty.
An outpost of Britain, it is administered 5000km away in Auckland – with a single representative based in the capital, Adamstown.
The island is autonomous – and the real decision-making power is centred in a council and the mayor (currently Cushana’s mum, Charlene).
Leeman says the day-to-day duties vary. Most of those of working age have multiple jobs, and it is no different for the top official. ‘‘You are the British government’s representative. But also you’re the head of the public service, the Pitcairn Islands Government [GPI]. And you have a number of other odd jobs.’’
One of those is running the court system. A magistrate lives on the volcanic outcrop – but higher court hearings take place in Auckland, with New Zealand judges and lawyers, and the locals dial in with video-conferencing software.
That brings its own challenges. ‘‘I did two Supreme Court hearings while I was there, on land issues. Because the bandwidth isn’t great, you’re turning off the internet to the rest of the island. Apologising on the radio, reminding everyone the internet is going to be turned off from 1pm to 5pm that day.
‘‘[I was thinking] how in my life have I come to the point where I am going: ‘The Supreme Court of Pitcairn is now in session. You may be seated.’
‘‘But although it’s a small territory, it’s really important that it has the trappings of state, and people have access to justice.’’
The hours of business are dictated by the opening times of the only store. ‘‘My busiest days were Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday when the shop is open,’’ Leeman says. ‘‘That’s when lots of the public service choose to do their jobs as well. You can have one meeting with someone that transits through the different jobs they do.’’
One of his tasks was a stocktake of the British government-owned shop. ‘‘Having really wanted a career with Marks & Spencer, it was hilarious to be running it.’’
Other work involved delivering two electric-powered quad bikes and planning to boost the number of solar panels as the island seeks to reduce its reliance on a dieselpowered generator, which runs between 7am and 10pm each day.
There was also planning for a new science centre, to allow for research on Pitcairn’s vast marine reserve.
Navigating all the complex familial relationships drew on all his diplomatic experience. Pitcairn was settled by Fletcher Christian, his fellow HMS Bounty mutineers and their Polynesian wives, and their descendants now make up most of the population.
‘‘Trying to keep that all in your head: the jobs, the family relationships, is a steep learning curve, and then quite amusing. They’re nice about it.’’
Leeman arrived on the island in April, just as it was making the difficult decision to open up to the world after two years of almost complete isolation. Until last week, it was one of the only places in the world with no recorded cases of Covid.
He – along with a doctor and teacher – was one of the first visitors to land. The island is more than 500km, or a 32-hour ocean crossing, from the nearest airstrip.
Leeman sailed aboard the cargo supply ship Silver Supporter, a two-week journey from Tauranga.
Visitors and imports are carried in on longboats, riding the powerful ocean swells that pound the island. ‘‘Normally, you fly into a country and someone from corporate services or your predecessor meets you at the airport with a little sign and off you go in a car.
‘‘On Pitcairn, you’re climbing down a ship you’ve been on for two weeks. And then someone grabs you, and you’re sat down [in the longboat], and then swaying on the quayside as the whole island comes to greet you. It is sensory overload.’’
Leeman was struck by Pitcairn’s Tardis-like dimensions. ‘‘It’s really imposing, and although it’s only two miles by one mile, because of the valleys and cliffs it actually feels so much bigger.’’
As a British trade negotiator and diplomat, he has had many adventures – also working in Iraq, Somalia and the United Arab Emirates, and throughout the UK political system as an adviser.
He arrived in New Zealand to be head of trade policy at the British high commission as officials were beginning to navigate post-Brexit trade relationships.
In his first year, New Zealand’s government changed, and with new ministers came new priorities.
A free trade deal, eliminating all tariffs on New Zealand exports, was agreed last year and inked in February. But midway through the talks, Covid-19 hit and Leeman became responsible for repatriating the hundreds of Brits stuck behind a closed border.
After five years, the Pitcairn mission was a welcome pause from a hectic career. And he says his time there was a highlight.
He embraced the solitude and slower pace of life. Emissaries are housed in a charming villa on a steep hillside overlooking the sea.
After work, he’d spend time walking muddy ridge lines or exploring dramatic coves, including tackling Down Rope, a famously treacherous descent to the only beach, in his first week.
‘‘Just to have three months, with limited internet, no TV, friends, cafes, bars. To just do my job and to read and cook fresh fruit and veg from scratch. I really, really loved all of that.
‘‘I went on lots of walks. You can just take yourself off through the bush and see where you end up. It’s amazing how much fun can be had sitting watching waves, when you switch off all the sounds of the world around you.’’
He jokes: ‘‘I sound like I’ve been on a yoga retreat or something, but it is about finding joy in the moment and what’s going on around you.’’
Leeman is one of only a handful of people who have set foot on all four islands in the group, part of an expedition to Ducie, Oeno and Henderson islands. Locals were carrying out scientific and environmental surveys and picking up plastic rubbish.
‘‘The three children are going to secondary school in New Zealand next year – that generally happens when they get to 12. It will be a different dynamic without the kids. So we really wanted to let them see their islands.
‘‘It was so beautiful – they’ve never really been on sand before because there is none on Pitcairn.’’
The trip was also vital to teach the young adults – Torika, Jayden, and Kimiora Warren-Peu – how to navigate safe passage through the reefs and on to the lagoons. ‘‘They were learning how to access the islands for the future – we needed to train the younger generation,’’ he says.
He took the chance to make a connection between the islands and his homeland. He grew up in Richhill, Co Armagh, close to Tayto Castle, home of a much-loved Ulster snack. Leeman took a bag of the cheese and onion chips to eat on Ducie Island: ‘‘the most remote eating of the best Northern Irish crisps ever’’.
After farewelling New Zealand and getting a haircut last week, Leeman is now on his way back home for a holiday, before a new posting in Cape Town.