“It started as a gag,” says Vanessa Kennedy, standing in the middle of a road in rural New Zealand.
Local government reform is usually the preserve of political nerds, but the beginnings of the Republic of Whangamomona are an exception.
“We’re in Taranaki [region] but in 1989 the powers that be decided because our water runs into the Whanganui River that we should be part of the Manawatu region,” says Kennedy.
People were aggrieved to learn they would have to pay for regional services to the distant Manawatu-Whanganui district, whose facilities are some four or so hours away by road, instead of Stratford, just over an hour away.
“We were not very happy about being taken out of Taranaki so we rebelled,” says Kennedy, who is chair of the Republic Committee.
“At the pub here one night a few of us got together and decided no, we’re going to become a republic.”
The village, which has a population of 21, with some 150 in the local district, has its own passport complete with stamp, flag, border post and president.
It is in the North Island’s Taranaki district and local rates are paid to Stratford, but the regional rates, for services such as land management and pest control, are paid to Manawatu.
“We wanted to pay all our rates to Taranaki because we use all Taranaki facilities,” says Kennedy.
The remote village was founded as a byproduct of the logging industry in the late 19th century. The short main street still has many of its original buildings, some of which would not look out of place in the American Old West, including the Whangamomona Hotel, its flagship establishment.
It is a five-hour drive from Auckland, just under two hours from the nearest hospital.
Those travelling along state highway 43, known as the Forgotten World Highway, can pass through the town and can get their passport stamped.
While the Whangamomona district residents’ actions were initially born out of protest, the tradition of the Republic Day continues.
Over time, the once annual, now biennial, event grew to become a major draw for locals and tourists. Stalls line the main street selling local crafts and goods while sheep shearing, possum skinning and whip-cracking lessons are just a few of the activities and demonstrations on offer.
Jay Will, whose stall sells handmade Nepalese wool clothes, has attended Republic Day celebrations for 10 years.
“It’s a lovely place, very friendly, middle of nowhere, that’s the whole fun about it.”
As well as being a lightning rod for community spirit and showing off the multiple facets of rural life, the Republic Day celebrations benefit in practical ways, in part thanks to it being a popular domestic and international tourist destination.
“All the money goes straight back into the community to give everybody what they need,” says Kennedy. Funds have been spent on defibrillators, schools and local sports teams.
Apart from the sheep race, where a lucky ticket buyer can win up to 15 New Zealand dollars, the day’s main event is the election of a new president to represent the republic.
Barman George, who works in the hotel, is originally from the Czech Republic and lives in the old post office next door which also serves as the town’s “Czech embassy”. He is on the ballot next to incumbent John Herlihy, whose great grandfather was from Castleisland, Co Kerry. Also up for election are an assumedly imaginary unicorn and a rooster.
Herlihy is returned to office for, as he recalls, “the third or fourth time”.
George comes in a close second, with the rooster garnering a respectful 192 votes. The unicorn is nowhere to be seen.
During his acceptance speech on the back of flatbed lorry outside the hotel, Herlihy assures the crowd that there will be no need for a coup during the transition between terms.
In his first post-count interview with foreign media, he tells The Irish Times of his plans for his new term, during which he wants to “look after the locals, look after the tourists and tell a few stories” and hopefully revisit his ancestral home in Kerry.
“I’ll come down any night and have a beer with anybody,” he says.
“There’s always somebody arriving. If it’s not a local, it’s a tourist. I love talking to them and listening to their stories.”
