As I flew toward the Tiwi Islands, an Aboriginal Community 80 kilometres north of Darwin, I dared to ask the pilot if he was willing to hand me control of the small aircraft.
Surprisingly he nodded and as he let go of his wheel I nervously grabbed the one in front of me.
Suddenly I was filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation – feelings, I was to later realise, gave me an insight into the Tiwi people as they attempt to wrest back control of their own culture and destiny.
My five day journey to discover the practical realities of life for a Catholic priest living in an isolated community would introduce me to, not only an amazing example of the sacrifice and dedication of missionaries past and present, but also to a race of people living precariously on a spiritual, cultural and social precipice, trying desperately to preserve the bridge between their past and present.
The Tiwi community hold firmly to their identity as a people distinct from mainland Aboriginals, but today they are facing unprecedented challenges as they try desperately to interweave the tsunami of western influence with their rich and proud past.
The Tiwi islands consist of eleven islands, but the entire population of 2500 inhabit only the largest two, Bathurst and Melville.
My time there is spent in Wurrumiyanga (formerly known as Nguiu) which lies on the southeast corner of Bathurst island, the original site of the Catholic mission established by French priest, Fr Francis Xavier Gselle in 1911. It is now the largest settlement on the islands, with a population of 1500.
I alternate my time between shadowing the energetic and effervescent Fr Peter Van Huan Nguyen, who, like Fr Gselle and most of the missionaries since, is a member of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, and wandering through town meeting local Tiwi people.
I also met several of the ten percent of the non-Tiwi population who are involved in educational, welfare and government and non-government agencies supporting the community in their efforts to adapt to the modern invasion.
It is an experience that provides me with a broad perspective, not only of the complex tapestry of this community, but of the wide-ranging opinions about its future.
There is a cultural richness that is still well and truly alive, as I discovered when I spent time each day with a group of elderly Tiwi women.
I watched them weave baskets and listened to them share tales of their past in the Catholic mission and was fortunate enough to discover aspects of their traditions as I accompanied them into the bush in search of materials and dyes for their baskets.
However, living alongside their cherished memories is an escalating sense of hopelessness they see in the generations coming after them. It is a burden that weighs heavily.
The Tiwi islands remain a paradise in themselves, covered with a mixture of thick, untouched forests, costal palm trees, mangrove swamps, long stretches of white sandy beaches, picturesque billabongs and an abundance of flora, fauna and animal life.
However, as with the crocodiles who lurk menacingly below the surface of the surrounding shoreline and estuaries, one does not have to look too deeply to recognise the social dangers confronting this once semi-nomadic society.
Prefabricated housing lines the littered main street which is the hub of social activity and interaction.
The day of my arrival coincides with the distribution of Centrelink payments and numerous groups gather under trees to shelter from the sweltering weather of the wet season and gamble on cards.
Women and men play in separate groups, while teenagers gather on porches and children and a large number of unhealthy looking dogs wander aimlessly along the street or around the supermarket.
Gambling is a problem for many local people but alcohol and marijuana dependence has taken an even greater toll on the Community, contributing to the Tiwi Islands receiving the unenviable label as the “suicide capital of the world” in 2005.
This reputation was given global coverage when journalists from the British newspaper The Guardian visited the island at the peak of its social turmoil in 2006 to investigate the disproportionately high level of attempted and completed suicides.
Numerous programs and policies, such as prohibiting the sale of full strength alcohol and the protective barriers around all telegraph poles to inhibit hangings, jumpings and electrocutions, have since been successfully adopted by local and state authorities to curtail the devastation, but the social and cultural ramifications of substance abuse still remain entrenched within the community.
During a parliamentary inquiry in February 2012, the CEO of the Tiwi Shire Council, Alan Hudson and several councillors, emphasised the devastation caused by marijuana addiction, which, according to police estimates, affected 80 per cent of the community. It has lead to increased break-ins, they said, and it was not uncommon for up to 150 young children to be wandering the streets at 3 or 4am.
It is an outlook that can cause pessimism amongst those who have come to the islands in an attempt to make a positive impact.
One teacher I spoke with told me that attendance at school was often less than 50 per cent and the lack of discipline at home was often reflected in classroom demeanour. His view of the future was a grim one.
However there are also those I spoke with who look to the future with a sense of optimism.
They point out the positive work of Tiwi Enterprises, a Council of traditional land owners made up of members of the eight clans living on the island.
Tired of the welfare dependence that has infiltrated the community since Federal Government changes in the 70s, they are wanting to create local enterprise and economic self-sufficiency.
Projects in forestry and fish farming, as well as the establishment of a small shopping complex currently under construction are all pointing to a future that is not connected to government reliance.
It is an attitude mirrored by Tiwi politician, Francis Kurrupuwu, the Member for Arafura.
In his maiden speech in the Northern Territory Legislative Assembly in October 2012 he proclaimed his desire to see Aboriginal people grow strong and independent through education and training which, in turn, would lead to increased employment and the establishment of businesses.
Too much dependence on government welfare, he said, had weakened Aboriginal communities.
“Ways need to be found quickly for stronger decision making at the local level in Arafura to include our own voice and responsibilities”, he told the Assembly.
Visiting the island as a journalist working for a Catholic newspaper I was initially cautious about the attitude I would find toward the Church.
When Fr Gsell first stepped ashore in 1911 there were only a handful of white people living on the island hunting buffalo, but his influence had long term ramifications on the Tiwi people and their culture.
Within 15 years of locals spotting a “white man with long whiskers” walking along the beach, there were 80 adults and 46 children living in the Catholic Mission and the erection of permanent housing began soon after.
Several other smaller missions were eventually established across both Bathurst and Melville Islands and by the 1950s there were separate schools for boys and girls and a hospital in Wurrumiyanga.
By 1970 there were five priests, 10 brothers, 30 sisters and 52 lay-missionaries and a peaceful and workable co-existence between the Catholic and Tiwi culture had been established.
Fr Gselle’s attitude of “always try to be of friendly co-operation” seemed to be the foundation for all future missions and the interweaving of traditions, at least according to my basket weaving ladies, was mostly harmonious.
Evidence of this enculturation can be found in the Tiwi artwork decorating the sacristy of the main church and throughout the more recently built outdoor church as well as a blending of language, song and dance within sacramental celebrations.
The basket women are mainly positive about their Catholic experience and most of them still attend Mass regularly, but they lament the steady erosion of tradition that has occurred over the past two generations.
The consensus amongst those I spoke to, both the older Tiwis and those who have come to the islands to work alongside them, is that the continuing demise of ancient tradition has not come through the Church but, as experienced by many cultures throughout the world, via the influences of western culture.
Although there would have been the inevitable difficulties of adjustment throughout the Church’s history on the islands, the greatest challenge seems to have evolved from the 1970s introduction of welfare. Suddenly, the Tiwi people no longer had to rely on working within the Mission to supply their needs and many took this opportunity of financial independence to move away from the Church.
With this came an influx of influences that began a rapid corrosion of both Tiwi and Catholic culture. Alcohol and marijuana use and high unemployment rapidly increased and domestic violence, crime and breakdown of family networks soon followed.
The demise climaxed in the tragic suicide epidemic leading up to 2005.
The more recent introduction of mobile phones and access to diversions such as Facebook have also radically altered social cohesion amongst the younger generations.
Sr Anne Gardiner, who has witnessed many changes since she first arrived in 1953, is astounded at the influence of modern technology.
She said that abusive comments made on facebook have, at times, led to hundreds of hostile family members gathering on the main street to argue.
Local authorities have even banned the sale of phones from the local shop, but the regular avenues of transport that exist today, both boat and plane, ensure that the buffer of isolation that once protected these islands is long gone.
There is no way to hide from mainland influences.
For thousands of years the Tiwi people kept external intrusions at bay and were able to live lives of total self-reliance, however over the last century this unique community has continuously found itself at the crossroads of cultural, social and spiritual change.
There is definitely a sense of trepidation hanging over this community as they try to untangle themselves from the web of welfare dependence, socially destructive influences and spiritual decline, but it is tinged with the excitement of potentially returning to a state of self-sufficiency.
There will undoubtedly be many challenges ahead as they move into unfamiliar territory and attempt to regain control of their own destiny.
However while the Church remains and is lead by the dedication of men and women, beginning with Father Gselle and continuing today through the sacrificial lives of Sr Anne and Fr Peter, I am left with a sense of hope.
This is a community that has been rapidly infiltrated and corroded by the ills of a secular society geared toward self gratification – a concept that is the antithesis of the communal and family centred tradition of this proud people.
The greatest challenge for the Church today on these islands, is no longer a cultural battle, but a spiritual one.