FRONTERA, Calif., Jan. 1 — Despite their petitions and pleas, three young women remain isolated in California’s only remaining death row. Their heads shaved in protest, they call themselves “nuns.” To others, they are still known as “the Manson girls.”

Susan Atkins, 24, Patricia Krenwinkel, 25, and Leslie Van Houten, 23, convicted with Charles Manson nearly two years ago in the Sharon Tate murders, have begged to be housed with other prisoners.

Instead, they remain in three tiny green cells in a drab building on the sprawling women’s prison here.

Their jailers say the women are “unique prisoners” and, despite abolition of the death penalty, they will be kept indefinitely in the death row, where they were placed April 28, 1971.

“They have caused us no problems since they’ve been here,” says Virginia Carlson, superintendent of the California Institution for Women here, but she adds, “We want to get them to develop some strengths and values before they go into the prison population.”

Officials also say they are concerned about public pressure and fears that if the women ever tried to escape it would create bad publicity.

Manson himself, plus two male members of his clan also condemned to death, were quietly moved to general prison populations this fall when San Quentin’s death row was closed. Prison officials still receive letters demanding harsher punishment for the clan.

Since their sentences were reduced to life imprisonment, Miss Carlson says the women have been given new programs to occupy them — arts and crafts including crocheting, correspondence courses from a college with a teacher visiting occasionally and group therapy sessions with a clinical psychologist.

However, attorneys for the women, pushing to have them removed from the death row, say the constant confinement of the three together only perpetuates their dependence on each other — a residue of their days as members of Manson’s wandering clan.

“We’d like to see them interact with people.” says attorney Paul Fitzgerald who represents Miss Krenwinkel. “This is tragic, the three of them tied up together.”

“They have other girls out there who have committed murder,” says Fitzgerald. “Many of them have been in trouble all their lives and would be greater security risks. But they aren’t the ‘Manson girls.’ ”

Miss Carlson concedes that “there are other women who come here who are far more active in their criminal orientation than these three ladies” who are allowed to mingle with other prisoners on the grassy “campus” of the prison, doing jobs assigned to them.

Associate Supt. Ray Koehler, who is in charge of the women’s supervision, cites the fear of possible escape efforts.

But Miss Van Houten’s attorney, Maxwell Keith, notes that the women have made no such tries since they were arrested more than three years ago.

“They;re very institutionalized,” says Keith. “They’d be scared to death to leave the prison now.” He adds, “If there had been no publicity about this case, I’m sure they would have been moved before this.”

“They don’t talk about going home anymore,” says Fitzgerald.

“They talk only about getting out on the campus … They’re sort of resigned to being in prison for a very long time.”

Isolation has depressed Miss Van Houten, Keith says, and she has become painfully thin. The superintendent says she worries about Leslie’s weight and has brought fresh avocados to her to try to stimulate her appetite.

The women’s biggest letdown came this fall, says Miss Carlson, when they appeared before a prison board for a hearing on the matter. “They presented themselves very well,” Miss Carlson says, but were turned down.

In frustration, they returned to their cells and snipped off their hair.

Miss Carlson says of the women’s attitudes. “They are very dependent young ladies. They are very eager to please and they have a tremendous need to be loved.” Their dependency, once aimed at clan leader Manson, has been transferred to the prison staff she says.

There has been only one recent change in the three 7 by 9 foot cells — the removal of three television sets given to the women when they moved in.

“They asked that the TVs be taken out,” says Miss Carlson.

“They felt it was a meaningless use of their time. They wanted to face the reality of where they are.”