Norfolk Island Has Its Troubles.

Captain Pinney’s Big Task.

From Our Own Correspondent.

Norfolk Is., May 25.

BY the “Morinda,” to-morrow, homeward bound to Sydney, Colonel Alfred Josiah Bennett—for the past three years our Administrator— departs this island.

Several private entertainments have been given to take leave of him, but there has been nothing mooted in the nature of a public farewell.

Captain C. R. Pinney, late of Papua, takes up office as Administrator, and we have the most hopeful anticipations of his reign; but what this island really needs as governor or whatnot is a hardbitten retired police magistrate who would come and make and maintain a reputation for cold, calculating justice; who, having the law at his fingertips, would administer it without fear or favour; and who would be satisfied to have no friends, until he won us all as friends by the unswerving honesty of his purpose.

Such a man was Judge Herbert, who preceded Colonel Bennett, and lived amongst us only eight months, during which time he was handicapped by the illness that killed him in January, 1929.

His glance alone was sufficient to strike terror into the heart of the evildoer, while behind it was a depth of genuine kindliness that encouraged those oppressed to come to him with

hope and confidence. How many hundred times, since he died, has it been said here, “If only Judge Herbert had lived . . . !” Those words are his monument on Norfolk Island.

Progressive Policy Needed.

If our administration were less costly, there would be a balance from the sum allocated each year for the upkeep of the island, for real and essential improvements; as conditions have been for three years past, at all events, it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that not £100 per annum has been profitably spent on anything that can be regarded as conducive to general prosperity and welfare.

Repairs and alterations have been made to the private residences of government officials and paint has been applied to public buildings at a wonderful outlay of time and money; but sheds on the wharves for the protection of incoming and outgoing cargo are still conspicuously wanting, and the lack of them is a most serious handicap to the progress and prosperity of the island. We have only one post office, too; set down in what is, to many people, the most remote and inaccessible corner of the island; to reach Kingston from the outlying districts entails the loss of a whole day, the expenditure of gallons of petrol on our winding up-hill-anddown-dale roads and endless hanging around and waiting for mail—the distribution of which is subject to the most arbitrary restrictions of hours and conditions.

If there were a sub-office situated somewhere in the centre of the

island—attached, as it may be, to one of the stores—where there would always be somebody to hand over mail at any hour of the working day, to take in parcels and sell money orders, it would be a blessing, a relief to the whole community. As it is, there are certain hours of certain days only, when—regardless of weather conditions—if we want our rare mail, incredibly precious to us in exile, we must render ourselves at the Kingston post office and, after securing our letters at the counter inside, stand in a patient queue beneath the scorching sun or drenching rain along the side wall of the building waiting for papers and parcels to be handed out through a doorway and a window.

Along this side wall there is not an inch of shelter—until recently there was not even a guttering along the iron roof, and the water poured upon us on a wet day in a sort of continuous waterspout. That extreme of hardship has now been remedied, but we still scorch or soak and, in spite of repeated pleas, not even the sum of £5 has been granted for the purpose of erecting a simple shelter along that side wall.

It is this kind of contemptuous indifference on the part of well-paid officials, whose own mail reaches them immediately upon the arrival of the steamer as they sit snugly within doors, that arouses the deepest resentment in the breasts of the community, whose existence upon this island renders possible those well-paid, easy posts.

There are many other necessities and reforms of equal and increasing importance to the island as a whole that have, hitherto, been simply put aside and ignored month after month, year after year; and it is earnestly hoped that Captain Pinney will realise this state of affairs and meet public bodies and all sections of the community without delay, and make an attempt to lay out something like a constructive and progressive policy for his three years’ term of office.

He will be a busy man if he takes in hand all that urgently needs to be done; but his reward will be in popularity and appreciation; and it will surely be a satisfaction to Canberra, in these times of financial stress, to know that money is being expended wisely and salaries paid out are being earned.

And, seeing that private suggestions and recommendations fall dead upon the doorstep of local officialdom concerned to give ear and consideration, here is a suggestion made to this correspondent of broadcasting in public print the feasibility of erecting buildings for the general benefit, at no more than the actual cost of the materials used.

There is no system of taxation by cash upon the island, but all ablebodied male residents between the ages of 21 and 50 years are called upon to give 15 days' service on the roads, which double and twist and turn in all directions. Many of these men are skilled tradesmen—builders, carpenters, plumbers, etc.

Why not use their 15 days per annum to keep in order existing buildings or to construct new ones, in stead of turning them out upon the roads, with unskilled labour, to handle shovels and mattocks, that only call for strength and ordinary intelligence.