Ten Years Have Brought

Drastic Changes In P-Ng

By Gordon Thomas

IT is an understatement to say that on my recent visit to P-NG I was Surprised at Moresby’s growth. I

was flabbergasted!

lln pre-war years Moresby was merely a chief port with a few Gov ernment buildings and commercial Rouses adequate to cope with the more or less small economic out put of the Territory, plus the E40,000-odd doled out by a rather reluctant Australian Government. s But Moresby to-day! Ou la, la! Certainly I saw it only at “steamer time,” but eliminating the “round trip” element that naturally affects Every island port, I was amazed at its growth, its tempo and the gen jral atmosphere of economic activity.

I Whence came this altered tempo ind atmosphere? After an en deavour to find the answer, it seemed to centre on the one reason: Government expenditure, which means a centralised endeavour to disburse public funds for academic institutes and the head quarters of departments appointed to supervise the “great native wel fare policy” which is the popular government job of the moment. In fact; a gigantic spending spree!

I HAD not seen Moresby since the Thirties, and now the change was phenomenal.

I Houses everywhere; houses of a type which I must say were not pleasing to the eye: four walls, and a roof above —iron and fibro for the most part and louvre windows, [ That was the general architec tural scheme. Nothing imaginative; nothing artistic or beautiful to blend in with the beauty of the scene; all standardised; typical nationalised accommodation —and nothing more. . There was life in the town’s centre, certainly: What they were doing I don’t know. But cars and lorries were hurrying hither and thither; the “traffic cop” perched on his box at the intersection of ‘Musgrave and Douglas Streets (and looking for all the world like a

monkey on a stick, as he gesticu lated wildly with his white-sleeved arms) was indeed a busy man, and to him every credit is due. He was as efficient as his opposite number who stands in King and Castle reagh Streets, in Sydney; and. in cidentally, I don’t think he keeps the traffic waiting quite so long! In short he is a gem and a credit to the Force. j was amazed at the anti-segrega- Qn p o u C y as portrayed in the stores and the shops. If native customers were limited to the more sophisticated types, cleanly clothed, it^might be tolerated. (And I wondered if those espousing this n had to conte nd with the m i xe d racial gatherings in the stores, or were they of a class apart?) But to have the more primitive types edging their way amongst European housewives at ii n g er i e counters (and mostly window-buying, at that) does not b y a ny stretch of the imagination appeal to me, nor is it looked upon w ith favour by a majority of Euro-

Seans

Natives themselves complain of a f ee ii ng Q f “shame” at having to mix with “Sinabada” buyers. To me seemed a superfluous step in mo dern native progress drive of which all officialdom seems to be particular iy conscious and with which nobody else is bothering, con £"*6°if **“ arch™?- . Moresby has naturally extended

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(Continued on Page 145)

policy in War 11, it has risen clean and neat and lovely to behold. iThree fine commercial houses stand near the wharf: Buntings, BP and Steamships Trading Co.—all new modern buildings with lavish stocks.

I There is a fairly prosperous back pound to the Samarai district: coconuts, rubber, gold. To me lamarai seems to be the one un alterable South Seas spot in the Krhole of the Territory. rHE Port of Lae. Wharf and roads quite excellent —that is, I the roads from wharf to town l-both parts, uphill and down. For he old Lae-Namanula area has be bme a popular port. Town-planners ippear to have interests in oil com lanies or motor transport! Points I importance are far distant, re luring taxis or cars of some de ception. (This is a facetious re mark, in case it may be misunder food by humourless town-planners.) [The old military roads are still Itant; many old army-type build- Igs prevail; administrative budd ies are dull and sunless; much fergrowth, beautiful as it may be I spots, gives the town an un are d-for appearance. But the pnosphere, generally, is friendly bci congenial. r-E pretty harbour of Madang remains unaltered. Beyond a k doubt it is the most beautiful of .1 ports, with its surrounding tends, its waving coconuts and teenness. fr’he tall, old trees along the road ays still send some creepers down I earth, and little change was [ticeable in the general terrain. [Madang did not suffer overmuch ping the war. New stores and sw buildings are mostly on the old tes.

I loved every moment in Madang. ae scenery and the people were mmiscent of the good old days.

Here there seems, more than in iy other place, a spirit of team )rk, and here I heard many com- Imentary remarks about the Bistant Administrator (Mr. Wil ?'• There seemed to be fewer ips on shoulders, which was good [see. Perhaps it was because ey were an entity on their own; [petty jealousies, and with the owledge they had a prosperous Iterland that gave them economic Surance, plus their own well

ping plantations.

[ shall be glad when I hear that I Coastwatchers’ Memorial Light S , b S ei ] erected and something deluded about the. RSL Club fise.

V our northern bastion at Manus [‘Lnf lve wri tten elsewhere (page

L +2,; Admittedly, my story is

wt. There may be many aspects pur northern naval base which

missed my attention; if so, they were kept from me—and perhaps quite wisely.

But it does seem that this much disputed barrier to northern aggression—if it ever develops— lacks much to give confidence to the Australian people who are, or should be, vitally interested in this portion of Commonwealth defence.

I will leave it at that, with the hope that the debacle of Rabaul in 1942 is not repeated. That was an unhappy page in Australia’s history.

COMING up alongside the partly completed cement wharf at Rabaul gave one the feeling of stability, somehow.

Wide, unbuilt-on spaces nearby suggested sites for future wharf buildings, and it is to be hoped they will be sufficient to cope with bonded cargo—which appears to be a present-day problem in most of the ports of the Territory.

I was simply amazed at the teeming masses of people: Euro peans, Chinese, natives. Cars and buses; lorries and utilities were everywhere and owned by every colour. Rabaul appeared to be on top of a wave of prosperity—a true prosperity, too.

Buildings were rising on almost every vacant block, and in the town proper there were more shops, stores and offices than ever before.

The old beauty had vanished: some of the trees along the streets still remained, but the buildings were unimaginative, merely houses where before they had been homes.

Offices were often dull and drab.

The large stores certainly were worthy of favourable comment.

They held an air of permanence about them.

Chinatown No. 1 was much as of pre-war vintage; Chinatown No. 2 (in Matupi Farm) was a collection of hovel s—but an emergency measure only, and I hope it will be remedied soon.

The Bung (or Native Market) was a huge affair on Saturday morning—four or five times its old size when it was situated down on Kamarere Street. Now it is in a portion of the old Botanic Gardens.

Roads leading out of Rabaul are much the same as in pre-war years: corrugations are rife on the beach road to Kokopo; the top road gives fine travel, no corrugations and some wonderful panoramic views of the harbour.

Providing Matupi doesn’t blow her top I can see no reason at all why Rabaul does not again take her place as the busiest seaport in the South Seas and, with a little imagination of her town-planners of the future, become the most beautiful: always providing she gets a just share of the annual alloca tion for public buildings and ser vices.

Did I note a difference in Rabaul?

This was the 64-dollar question put to me. Considering that Rabaul was a mass of rubble, shell-holes and dug-outs when I left in 1945 well, I ask you! t Denver Museum of Natural History has recently issued a well illustrated Museum Pictorial (No. 10) on the birds of Canton Island, written by Robert Cushman Murphy.

The 78-page bulletin also contains much other useful background in formation on the island.