It's tourism—phase two

Pacific tourism now seems to be entering its second phase—that of residential land development for semi-permanent foreigners, as distinct from the accommodation of transient visitors who stay a few days or a few weeks.

As the first phase of tourism has not been completely digested in the Islands and, in the majority of them, can be said to have scarcely got going, this second de velopment simply leaves most islands residents agape and speech less. Some, however, have voiced concern and, I think, with reason.

Like the early efforts to attract tourists to the Pacific, the new land development schemes appear to be directed mainly at Ameri cans, especially Americans fleeing from what other Americans have already done to such places as Hawaii and the nearer West Indies.

No one of my generation who lived in this part of the world in 1942-45 could be anything but pro-American. Nonetheless, in my book, the greatest despoilers of their environment are Americans.

They are the people who light up Niagara Falls with coloured lights and use its water to generate one of the world’s greatest in dustrial complexes; they are the people whose off-shore and on shore oil drilling has despoiled the beaches of California. On the tourist front, they are the people one meets in thousands —no millions—in Hawaii, Mexico and the West Indies, rolling the original structures out flat and substituting th e middle - class American dream of skyscraper hotels, business conventions and package tours.

It is difficult to see Hog Harbour, even rechristened with a melodious name, in the same category as say Nassau, capital of the Bahamas. Yet, we are told, the people of New Providence, the scrawny, sandy island on which Nassau stands, once did nothing more spectacular than grow tomatoes for Canada and gather sponges from the clear water.

Probably, at that stage, the Bahama administration talked about “safeguards” and the desir-

Now, of course, the Bahamas live by selling bits of the islands to foreigners, entertaining several million tourists a year and pro viding a convenient accommoda tion address for international companies. They make no other contribution to the world at large.

Tourism, in places, has benefited millions by raising living stan dards. But, uncaged, it can be come a monster that eats its own young, especially in small terri tories with neither the size nor population to withstand its more pervasive aspects.

It is also a seductive monster.

Five years ago, territories like Western Samoa and the Cook Islands were making anti-tourism noises. Now they want to get on the gravy-train, too. Tourism is part of Western Samoan de velopment policy and the plans for the Cooks seem designed to turn Rarotonga into some sort of South Seas Coney Island.

Those people who see what’s going on at present as the thin end of the wedge, may take com fort from the fact that Fiji and the New Hebrides are a long way from the United States and that, at present, there aren’t enough Australians, wealthy enough, to set up commuter colonies in the neighbouring islands.

What’s more, great plans bor rowed from somewhere else have often turned out to be fizzers in the South Pacific.

Two aspects of present develop ments are interesting. Of the Hog Harbour project in the New Hebrides it’s said that “it will pro vide work for New Hebrideans”.

I’ve been under the impression that the NH suffers an acute labour shortage going right back before the 1930’5.

In Fiji, of course, we’ve been treated to a song-and-dance for years about land-hunger and the necessity for producing more in order to cut down imports. It’s a switch in thinking to use good agricultural land to provide seasonal retreats for the well heeled foreigner although, for the owner, an acre of housing un doubtedly will return a great deal more than an acre of coconuts. —

Judy Tudor.