A PLEA FOR AKAROA.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 129, 29 October 1874, Page 3

A PLEA FOR AKAROA.

From a correspondent of the Press,

Beautiful, sunny, lovely, little Akaroa. So I thought of you as I lay basking under the shade of your soft-breathing manukas. What a future is before you, and what a mine of untold wealth has yet to be developed around your magnificent harbor. And as I lay thinking and carrying back my recollection of this sweet little town some fifteen or twenty years, I could not help asking myself, why should it continue to bear the somewhat contemptible title of “ little ?” Why are its people so sleepy, and so apathetic in their efforts to improve this most delightful of all seaside residences ? Why has not some one of your earnest men risen up ere this to assert its right to consideration ?

I thought to myself as I lay dreaming, that if I were a legislator, a councillor, a .secretary for public works, or a superintentendent, how earnestly would I fight your

battle—how vigorously I would strive to elevate this sweet spot to a more dignified position. And really, there is nothing more easy, and nothing, if we will fairly think it out, more feasible. Every visitor to Akaroa, even if a visitor of a few hours, knows pretty nearly as much of its harbor as I might feel disposed to write of it, even if I were to fill the columns of this paper. Its deep waters, its sheltered character, and its easy access, its vast capabilities for ships of the largest tonnage, its smooth and peaceful waters—all these are things so well and so universally known as to need no comment. And as 1 lay dreaming I hear the buzzing voices of some other dreamers humming of a railroad to Christchurch, and it reminded me of the story of poor Pat the laborer, who, when about to start on a journey, was invited to buy a very elegant portmanteau to put his clothes into, “Ah,” says Pat, “sure and would you wish me to go naked.” The railroad is now to Akaroa like the portmanteau to Pat, it is infinitely beyond his necessities, and much too ornamental and expensive a luxury, seeing how largely he stands in need of other material things. Well, every visitor knows how entirely little Akaroa is subdivided —how completely one side of its beautiful little town is severed from the other, and of the large bay which stands between them. Then, as I lay thinking, I thought to myself if I was one or other of these magnates I have alluded to if above all things, 1 was a Public Works, how I would immortalise myself by filling up this bay ; how I would run a sea wall from end to end, and form a beautiful esplanade ; how I would fill this reclaimed land with beautiful buildings—banks, and stores, and warehouses, and bonded stores; how I would form beautiful terraces on the hill side, with lovely family residences looking over these hives of busy industry upon the beautiful bay beyond—and I dreamed and dreamed until at last the idea became so grafted in my mind that at length I came to the conclusion it was no visionary idea at all, but that jit was, in fact, an easily to be attained alteration, and which lacked only energy and perseverance to accomplish. The cost, I considered, was not an obstacle. Eight thousand pounds would fill up this bay, would reclaim some 20 or 25 acres of land, and the whole of this would be sold upon your paper plans alone, long before the completion of the work, at from £IOO to £SOO per quarter acre. Is this not margin enough for profit ? There are no difficulties in the way of its accomplishment. At low water you may walk from end to end over the very line of the contemplated sea wall, without soiling your boots. You have towering over your head a huge mound of earth and rock, sufficient to fill in the whole space, and experience of the Lyttelton Harbour work has shown us that we can by a huge blast of say 100 barrels of powder loosen the whole or nearly so, and so reduce the work to the merest “ shovel and barrow work.” I went on dreaming, and I thought that I could see a way by which I could relieve the anxiety of a parental Provincial Government (and they are particularly parental when on the eve of death) in regard to the employment of immigrants. I thought to myself that instead of fretting and fuming, and building huts and houses, and incurring all sorts of expenses for their present comfort, here was a fine chance for the immediate employment say of from 150 to 200 men with the pick and the shovel; —that in three years the work would be accomplished;— that in the meantime I would abandon all idea of constructing an absurd new jetty at a large cost, where no jetty is required ; that I would abandon all idea of throwing good money into the sea by patching up a useless tumble-down old jetty, which now disgraces my beautiful little Akaroa ; that I would at once commence the construction of a new one running from the rocks in front of “ dear old Jemmy’s” store to a point at least 60 or 100 feet further into the bay than the present old. tub—that I would run a horse tiamway along the Esplanade—to connect the extreme end of the Aylmer Quay with this new jetty, and that, in fact, I would thus so alter the character and the appearance of my lovely little bay that its dearest friend should not know it. I would raise it up to the position of a town of commercial importance, worthy of its beautiful surroundings. Then I strolled along its beach and looked at its public domain, and I bethought me why not prepare this too “for the comfort of my people.” That I would drain the sides of this delightful walk, that I would provide comfortable seats for weary pedestrians, that I would form a nice broad terrace with grassy slopes. I thought too that it would be a graceful return for the sweet and smiling faces which are so frequently seen in “lovely little Akaroa,” if we enclosed a sizeable piece of water for their quiet enjoyment in bathing—where they may bask in safety, without fear of a dog-fish approaching their lovely little toesee-toesees.

And finally I thought I saw when these things were done, and the tone of public feeling of Akaroa altogether changed—that Akaroa should be so raised in public estimation—that Akaroa should then become the seat of government of the colony, and that its beautiful harbor should be filled with the ocean mail steamers, that its commerce should increase a million fold, that its people should be wealthy and wise, and ever grateful for all this wonderful change, and then I thought that we might look forward to the railway, not as a possible thing in the next century or two, but as a thing of the utmost need, and therefore certain of immediate accomplishment. And then I fell ASLEEP.