The following morning (12th April) exhibited the extraordinary change of climate between the northern and southern sides of the Carpas mountain-range. The average temperature of the week had been at 7 A.M. 57.5 degrees F, 3 P.M. 66.5 degrees. At Morphu the thermometer at 7 A.M. showed 62 degrees, and at 3 P.M. 83 degrees! It was precisely the same on the following day.
It was a distressing contrast to the beautiful Kyrenia and the interesting north coast to have exchanged the green trees and rippling streams for the arid and desolate aspect of the Messaria. The town of Morphu has no special interest; like all others, it consists of houses constructed of sun-baked bricks of clay and broken straw, with flat-topped roofs of the same materials. There are fruitful gardens irrigated by water-wheels, and formerly the extremely rich sandy loam of the valley produced madder-roots of excellent quality, which added materially to the value of the land. This industry having been completely eclipsed by the alizarine dye, Morphu has to depend upon silk and cereals for its agricultural wealth. The population is composed almost entirely of Greeks. There is a monastery and a large school.
I rode to the bay, about four miles and a half distant, passing many villages, which, as we neared the sea, were in the midst of magnificent crops of barley and wheat, resulting from artificial irrigation by the water that percolates beneath the sandy bed of the dry river at a certain level, which has been led into numerous channels before it can reach the natural exit at its mouth. It must be exceedingly unhealthy, as, for several square miles upon the sea margin, the country is an expanse of marsh and bulrushes, abounding with snipe during the winter months. On 13th April I walked over the greater portion of this locality with my three spaniels, but the snipe had departed, and we did not move a bird.
On the right side of Morphu Bay to the east, by Kormachiti, there are extensive sand-dunes, forming deep drifts, which extend for several miles inland at the foot of the hill-range that we had descended. These exhibit the prevailing wind (north). Many people upon observing sand-dunes attribute the most distant limit of the sand to the extreme violence of the wind; but this is not the case. It is the steady prevalence of moderately strong winds that causes the extension of sand-drifts. The wind of to-day deposits the sand at a certain distance from the shore. The wind to-morrow starts the accumulated sand from that depot to form a new deposit about equidistant; and thus by slow degrees the dunes are formed by a succession of mounds, conveyed onwards by an unchanging force; but the maximum power of a gale would be unable to carry thousands of tons of heavy sand to form a hill-range at the extreme distance from the original base of the material. At Hambantotte, in the southern district of Ceylon, there is an extraordinary example of this action, where during one monsoon a range of mounds is formed which might be termed hills; when the monsoon changes, these by degrees disappear, and, according to the alteration in the wind, a range of hills is formed in an exactly opposite direction.
I was glad to escape from Morphu; the wind from the dry plain was hot, and brought clouds of dust. We were surrounded by throngs of people during the day, many of whom were blind, including young children. The 13th April was the Greek Easter Sunday, and we could not start, as Iiani declared that the mules had run away during the night, and could not be found; we knew this was only an excuse for remaining at Morphu, and he at length confessed that the mules were caught, and we could start in the afternoon if I would allow him to wait until he should have received the sacrament together with his wife. Having thus brought the theological and the domestic guns to concentrate their fire upon me, I was obliged to yield, and liani appeared in such a jovial frame of mind in the afternoon, and smelt so strongly of spirits, that I suspected his devotions had been made at the raki-shop instead of the altar.
On 14th April we started, and were thankful to leave Morphu. The route lay across the plain westward, and in some parts we rode along the sea margin, eagerly hurrying our animals to turn the corner of the hills and escape from the hot and dreary plain. The breeze was northerly, and a heavy surf broke upon the coast, exhibiting the exposed position of Morphu Bay from north to west. On the eastern side the beach is sandy and the water deepens rapidly, affording good and safe anchorage near the shore; but should the wind change suddenly to west or north, the position would be dangerous. The bay is the most striking of all the numerous indentations on the shores of Cyprus. The bold points of Cape Kormachiti and Cape Kokkino form the chord of an arc twenty-one miles in length, from the centre of which the bay enters the land about eleven miles. It would be impossible to land from boats even during a moderate breeze from the west to north without considerable danger; but I can see no difficulty in arranging a floating breakwater that would afford shelter for small vessels and add materially to the importance of the roadstead. These are the necessary improvements which require an outlay, and unfortunately under the existing conditions of our occupation the revenue that would be available for public works is transferred to the treasury of Constantinople; thus the Turk still hampers progress, as he governs Cyprus in the uniform of the British official. We rounded the base of the hills, which rose rapidly from the shore, and crossed several small streams thickly fringed with tamarisk, that would be impassable during sudden storms of the rainy season. Several villages were distinguished by their bright green appearance among the hills, which denoted the existence of springs or rivulets, and as we proceeded we observed that all crops in the low ground had benefited by artificial irrigation.
After a ride of two hours and a half we arrived at Caravastasi, and halted in a very stony field at the back of the village, beneath an old caroub-tree that had grown thick and shady by the merciless hacking of its taller boughs, which had reduced it to a pollard. The village of Caravastasi consists only of eight or ten houses, but is rendered important by a Custom-house. It is situated on the most inland point of Morphu Bay, and is slightly sheltered on the west by a promontory, which forms a neat little cove for the protection of small vessels; but it is completely open due north. Nothing would be easier than to construct a small harbour, by extending a pier or breakwater from the end of the promontory in the required direction; and the present unimportant village would become only second in importance to Kyrenia.
The positions of ancient sea-port ruins attest the value that attached to certain geographical points in former days, and although the vessels of those periods may have been much inferior to ships of modern times, they were sufficiently large for the commerce of the country and for the capabilities of the harbours. The trade of Cyprus will always be carried by vessels from twenty to one hundred and fifty tons, and there should be no difficulty in providing shelter for ships of this small draught of water. The ruins of Soli, on the west of the present village of Caravastasi, prove that the Athenians, who founded the original city, were thoroughly cognizant of the value of a position which is the only spot upon the whole northern coast of Cyprus that will afford shelter or a landing-place, excepting the harbour of Kyrenia. In the early period of Cyprian history Soli represented one of the independent kingdoms when the island was divided into ten, Amathus, Cerinea (Kyrenia), Citium, Chytri, Curium, Lapithas, Marium, Nea-Paphos, Salamis, and Soli. The Phoenicians, from their own southern position, naturally selected the ports most convenient for their trade, and accordingly settled on the south coast of Cyprus, their chief towns being Amathus, Citium, and Paphos; these were important commercial ports at a time when Cyprus was in its zenith of prosperity, and were sufficient for the requirements of the period. If the British occupation is intended to be permanent it will be highly necessary to determine the classes of harbours that should be provided, as it would be a useless extravagance to expend large sums upon the construction of ports beyond the necessities of the trade. As I have already expressed an opinion that the commerce of Cyprus will be represented by vessels of moderate tonnage, the necessary protection for such vessels may be obtained at an equally moderate outlay, and both Soli and Kyrenia may be made available as safe harbours for all traders upon the northern coast. Famagousta would become the arsenal and dockyard for ships of war; Larnaca and Limasol would be safe roadsteads for all classes, and could easily be arranged to protect small trading-vessels; while Baffo would, like Kyrenia and Soli, be restored to its original position. All rudimentary harbour-works would be planned with a view to future extension, as might be rendered necessary by the development of trade.
Colonel White, 1st Royal Scots, who had been appointed chief commissioner of the Lefkosia district from his former similar position at Larnaca, arrived at Caravastasi upon the same day as ourselves. This very painstaking and energetic officer was exploring his district and investigating all the nooks and corners of the mountainous frontier which bounded his authority; he was accordingly assailed with complaints and lamentations concerning the endless water disputes among the villages; those of the lower ground declaring that the streams to which they were entitled by the rights of centuries had been diverted to other channels, that the Turkish authorities had been bribed by the opposing litigants; with the usual long list of grievances, the discussion of which I shall defer to a special chapter upon "Irrigation."