Port Watson has sprung up rapidly and has the taste of a goldrush town despite its tropical languor. Its architecture appears eccentric, and "city planning" is considered a dirty word. Everyone builds where
and what they like, from thatch-hut to junkyard to geodesic dome or
quonset, pre-fab or traditional, aesthetic-personal or functional-ugly. Most streets are unpaved, and automobiles are rarely seen – although several hundred "free bikes" (painted white) lie about for anyone who needs them.
The population of the enclave is said to be about 2000, although no census has ever been taken. Perhaps half are native Sonsorolans; the other half consists of many nationalities, the largest percentage probably North Americans – then Chinese, Australians and New Zealanders, Europeans (British, French, German, etc.), Scandinavians, South Americans, a scattering of Filipinos, Javanese and other Southeast Asians; and individuals from such unlikely places as Iran, Egypt, South Africa. Most of the "settlers" came to work for the Bank or one of the other
Port Watson concerns, although a significant number "just happened by, and decided to stay." Living styles range from Gauginesque beachcombing to the international jet-set (the Bank’s roving front-people), but the majority fall somewhere between such extremes.
Important: the traveler should constantly bear in mind that Port Watson differs from the rest of the world in one major respect: the absence of all law. Some Watsonians like to depict their town as a cross between The Heart of Darkness and Tombstone City there’s gossip about duels and feuds, stories about "little wars" between communes, etc. – but in truth these incidents are quite rare, possibly even apocryphal. Nevertheless, the newcomer should be aware that no
authority exists to pluck anyone from danger or difficulty; every Watsonian takes full responsibility for personal actions; the visitor must willingly follow suit.