Hong Kong people love the giant rubber duck created by Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman because it brings back memories of the days when their majestic harbor was a source of inspiration, confidence and comfort.

Now, it's nothing more than a stretch of polluted water suffocated by wanton reclamation, creating large tracts of land for more depressing flyovers and ugly tall buildings. The harbor itself is narrowing because of the reclamation resulting in choppy waters that turn a ferry ride into a most uncomfortable experience.

Public protests have forced the government into producing a plan to restrict reclamation work on the harbor. But the damage done cannot be reversed. It's not the harbor I remember it to be.

I am sure many Hong Kong people can still remember what the harbor meant to them. I used to take the Star Ferry twice a day to and from school, every day. That was the time when I thought and dreamed of what I wanted to do when I grew up.

It became a lifelong habit. I took a ferry ride across the harbor whenever I felt I needed time to be alone and think things over, or just to brood.

Several years ago, on the eve of an operation to treat a medical problem, I headed toward the harbor front near Queen's Pier almost by reflex. After spending something like an hour or so there watching the ferries shuttling between the shores and the seagulls gliding above the water, I felt confident that I would be fine.

This may sound surreal. But many Hong Kong people obviously can feel the magic of the harbor in soothing their souls and lending them strength. There were always people in the evening sitting on the benches or leaning against the railings in the old Queen's Pier or elsewhere by the waterfront, who looked to be deep in thought. I am sure they found inspiration and encouragement in the sight, sound and smell of the harbor.

When I was a reporter in Hong Kong, every time someone talked about the Hong Kong advantage, he or she would invariably cite the deep-water harbor of great beauty as a major attribute. With the development of the container port elsewhere in Hong Kong, the economical value of the harbor might be seen to have gone on permanent decline. But that has not dented, in any way, Hong Kong people's affection for it.

Abuse of the harbor in the name of urban development in past years has changed people's attitude toward the harbor. The waterfront walks that were so close and so endearing to us are mostly gone, replaced by soulless promenades lying far out at the fringes of barren reclaimed lands. The so-called Avenue of Stars along the waterfront in Tsim Sha Tsui is nothing more than a make-believe tourist attraction that is largely shunned by locals.

Even the view of the harbor from vantage points at The Peak is not the same as of old. The natural curves of our familiar coastlines on both sides of the harbor have largely been obliterated by landfills. Even on a clear day when the weather is balmy and the wind is mild, the waters look rough and agitated, lacking the placid calmness that once was so endearing to our hearts.

As such, the harbor has long ago lost its meaning to many Hong Kong people. The last time I rode the Star Ferry from Hong Kong Island to Kowloon, I found the short journey rough and uncomfortable and the last time I walked on the harbor front in Wan Chai, I was depressed by the sterile modernity that has as much appeal as a standard room in a chain motel.

It's no wonder so many Hong Kong people have fallen in love with a giant rubber duck floating on the harbor. It's a lot nicer to look at than any one of the monstrous structures on both sides of the harbor.

The author is a current affairs commentator.

(HK Edition 05/25/2013 page6)