For a city with undoubtedly the best sheltered harbour basin in the country, we are woefully blind to its potential use.
The upper harbour sits almost neglected in our midst, a desolate, windy expanse of emptiness.
The whole area, both on and around the water, seems devoid of character or purpose.
The harbour molars have not helped much either.
But with a change of attitude, and with minimal financial outlay, we could use the harbour to dramatically breathe life into our city in a way that no other think-big project could ever hope to achieve.
Many of us drive around the harbour every day, and we look across it.
But this is almost the full extent of the typical citizen's interaction with it.
Many have never actually been out on the water, or have had the opportunity to do so.
Most of us would be hard pressed to say exactly where the yachting marina was, or how we might get there.
Sea scouts, rowing clubs and yacht clubs are widely spread around the harbour, but they all seem to be positioned in out-of-the-way settings.
Recreational facilities are scattered randomly around industrial backwaters, but there is no focus and only minimal visibility for them.
The highest-profile activity on the harbour is usually provided by the windsurfing and kite surfing crowd, who regularly delight us with their racy performances beside Portsmouth Drive.
However, this seems organised primarily by Watercooled Sports, and there is little opportunity for the general public to become more involved, even as spectators.
This kind of sporting entertainment usually comes as a surprise to non-participants.
When a fleet of Sunburst sailing dinghies magically materialises from Vauxhall on the occasional Saturday morning, the whole town seems to light up.
Spectacular views of the brightly coloured sails can be seen from Roslyn around to Highcliff.
The city looks great.
And then it's all over, just as suddenly as it began, and we're generally none the wiser as to why they were there.
There is huge potential for us to develop small dinghy sailing to an exceptionally high standard in Dunedin.
The myriad service industries around yachting and boat building could also be encouraged and strengthened.
But boating is not on our collective agenda, and we are all the poorer for it.
So what is going wrong? Why don't we have a co-ordinated approach to developing activity on the harbour? Why, in all the publicity about the new stadium, has nothing been said about the breathtaking views across the harbour? I bet it's because all the planning has been inward looking.
The stadium has been built to look inwards, with minimal consideration given to the potential value of the stunning backdrop.
Nobody seems interested in celebrating the city's harbour views.
Apart from the Customhouse, there is still minimal opportunity to sit and dine while gazing out over the water.
It's a spectacularly romantic aspect to an evening meal, but it's just not a feature of our city restaurants.
The extensive plans of the last council to dramatically develop the harbour basin and the regional council's own plans to build its new headquarters on the old Sealord site seem to have sunk without trace.
In the end, nothing is happening around the area.
The laudable vision around the Millennium Wharf has not progressed either.
We are now left with a rather pointless concrete promenade to nowhere, gratefully accepted by a couple of dozen salmon fishermen who will fish from wherever they can find, anyway.
There are few places around town where people can legitimately park and enjoy direct access to the water.
The Millennium Wharf is one of them.
But not even a mobile coffee cart features down there.
Monarch continues to bravely fly the flag for the city on the water.
What a wonderful achievement it is for a small family business to provide such a reliable and comprehensive marine experience for tourists against a generalised public apathy.
And why is Elsie Evans still having so much trouble getting afloat again? A dedicated band of enthusiasts continues to struggle to re-instate her as the country's oldest ferry, but they are scraping desperately to bring the project to fruition with little evidence of public funding or support.
Surely, Elsie Evans should be given priority as an essential part of the city's overall heritage theme.
Imagine the excursion train running from Port Chalmers to the farmers market every Saturday morning.
What a brilliant outing it would make for Port Chalmers residents to get into town in a socially convivial way, while townies could also enjoy the experience of travelling out by rail and browsing the shops and cafes in port.
But the real drawcard would be the harbour views.
The train could connect to a ferry to Portobello, and a hired cycle ride back to town would complete the circuit.
Many readers will remember the amazing sense of community spirit apparent around town on the eve of the new millennium.
A fireworks display, launched from a platform moored in the middle of the upper harbour, was watched by tens of thousands of people along Portsmouth Drive, in the hill suburbs and from Ravensbourne to Portobello Rd.
We had accidentally discovered our own natural amphitheatre, and the harbour basin provided a brilliant focus for the whole city.
Wouldn't it be great to install a permanent mooring out there or, better still, develop a small rocky island similar to that recently created in the Andersons Bay inlet?
This would provide a focal point for the wider view.
The rocks could become a haven for seals and gulls.
Or we could become more ambitious and develop a children's adventure island with tunnels and a small beach.
Rowboats could be made available for hire to parents to get offspring out there.
The larger the island, the grander the features could become.
A small pirate ship cafe, perhaps? Or the site for a civic monument or a commissioned wind sculpture.
The possibilities are endless.
Our city is built around a superb natural harbour.
The upper basin could provide a wonderful facility for a range of water sports and activities with minimal costly development.
The facilities simply need to be more centralised and more visible.
Imagine a harbour basin that pumps with activity every weekend.
Where kayaks, yachts, windsurfers and rowing boats take full advantage of the shallow expanse of protected waters.
Where residents and visitors naturally gravitate to waterside cafes to watch.
Where children can muck around in boats and dream of greater things.
And where Elsie Evans and Monarch can proudly ply their trade on a colourful harbour that bustles with life and is the envy of the world.
It's all there.
We simply have to get out and use it more.
Chris Skellett lives in Warrington.
