Leaving aside the vexed question of whether or not trading the commission for self-government in 1988 was such a good idea, A City Like No Other is a treasure house of Canberra folklore, history and verifiable fact.

One of the best anecdotes comes from the pen of Vin Kane, an accountant with the NCDC from 1961 to 1974, who was tasked with organising a picnic for the planning committee in the wake of the filling of Lake Burley Griffin.

''This was at a time when only the hospital jetty had been built,'' he said. ''A picnic lunch was to be arranged on the lake shore where Weston Park is now, and members would disembark there from the police launch which, at that time, was the only boat authorised to be on the lake.

''I selected the best spot, ordered the catering from the Hotel Rex, and made sure the water police knew what had to be done, including the place where the members would disembark.

''All went well on the day; tables and chairs were set up - albeit on a slope; food and drinks were laid out by hotel staff and, at the appointed time, the police launch and its distinguished passengers appeared, heading south to the lake dam wall.

''Hand waves from ship to shore were exchanged, the food and drink waiters readied themselves, then the launch reappeared a few minutes later heading north and disappeared around a bend in the lake, then turned and appeared again.

''This time Sir John (Overall) stood up, cupped his hands and called out, 'Mr Kane, where do we get off?' I called back, 'The police know.' Sir John responded 'No, they don't.'

''There was silence. There was little to be gained by further conversation. We just gazed at each other. Then the launch slowly began to back into the lake shore. A short distance out it stopped. The officer in charge stripped to his underpants and jumped overboard, dragged a plank over the stern of the launch and placed the other end on the shore, and proceeded to help each of the members 'walk the plank'. All, that is, except Sir Daryl Lindsay who had to be piggybacked to shore because he had a damaged leg.

''Lunch was (further) enlivened by Associate Commissioner Bill Andrews falling backwards off his chair. The slope of the land put all who sat on the low side of the table at risk. Very little of the wine and spirits was consumed and many unopened bottles were returned with the caterer's van, but when the bill came we were charged for the full order. The hotel insisted there had been no returns.''

Mr Kane also tells a story about the design of the urinals in Building 7 at Russell, the structure occupied by the navy. The RAN liaison had insisted on wall-hung urinals, rather than the traditional full-length affairs, arguing they were more hygienic, used less water and were easier to clean.

He also specified the height at which they were to be hung.

Just days before the official handover the assistant secretary of management services rang Mr Kane with an unusual problem.

''He was a small man, about five feet (152cm) in height and he had found the urinals to be out of his reach.''

At least one urinal in each of the amenities blocks was lowered before the building was handed over. Generations of short sailors are blissfully unaware of the fate they were spared.

Email despain@bigpond.com for book details.