Secret Life of James Cook

by Graeme Lay

  On his way back to the bay James reflected on the incident. Already several of the men had formed attachments to local women. It was entirely natural after so many weeks at sea. The company of a woman was something he had been sorely missing as well, although as commander he could not himself be seen to succumb to carnal temptations. But the sight of the woman’s gaping parts had aroused him, there could be no denying it. However, he could not yield, he must not: it was an integral part of his duty. He must leave carnality to the others. But the related matter of the venereals concerned him greatly. The men must not transfer any infection to this lovely island. That would be unforgivable.

  He rounded a corner of the track and there, spread out below him, was Matavai Bay, its waters shimmering in the late afternoon sun. He stopped and stared. Although small waves were rising then breaking lazily against the reef, the lagoon water was like a pool of quicksilver. High above the ocean, beyond the reef, a gigantic tower of graphite-grey cloud seemed to join the sky to the sea. A rainstorm building, James realized. But although the clouds surrounding the tower were an unruly mixture of streaks, banks and billows, away to the east was a circle of golden light like a brilliant Cyclops eye in the sky. He stood for some time, entranced by the wild patterns of the clouds and the interplay of light and shade. Then, sensing that the rainstorm was about to break, he hurried on down the track to the bay.

  Nineteen

  29 MAY 1769

  My dear Elizabeth,

  As mid-summer looms for you in England, here on this island we also know nothing except heat. But with the heat there is rain, much of it, and in torrents. As a consequence of this constant warmth and rain, vegetation is rampant. Palms and forest trees grow swiftly, and there is an abundance of tropical flowers so that the island really does resemble the Garden of Eden. But the heat also brings a profusion of insects which torment us, especially as nightfall approaches. Cockroaches which fly, drifting hornets, swarming ants, aggressive flies and whining mosquitoes are the worst. The men light fires to deter them. Parkinson found that when painting in the open air the flies even devoured the paints from his palette, so he has taken to conducting his artistic work under a net of muslin.

  I struggle to comprehend the politics of this island — they seem even more convoluted than those of Westminster. Since the authority of the putative queen, Oberea, was diminished by a civil war in which her forces were vanquished, the leader of this part of Otaheite is her relative, Tutaha. A large, powerful man, Banks has nicknamed him Hercules. But there is talk of another leader, called Vehiatua, whose warriors defeated the queen’s at a battle on the west coast of the island. Thus he, too, could be the paramount chief. But whom to believe?

  Banks spends much time ashore now, carrying out his scientific studies. His curiosity is insatiable. He is assisted by an interesting older native called Tupaia who comes from another island of this group, called Raiatea. He speaks passable English, learned from John Gore when Wallis’s expedition was here, and shows great interest in all things civilized, particularly Parkinson’s work. Being of generous disposition, Sydney has allowed Tupaia the use of paper and paint, and, encouraged by our draughtsman, the native already shows some ability in drawing and painting. The artistic interests of the Indians being limited to carving and dancing, Tupaia thus may well be the very first native of this region to wield pencil and brush.

  Theft of our property by the Indians is a constant problem. They steal anything they can, including irreplaceable scientific instruments, and are as adept as London pickpockets at this practice. It has been necessary for me to confiscate canoes and hold some of the Indians’ leaders hostage until the stolen items are returned. I have had conversations with Tupaia over this matter. He informed me that in his society it is not a sin to steal, although it is a sin to get caught in the act of doing so. The people here even have a god of thievery, called Hiro. Tupaia also explained that his people have no concept of personal ownership of property, land or goods. Our firm belief in individual ownership of goods is entirely alien to them so that everything in a district is shared by the tribe who dwells there. My men take advantage of this communality with regard to the local women, who treat them with great generosity. But I have also observed that their favours are given principally for what goods they can receive in return, especially nails, cloth and such gewgaws as beads. These items they covet and are prepared to go to great lengths to obtain.

  I hasten to assure you, however, of my continued fidelity to you. I have no intention of ever breaking my vow of marital faithfulness. To you, too, I can confess, dear wife, that I find the wantonness of the Otaheitian women troubling, for should the venereals be brought to them by our sailors, their licentious behaviour will doubtless spread the disease rapidly throughout this lovely island.

  As the date for the transit approaches, everything is becoming readied. I have dispatched another scientific party, led by Gore, to the neighbouring island of Eimayo so that the phenomenon can also be observed from there. As I have explained to you already, but will here repeat for your benefit, the transit of Venus across the face of the sun will offer an opportunity to measure the distance from the Earth to the sun. The black dot, as Venus will appear in its transit, will offer us a fixed point on which to focus. Such resulting calculations can then, by trigonometry, be used to establish accurate figures for an important astronomical yardstick, the distance from Earth to sun. Green refers to this figure as the ‘astronomical unit’.

  So everything is almost readied, and now all that is required on the day is a clear sky, and this concerns me as lately there has been much cloud and rain.

  I must close now, Beth, as with the primary aim of our expedition imminent there is still much to do ashore. So I will close this account with a further expression of my deepest love for you and our children.

  Your devoted husband,

  James

  They began to count down the days to the transit. The observation site on Point Venus was complete. Inside a large tent was the clock with its gridiron pendulum and outside the tent and facing the clock was the observatory, in which were set up the journeyman clock and astronomical quadrant, the latter set upon the head of a large cask set into the ground and filled with wet sand so that it made no movement. More telescopes were set up atop other casks. Now, with all the elaborate preparations in place, everything depended on the weather. What conditions would 3 June bring?

  3 JUNE 1769

  This day proved as favourable to our purpose as we could wish. Not a cloud was to be seen the whole day and the air was perfectly clear so that we had every advantage we could desire in observing the whole of the passage of the planet Venus over the sun’s disk. We very distinctly saw an atmosphere or dusky shade around the body of the planet which very much disturbed the times of the contacts, particularly the two internal ones. Solander observed, as well as Green and I, and we differed from one another in observing the times of the contacts much more than could be expected. Green’s telescope and mine were of the same magnifying power but that of Dr Solander was greater than ours. It was nearly calm the whole day and the thermometer exposed to the sun about the middle of the day rose to a degree of heat we have not met with before — 119°.

  4 JUNE 1769

  Dearest Elizabeth,

  The transit has been observed! You can imagine my relief when the movement of the planet was watched, not just from here on Otaheite, but also from two other bases in the area. Although our observations with regard to the contacts of the planet and the sun varied slightly (probably due to Solander’s telescope being more powerful than Green’s and mine), this discrepancy I do not believe will be significant in determining the solar parallax. And I do believe, Beth, that the observations made here on Otaheite will prove crucial in determining the precise distance from Earth to the sun. That figure, when coupled with the perfection of the marine timekeeper, will be of enormous assistance to the exact calculation of longitude, and hence precise navigation.

/>   To you, Beth, I can confess enormous pride in this achievement. To sail around the world, then establish an astronomical observation site and witness the transit of Venus were ambitions I knew I was capable of executing. Yet there was always the possibility of failure, both at sea and on land. But it is done, and done well, and so the first aim of our expedition has been achieved. A celebration last night in the Great Cabin was called for, and carried out with jubilation. Green became more intoxicated than usual, being scarcely able to stand after supper, but no one begrudged him this overindulgence — his astronomical observances have at all times been diligent. And as he blurted out to us last evening, before retiring inebriated to his cabin, ‘Gentlemen, today we have begun to measure the heavens!’

  I will end here, dearest, as much now remains to be done before I open the second set of Admiralty instructions. Also the encampment and fort must be dismantled, the rest of the island’s coast surveyed and provisioning carried out for the next stage of the voyage. All this I will be describing in the entries which follow. In the meantime, I am,

  Your loving husband,

  James

  Shared dinners in the Great Cabin were now less common as most of the gentlemen stayed ashore. But two days after the observation of the transit James sent an order out that he wished the officers and scientists to attend a dinner on board Endeavour to hear an announcement of great importance.

  They sat around the table, finishing a dinner of wild duck, roast pork, sweet potatoes and fruit. Banks and Solander were tanned now, Sporing’s face uniformly red from the sun, Parkinson’s blotchy. Following the meal, they discussed what they had learned of Otaheite. Setting down his brandy glass, Banks said, ‘My taio, Tupaia, has been explaining to me the way the society of the island is arranged.’

  ‘Do they have an arrangement?’ asked Sporing doubtfully. ‘They all seem the same to me.’

  ‘Indeed they have,’ replied Banks, shooting him an irritated look. He took another sip of brandy. ‘As we know, at the apex of their society is the ari’i rahi.’

  ‘Tutaha, or your Hercules,’ put in James.

  ‘Quite so. He is the paramount chief, although his authority can be challenged in war, as Vehiatua has lately done.’ He set down his glass. ‘Below the ari’i rahi are the lesser chiefs, the nobility, which they call “ari’i”. Below them are the people they call the “manahune”, who can own tracts of land. And at the very bottom are the “teuteu”, the commoners. They have no land and few possessions.’ He made sharp, horizontal strokes with his right hand. ‘It is all highly stratified.’

  ‘Not so dissimilar to England then,’ James observed quietly. ‘And what of your friend Tupaia? He consorts with chiefs, yet appears not to be one.’

  ‘Ah,’ replied Banks knowingly. ‘Tupaia is an “arioi”, a kind of priest. They are a separate, exclusive class — chosen people, skilled voyagers and followers of their god of war, Oro. The arioi are not allowed to father children, but they can adopt them. Young Taiata is Tupaia’s adopted son. The arioi travel frequently, from island to island, entertaining the people with stories and leading the religious rituals.’

  ‘So Tupaia knows of other islands?’ asked James thoughtfully.

  ‘That is what he has told me, and I believe him.’

  ‘Islands which we may visit and claim?’

  ‘I cannot see why not.’

  James nodded. ‘Thank you for that information, Banks. Now we must move on to other matters.’

  The company fell silent, contemplating their brandies and wondering what was coming next as James had risen from the table and collected a sheet of notepaper from the writing desk. Still standing, he announced, ‘This afternoon I opened the Admiralty’s second set of instructions, which until now have remained sealed.’

  The others were instantly attentive, leaning forward under the central lamp’s candlelight. James began to read. ‘“Whereas there is reason to imagine that there is a Continent or land of great extent to the southward of the tract lately made by Captain Wallis or the tract of any former navigators in pursuits of the like kind, you are to proceed to the southward, to forty degrees south latitude, in order to make the discovery of the aforementioned Continent.”’

  ‘Terra Australis Incognita!’ Banks cried out, and the others looked at each other in delighted surmise. The Great Unknown Southern Land.

  James then declared sombrely: ‘In accordance with my instructions, we will leave early next month and sail south-west, in search of the said continent.’

  A deep silence fell upon the cabin. Then, perhaps speaking for all of them, Parkinson said quietly, ‘’Tis an exciting prospect, sir.’ Then he added wistfully, ‘But I will miss Otaheite.’

  There was a knock on the door of the Great Cabin. ‘Come,’ James called, not looking up from his journal.

  ‘Tute, good morning.’

  James turned, surprised. He set his quill aside. Instead of one of the servants it was the imposing robed figure of Tupaia. Under his arm was a roll of paper. Withdrawing it, he handed it to James. ‘For you, Tute.’

  Puzzled, James unrolled the paper and spread it out on the table. On it was a watercolour of four native figures side-on, two seated on stools, the other two standing between them. The seated figures were semi-naked and were playing nose flutes; the other two wore long robes and were beating drums with their hands. Although naively portrayed, the figures were undeniably realistic, especially the flautists. Tupaia beamed. ‘Heiva,’ he said. Then, groping for an English equivalent, ‘Party.’

  James nodded, not taking his eyes from the painting. ‘Who did this?’

  ‘Tupaia. I painted.’

  ‘With Mr Parkinson’s assistance?’

  The priest frowned. ‘No. His paints, his paper. But Tupaia’s painting.’

  James nodded. ‘I like it. It’s a very good painting. Will you give it to Oberea?’

  Tupaia shook his head. ‘No, it is for you, Tute. Taio Tute. Friend.’

  They talked. Tupaia seemed quite at ease in the Great Cabin and his English was now impressive, no doubt because he was spending so much time in Banks’s company. When James asked him about other islands in the region he recited the names of many, pointing in the approximate direction in which they lay. Tetiaroa, Huahine, Maupiti, Bora Bora. Then, Raiatea. ‘My island.’

  James was intrigued. If time permitted, they could sail to these other, as yet uncharted islands and claim them for England. Thanking Tupaia again for the painting, he decided to call another meeting with the officers and gentlemen and put the suggestion to them.

  That evening Surgeon Monkhouse drew James aside. Like Banks, he had been spending most of his time ashore in the company of the natives. Very curious about their customs, he had taken to wearing a Tahitian robe. To James’s mind he looked something of a scarecrow in the garment, being a thin, slack-shouldered man. Now he gave James a nervous look. ‘Several of the men have the venereals,’ he announced.

  James was startled. ‘You have examined them?’

  ‘Yes. They show the symptoms. Sores on the genitalia, pain on passing urine.’

  ‘But when you examined them earlier only one man was infected, and he was confined to the ship.’

  Monkhouse looked away. ‘Seven men are now infected. As the Indian women are so cooperative with our men, it seems that they were responsible for the transmission.’

  ‘So it must have been Wallis’s men who introduced the venereals to the Indian women.’

  Monkhouse shook his head. ‘Wallis swore that none of his men were infected when they went ashore. And Gore has verified the fact.’

  James considered the implications of this. If his men had brought the venereals, then it could spread throughout the island people with dreadful results as there was no known cure, only the mercury treatment. The adage ‘A night with Venus, a lifetime of Mercury’ now took on a horribly ironic meaning. Could Monkhouse be wrong, he wondered. He wasn’t much of a physician, James had decided, and the
men muttered that he had a woman of his own on the shore. Perhaps he had the pox himself? But if he was correct, how could the disease have come to the island other than from Wallis’s men? After dismissing Monkhouse he went ashore in search of Banks.

  The botanist was sitting under a coconut palm beside the river which flowed across Point Venus. Parkinson and Tupaia were with him, and Tupaia’s boy, Taiata, sat a little distance away weaving a hat from pandanus leaves. Even under the trees it was searingly hot. In the distance, under Pickersgill’s direction, others of the Endeavours were dismantling the fort and packing equipment into crates. The ground here, James noticed, was pocked with crab holes. Taiata brought over an opened coconut and the three men passed it from one to the other, swigging from it. Banks held the nut up to James. ‘A drink, Cook. The finest in the world!’

  ‘Thank you.’ James took some of the refreshing drink, and handed it back. Then he sat down next to the others and reported grimly what Monkhouse had told him. ‘So there is no doubt the venereals have come to the island.’

  Banks looked thoughtful. Then he said, ‘Naturally, it is only the lower order of the Otaheitian women who have transmitted the venereals to our men.’ He turned to Tupaia. ‘What is your word for such people, taio?’

  ‘Teuteu,’ said the priest, with obvious distaste.

  ‘Yes,’ said Banks scornfully. ‘Those at the bottom of society.’

  James bristled at this. He said coldly, ‘It matters not from which level of society the infected people come, Banks. What matters is that the venereals are now on this island, they will spread, and it seems that some of our men are responsible.’

  Banks shrugged. ‘Perhaps, perhaps not.’ He turned to Tupaia. ‘My taio here told me last night of another European ship which came to Otaheite after Wallis’s.’

  ‘Another?’ said James. ‘From which nation?’

  ‘He cannot tell. Not England, for they spoke a strange language. But they were pale, like us, and came in a ship like ours. They stayed only a short time, at Hitia’a.’