by Rob Mundle
… as to the Adventure I despair of seeing her any more but am totally at a loss to conceive what is become of her till now. I thought that she might have put into some port in the Strait … and there stayed to complete her Wood and Water; this conjecture was reasonable enough at first, but the elapsation of twelve days has now made it scarce probable …
All that Cook could do was mount a search for Adventure in the region of Cook Strait once Resolution sailed from Queen Charlotte Sound. This departure was accelerated when, on 23 November, Cook, Pickersgill and a few of the crew went to the beach in the cove for some relaxation, only to discover that the Maoris there had recently killed a young man, and having apparently feasted on some body parts, were treating his remains with what the Englishmen considered to be utter disrespect. Later, when the captain returned to the ship, he was confronted by an abhorrent scene. The young man’s head had been brought aboard and placed atop the capstan on the quarterdeck. Cook would later write that, to the disgust of all his men, ‘a piece of the flesh had been broiled and eat by one of the Natives in the presence of most of the officers.’
This scene led to him making his most profound statement regarding cannibalism in New Zealand:
That the New Zealanders are Cannibals can now no longer be doubted, the account I gave of it in my former Voyage was partly founded on circumstances and was, as I afterwards found, discredited by many people … This custom of eating their enemies slain in battle (for I firmly believe they eat the flesh of no others) has undoubtedly been handed down to them from the earliest times.
By 24 November, everything was in readiness for Resolution to put to sea. At four o’clock the following morning, the anchor was weighed and the ship glided out of the cove on a light northerly breeze. Before leaving, Cook ensured that should Furneaux arrive at Ship Cove, there would be a message waiting for him.
This morning before we sailed I wrote a memorandum setting forth the time we arrived last here, the day we sailed, the route I intended to take and such other information as I thought necessary for Captain Furneaux to know and buried it in a bottle under the root of a tree in the garden in the bottom of the Cove in such a manner that it must be found by any European who may put into the Cove. I however have not the least reason to think that it will ever fall into the hands of the person I intended it for, for it is hardly possible that Captain Furneaux can be in any part of New Zealand and I not have heard of him in all this time.
It was Cook’s intention to search as much of the sound and the coastline of the strait as possible, and this he did, ‘firing guns every half hour without seeing or hearing the least signs of what we were in search after’. At six o’clock on 25 November, the captain reluctantly gave up any hope of finding Adventure.
All the officers being unanimous of opinion that the Adventure could neither be stranded on the Coast or be in any of the Ports in this Country determined me to spend no more time in search of her, but to proceed directly to the Southward … I can only suppose that Captain Furneaux was tired with beating against the north-west winds and had taken a resolution to make the best of his way to the Cape of good hope, be this as it may I have no expectation of joining him any more …
In reality, Furneaux was still endeavouring to reach Queen Charlotte Sound, his ship having been defeated continually by gale-force winds from the western sector. Lieutenant James Burney wrote in his journal during this episode: ‘Our ship in her best trim is not able to keep up, or carry Sail with the Resolution – at this time we fall bodily to Leeward being quite Light & so crank that we are obliged to Strike to every Squall – and so unmanageable that there is no getting her round either one way or another [tacking or wearing ship].’
Because of this, Adventure had been blown offshore time after time, but the captain persevered and finally reached Ship Cove five days after Resolution departed. Burney would then note:
On coming in we were greatly disappointed at not finding the Resolution here. As soon as the Ship was Secured a Boat was sent to the Watering place … in our garden Stood a Large Tank of Wood on the Top of which was carved LOOK UNDERNEATH – we were not long in obeying the directions & found buried in a Bottle under the Log a Letter [from Cook].
Adventure was in no fit state to return to sea immediately. Considerable repairs needed to be made, and it wasn’t until 17 December that she was ready to sail again. That same day, tragedy struck.
Furneaux had ordered ten armed sailors to take the cutter to Wharehunga Bay, 6 nautical miles to the east of Ship Cove, to collect what wild greens they could for the ship’s larder. They were directed to return by mid-afternoon, but there was no sign of the party as night descended on the sound.
At first light the next morning, Burney and ten fully armed marines were sent in search of the men. On arrival at a cove in Wharehunga Bay, they saw a large double-hulled Maori canoe on the beach, and upon investigation, discovered in one of the hulls a rowlock from the cutter, a shoe belonging to a crew-member, and what they hoped was dog flesh. They then walked up the beach to where some food baskets were found, and when these were cut open, Burney made a ghastly discovery: the hacked-up and freshly cooked remains of human bodies. There was no question that these belonged to the missing men, because among the flesh was a hand with a distinctive tattoo – containing the letters ‘TH’ – which was that of Thomas Hill, one of the men aboard the cutter.
The search party then rowed into another cove, where they were confronted by about 400 Maoris, some of whom taunted them. There they came across what Burney described as ‘such a shocking scene of Carnage & Barbarity as can never be mentioned or thought of, but with horror’. More body parts from the lost crewmen were scattered around, while others were being cooked on a fire. The Maoris were treating the Englishmen as invaders, an enemy, and the accepted custom of cannibalism prevailed.
Burney had his men gather up some of the strewn body parts, to serve as evidence for Furneaux, before leaving the ghastly scene. The moment they arrived back at the ship and informed the captain of the massacre, he accelerated his plans for departure. The anchor was weighed at daylight the following morning, and four days later, Cape Palliser was in Adventure’s wake as she headed away from New Zealand on an easterly course.
By now, Furneaux knew that to pursue Resolution would be futile, so he set course for Cape Horn. They were homeward bound. However, by the time Adventure reached the Horn, the captain had to consider two emerging problems: his ship was becoming unseaworthy as a result of the battering she had absorbed during more than eighteen months at sea, and they were running low on provisions. He therefore continued towards the east, bound for Cape Town, where both predicaments could be remedied. Adventure reached England on 14 July 1774, two years and one day after sailing away from Plymouth.
Cook had abandoned his search for Adventure once Resolution cleared Cape Palliser. Initially, she was trimmed for an easterly course, but soon he called for the timoneer to put the helm down and turn towards the south. This was the first stage of a plan he had developed in recent weeks and shared with only his senior officers: to continue the search for the Great South Land as far south as possible. It was not his practice to keep the men of the lower deck similarly informed, because such knowledge might create discord among them. When it became apparent to all where they were heading, Cook was pleased to note that his men were happy to continue without a consort, ‘to the South or wherever I thought properly [to] lead them’.
Within a matter of days, Cook had made his first declaration relating to this exploration. With there being a considerable swell running from the south-west, he was convinced that there was no continent in the near vicinity, and that any land that might exist could only be to the south of 60 degrees latitude.
By mid December, Resolution was back among the ice, sailing under greatly reduced canvas in a gale, but still managing to cover between 130 and 150 nautical miles most days. Being summertime in the southern hemisphere, darkness lasted for only a few hours
in such high latitudes, so Cook was able to press his ship onwards in relative safety because of the extended daylight. Even so, nothing could be done to prevent the dramas brought on by the occasional rogue sea. ‘The Storm & Sea much increased,’ Förster wrote at one point. ‘At 9 o’clock, there came a huge mountainous Sea & took the Ship in her middle, & overwhelmed all her parts with a Deluge. The table in the Steerage, at which we were sitting, was covered with water, & it put our candle out; the great Cabin was quite washed over & over by the Sea coming through the Sides of the Ship.’ He added: ‘A cruise among the inhospitable Ice Islands is a dismal prospect & shocking to humanity.’
On 15 December, Resolution was inside the Antarctic Circle for the second time on this voyage, and the fields of ice were beginning to pose a serious threat to the ship. Fog was closing in; then, more alarmingly, they were embayed by a rapidly expanding field of ice and icebergs – there was nowhere for the ship to go but back the way she came. As the vital change of course was being implemented, the already dangerous situation turned into one of emergency, duly announced by a bellowed ‘All hands on deck!’ With the expected sense of urgency, men rushed up the companionway ladders and leapt onto the deck, the look on every face reflecting shock – the captain’s included.
They were confronted by a huge iceberg, and there was every good chance that the ship might strike it with a glancing blow. The first order was for as many men as possible to grab what light spars they could and be ready to fend off this monstrous island of ice. The helmsman was able to turn the ship, however, and she was then set up on a reciprocal course, much to everyone’s great relief. Elliott wrote in his journal that it was ‘the most Miraculous escape from being every soul lost, that ever men had’.
The danger they faced was not lost on anyone, especially the ever-restrained captain.
One of these masses [of ice] was very near proving fatal to us, we had not weather [cleared] it more than once or twice our length, had we not succeeded this circumstance could never have been related. According to the old proverb a miss is as good as a mile, but our situation requires more misses than we can expect, this together with the improbability of meeting with land to the South and the impossibility of exploring it for the ice if we did find any, determine me to haul to the north.
From that moment, every man on deck, but more so the lookouts aloft, had their eyes peering anxiously forward and off the bows, looking for any additional threat to the vessel that might emerge through the murk. Cook planned to continue sailing south the moment they were clear of this danger and the weather had turned in their favour. And there was no holding him back once these requirements were met. On 24 December, Resolution was beyond 67 degrees south in conditions that beggar belief:
… wind northerly a strong gale attended with a thick fog Sleet and Snow which froze to the Rigging as it fell and decorated the whole with icicles. Our ropes were like wires, Sails like board or plates of Metal and the Shivers [sheeves] froze fast in the blocks so that it required our utmost effort to get a Top-sail down and up; the cold so intense as hardly to be endured, the whole Sea in a manner covered with ice …
It was in conditions like this that Cook had to apply a technique needed to make the ship safer. The sails were virtually frozen stiff, so Resolution had to shake herself free of this burden, as well as the snow and ice accumulated in the rig. The helmsman would be ordered to put down the helm, turning the bow towards the direction of the wind. Then, with a thunderous sound, the sails would flog wildly, causing the ice that was sheathing them to fall to the deck like glass from a broken window. At the same time, the entire rig would shudder so violently that the mass of snow on the masts and yards would be shaken free and disappear downwind in an enormous white cloud.
Resolution was now at the limit of navigation: Cook told his officers on the quarterdeck that it was time to sail to the north, away from this icy wilderness. His decision was equally influenced by a growing belief that there was no land to be found in this region.
The following day was Christmas Day, and the extreme weather conditions, clear skies notwithstanding, made for a modest celebration. As expected, the grog bottles came out, and before long most of the men were melancholy, if not very drunk.
Cook had applied strict discipline among the crew from the start of this voyage, and the cat-o’-nine-tails had seen not-infrequent action since then. Two days after the new year of 1774, there came a breach that the captain deemed to be extreme. Midshipman Charles Loggie, who was well under the influence of alcohol, drew a knife and slashed two of the young seamen. The assailant was subsequently ‘sent before the mast’, where he was punished in no uncertain fashion with the lash.
Another two days later, Resolution was at the latitude of 55 degrees south and holding a north-westerly course. Despite his conviction that they were not in the proximity of any large landmass, Cook was considering making one more probe as far south as possible, just to make sure. It was still too early to do so, as was apparent twenty-four hours later, when the ship was confronted by some of the worst weather that the Southern Ocean could muster at that time of year: very strong gales with excessively heavy squalls, accompanied by ugly, grey, voluminous breaking seas, some around 50 feet high, their crests a couple of hundred yards apart. Each time one of these ocean monsters hammered the ship, she would shudder and roll violently in response. Worse still, whenever a wave broke over the deck and cascaded from one bulwark to the other, it became apparent that the caulking work done in Queen Charlotte Sound was ineffective. Bitterly cold water gushed through the gaps in the deck planks and poured below, drenching the men’s hammocks and bedding, and generally making life almost unbearable. It was like water torture.
By 11 January, the conditions had driven Resolution another 400 nautical miles north, and now, with the weather turning in his favour, it was decision time for the captain. At noon he wrote, ‘being little more than two hundred Leagues from my track to Otaheite in 1769 in which space it was not probable anything was to be found, we therefore hauled up SE with a fresh gale.’ They were heading to the Antarctic Circle for the third time!
Making Cook’s life easier as a navigator was the continuing accuracy of the Kendall timepiece, particularly with regard to the calculation of longitude. He was full of praise for this chronometer, as it held its time in all conditions: ‘[I] determined our Longitude beyond a doubt. Indeed our error can never be great so long as we have so good a guide as Mr Kendall’s watch.’
Resolution pressed on south in sometimes horrid conditions, yet the men rarely grumbled, even when the need arose for some to climb up the ratlines and tend the sails. By Sunday, 30 January, Cook and his crew were creating maritime history in a previously unseen, incomprehensible environment.
A little after 4 AM we perceived the Clouds to the South near the horizon to be of an unusual Snow white brightness which denounced our approach to field ice, soon after it was seen from the Mast-head and at 8 o’Clock we were close to the edge of it which extended East and West in a straight line far beyond our sight … The Clouds near the horizon were of a perfect Snow whiteness and were difficult to be distinguished from the Ice hills whose lofty summits reached the Clouds. The outer or Northern edge of this immense Ice field was composed of loose or broken ice so close packed together that nothing could enter it; about a Mile in began the firm ice, in one compact solid body and seemed to increase in height as you traced it to the South; In this field we counted Ninety Seven Ice Hills or Mountains, many of them vastly large … I will not say it was impossible anywhere to get in among this Ice, but I will assert that the bare attempting of it would be a very dangerous enterprise and what I believe no man in my situation would have thought of. I whose ambition leads me not only farther than any other man has been before me, but as far as I think it possible for man to go, was not sorry at meeting with this interruption, as it in some measure relieved us from the dangers and hardships, inseparable with the Navigation of the Southern Polar regions
. Since therefore we could not proceed one Inch farther South, no other reason need be assigned for our Tacking and stretching back to the North, being at that time in the Latitude of 71°10' South, Longitude 106°54'W …
Cook’s coordinates for Resolution placed her about 130 nautical miles north of what is today Antarctica’s Walgreen coast.
He now made the decision to sail to the north, and towards warmer weather, comfortable in the knowledge that while no land had been discovered, he had done everything possible to find it. And besides, there was already ample success in the ship’s wake.
As the men on watch started to tend the sheets, braces and lines in preparation for the call to tack, there was some friendly rivalry between two of the crew. First a young midshipman, George Vancouver – who years later would be honoured for his achievements in life by having a city in British Columbia named after him – scurried out to near the tip of the bowsprit and shouted back to his crewmates that he was further south than any man had ever been … Not to be outdone, Anders Sparrman, who was sitting well aft in the great cabin at the ship’s stern, then laid claim to the honour because, as the ship glided through her turn, that was the most southerly point that any part of Resolution had achieved.
The crew could have been forgiven for thinking that their exploration efforts were coming to a close and that they would soon be heading home. But nothing was further from the mind of the expedition commander. The voyage was far from complete; the exploration had to continue, but in what direction he wasn’t sure. Cook would no doubt have spread out his charts on the table in the great cabin once again, in order to compare the tracks of Endeavour and Resolution with the course taken by others who had sailed across the Pacific and through the Southern Ocean. This research would reveal what regions remained to be explored – uncharted areas that were large enough to conceal a yet-to-be-discovered continent.