by James Wyllie
DRINK
After food, ALCOHOL is the mainstay of the crew. On board are 250 barrels of beer, 44 barrels of brandy and 17 barrels of rum. Out of this, you will be given a DAILY RATION of a gallon of beer or a pint of grog – rum diluted with water; sometimes the crew will mix beer with spirits to make a concoction known as flip. Not surprisingly, drunkenness is endemic and you will need to be able to handle your liquor without losing control; much of the trouble on the ship will be caused by too much alcohol. One crew member will die after drinking 3½ pints of rum, while four will be flogged for stealing rum.
If you are teetotal, for whatever reason, the best way to explain your abstinence is to claim serious religious convictions – preferably Protestant.
Aside from drinking, recreational activities will include singing SEA SHANTIES and GAMBLING on pretty much anything from arm wrestling contests to cockroach racing. For those so inclined, there will be a RELIGIOUS SERVICE every Sunday morning.
ACCOMMODATION
The quarters where you sleep will be on the lower deck. Your HAMMOCKS are a mere fourteen inches wide with hardly any gap between you and your neighbours, while the ceiling is only four feet high. Anybody over six foot is going to struggle, as is anyone who suffers from even mild claustrophobia.
Going to the toilet will present its own unique challenge. The crew’s LATRINE is simply a hole cut in a long plank extending out from the bow of the ship. Privacy and retaining your dignity will be the least of your worries; you will be focused on not falling off the plank. In rough seas, you may prefer just to hold it in.
You will wash yourself regularly using a large bucket full of cold water. Clothes will also be soaked in it and scrubbed with soft soap made from ash lye and animal fat. Your hammock and bedding will be rolled out and subjected to the same treatment. All these items will then be hung out on deck to dry in the sun and the wind.
DISCIPLINE
Once a week you will gather on deck for a reading of the ARTICLES OF WAR. First drawn up in 1652 and last updated in 1757, this has 36 sections governing matters of discipline and punishment on board ship, listing crimes either meriting the death penalty or ‘such punishment … as the nature and degree of the offence shall deserve’, which generally means getting FLOGGED by a cat o’nine tails. Known as the ‘captain’s daughter’, this is about 2½-feet-long with nine waxed cords of rope, each with a knot on the end. A maximum of twelve blows will be delivered to your bare back, the whip cutting into your flesh and causing considerable bleeding. Afterwards, salt will be rubbed into the wounds to prevent infection.
Thankfully many of the Articles will not apply to your voyage. However, a number are worth paying close attention to. Take care not to fall foul of ARTICLE TWO, which covers ‘profane oaths, cursing, excretions, drunkenness, uncleanness or other scandalous actions’; ARTICLE TWENTY-THREE, which condemns fighting, quarrelling and winding up your fellow crew members (an easy trap to fall into on such a long and stressful journey); and ARTICLE TWENTY-SEVEN, which warns you not to fall asleep while on watch or slack off from your work, both errors you may unwittingly commit. The clause most open to abuse is ARTICLE THIRTY-SIX, which covers ‘all other crimes … not mentioned in the act’, and gives the captain carte blanche to punish any misdemeanours. Luckily for you, Cook uses the lash sparingly. He is a benevolent captain who believes in treating his crew humanely. This does not mean Cook is a soft touch. He realises the necessity of maintaining discipline and will act accordingly.
However fed up you are with your diet, don’t gripe about the food. ARTICLE TWENTY-ONE forbids complaints about ‘the unwholesomeness of the victual’, something Cook takes seriously. Two of the crew will get twelve lashes for refusing to eat their ration of fresh beef.
Even if you avoid such disciplinary measures, you will have to watch the whippings, performed on deck in front of all of you, accompanied by drum rolls, sips of water for the victim and the repetitive crack of the lash.
DEATH
An unavoidable and distressing part of the trip will be the loss of fellow sailors. The first death will occur only two weeks after leaving Plymouth: one of the crew will get dragged overboard by the buoy-rope and anchor. Six months later, either deliberately or by accident, a marine will disappear over the side, while on arrival in Tahiti the artist Alex Buchan will die of a bowel disorder. Overcoming the grief of these unfortunate deaths will help prepare you for when the toll increases dramatically later on in the voyage.
CROSSING THE ATLANTIC
26 AUGUST–13 NOVEMBER 1768
Out of Plymouth, and through much of September 1768, The Endeavour will be buffeted by gales and heavy rain; in the worst of the storms, one of the small boats will be washed overboard, along with a lot of poultry. But on the 13th of the month, everyone aboard will get some welcome relief during a four day stopover at the port of FUNCHAL on the island of MADEIRA.
While the ship is being re-caulked and painted here, you will have a chance for a spot of shore leave: Funchal is a busy port, so you can expect the usual conglomeration of bars and brothels. However, there will be little time for sightseeing because by day you will be transporting fresh supplies and loading them onto the Endeavour: an extra 20 pounds of onions per seaman, 270 pounds of fresh beef, a live bullock, plus 1,200 gallons of beer, 1,600 of spirits and 3,032 of wine.
On Wednesday 26 October, you will reach the EQUATOR – ‘crossing the line’ – and have the chance to participate in the Navy’s equivalent of bungee jumping: any sailor who has never crossed the line before will be ducked in the ocean three times. Suspended above the yardarm, you will be fastened by rope to three pieces of wood – one between your legs, one between your hands and the other above your head – hoisted as high as possible and plunged rapidly beneath the waves before being pulled up again. You are not obliged to take part in this ceremony, but if you don’t you’ll forfeit four days of alcohol rations.
By the time RIO DE JANEIRO comes into view on Sunday 13 November, you will be chomping at the bit to sample its many delights. However, the Viceroy of Brazil, Dom Antonio Rolim de Moura, has other ideas. Unimpressed by the Endeavour’s scientific credentials, Senhor de Moura is convinced you are up to no good and refuses to allow anybody, even Cook, to set foot in the city, though he will permit you to take on food and water. Annoyed and frustrated, twelve crew members will defy his orders and slip undetected into Rio, where they will be immediately arrested for smuggling and spend a night in a hideous jail cell with other prisoners, who are chained to the walls, only to be released after Cook writes an infuriated letter to the Viceroy.
INTO THE PACIFIC
2 DECEMBER 1768–12 APRIL 1769
As you sail the 300 miles to Cape Horn, the southernmost tip of Latin America, you will notice the temperature drop dramatically and Cook will issue your cold weather clothing. It’s a new year, too, and on 11 January 1769, you reach Tiera del Fuego, where you will find locals living in round beehive shaped dwellings with wooden frames covered with sealskins and brushwood. They’re a hospitable bunch.
After this brief respite, you will face the toughest phase of your trip so far: getting round CAPE HORN. You will have to negotiate the STRAIT LE MAIRE, a funnel-like passage beset by storms that send tidal surges racing through its bottleneck. Three times Endeavour, tossed like a twig on the foaming waves, will fail to get through before finally making it out of this deathtrap.
A few days later, you will drop anchor at the BAY OF GOOD SUCCESS and meet its inhabitants with their distinctive black and red body paint, while the botanists head inland to search for specimens. Leaving here on 21 January, there is nothing but the endless horizon of the Pacific in front of you. Time passes slowly. Weeks stretch into months, the monotony somewhat relieved by warmer weather, the variety of marine life on show, and the knowledge – passed on by some of the crew who had been on HMS Dolphin when it visited Tahiti in 1767 – that your next port of call is home to some of the nicest people on earth.
&n
bsp; TAHITI
13 APRIL–14 JULY 1769
Finally, you will see land, a tiny speck in the ocean called LAGOON ISLAND. You will then pass a few others like it before MATAVIA BAY appears with its palm trees and pristine beaches, the locals coming to greet you in their sixty-foot canoes, bringing a warm welcome and food to trade for beads and cloth. A decimal system is used for counting; Tahitians have signs for numbers from 1 to 20 – enabling them to count up to 20,000 – and they follow the lunar calendar and use astronomy to interpret the stars.
TAHITIAN LIFE
At the top of the TAHITIAN SOCIAL SYSTEM is the ARI’I (chief), then the TAHU’A (priests), followed by RA’ATIRI (minor nobility), and MANAHUNE (regular folk). These distinctions aren’t immediately obvious, as everyone you meet will appear to be on the same level. There are clues, though, across the island in their MARAE – burial sites. These are often just a pile of rocks, but sometimes quite elaborate memorials made of coral stone with steps and an altar with carved wooden posts. The largest is at OPOOREONOO – a pyramid with elevent huge steps to a platform. According to legend, the MAUWE, the island’s gods, giants with seven heads and superhuman powers, inhabited the earth long before man showed up.
All ranks of Tahitians wear little in the way of CLOTHING, which is made from bark. This is peeled from trees in strips, melded together with fine paste and beaten flat with large wooden tools, before other strips of beaten bark are added crosswise. The resulting material is dyed in red, brown and yellow. The Tahitian’s are keen on TATAUS (tattoos), created using bone and soot, and you might want to get one of their unique tribal symbols as a memento.
There is an abundance of EXOTIC FRUIT AND VEGETABLES available, pigs run wild, and a Tahitian speciality is ROAST DOG. It’s worth conquering any aversion you might have to canine cuisine (Cook will record that he’s never eaten sweeter meat). First, the dog has all its hair burned off, then its entrails are removed and washed clean. Meanwhile, a fire is started at the bottom of a hole in the ground about a foot deep. When the flames are strong enough, stones are put on top and, once they are red-hot, the fire is extinguished. Green leaves are placed on the stones, the dog and its guts are laid on them with a covering of more leaves, and oven-grilled.
TAHITIAN WOMEN PERFORM THE TIMORODEE. LOOK OUT FOR APPLES.
When dining, you will notice that men and women never eat together. This is forbidden (tapu). You will also have to bring your own booze if you want any alcohol with your meal; the Tahitians serve nothing but coconut milk and water.
You will be treated to a great deal of MUSIC played on hand drums of hollow wood with a membrane of shark’s skin, and four-holed, fifteeninch-long bamboo flutes, which are inserted in the nostril and blown. The DANCES that these instruments accompany are segregated by gender. The female ones often feature girls on the verge of puberty: during the TIMORODEE DANCE, two groups of near-naked young women split into opposing groups and throw apples at each other. MALE DANCES are more warlike and based around wrestling poses. WRESTLING is popular on the island, so you will get to see the real thing as well.
Property will be the main cause of friction during your stay. The Tahitians have a ‘what’s mine is yours’ attitude; private property is a totally alien concept, and theft, therefore is a meaningless term. Because theirs is a Stone Age culture, the locals are particularly drawn to objects made from glass or metal. One day after arrival, two of the gentlemen will have their pockets picked, one losing his spyglass, the other his snuff box. From then on, things will keep vanishing. On the whole, they will be recovered without bloodshed, but when a musket is snatched from a sailor’s hands the ‘thief’ is promptly shot dead. After an iron rake goes missing on 14 June, Cook, at his wits end, will conficate all the canoes in the bay until it is returned.
There will also be a lot of bartering, done primarily by the Tahitian women, who will exchange sexual favours for coveted objects such as the ship’s iron nails. To prevent this, Cook will issue five rules, four of which (the other simply instructs you to be friendly) relate to unauthorised bargaining with the locals; one explicitly forbids trading iron for anything except food. To show how serious he is, Cook will have a seaman flogged for filching nails from the stores.
More often than not, the women will give themselves freely. You will find the Tahitian attitude to sex remarkably liberal. Nor will you witness any resentment, jealousy or possessiveness from the menfolk; both husbands and fathers seem happy to share. In this relaxed environment, it’s no surprise that the majority of the crew will have intimate relations with Tahitian women – some casual encounters, others more serious affairs.
TRANSIT OF VENUS
Regardless of the many delights on offer, your reason for being on Tahiti is to observe the TRANSIT OF VENUS. Cook will order a FORT built to safely store the astronomical instruments – a brass quadrant, a newly patented azimuth compass, a high quality sextant, and two telescopes with Gregorian reflectors and parabolic mirrors. Work on the fort will start almost immediately on arrival, and you will help construct a high-spiked palisade with swivel guns at each corner, boxing in a series of big tents. For extra security, the two big on-ship guns will be trained on the woods next to the fort.
The quadrant will be set up on 1 May, only to be stolen the following day. Infuriated, Cook will detain all the large Tahitian canoes until it reappears. Thankfully, that evening it is returned undamaged. On the day itself, Saturday 3 June, the conditions will initially appear perfect, but then clouds will gather and obscure the view – Cook will complain of ‘an Atmosphere or dusky-shade round the body of the planet’. As a result, none of the three readings taken match up, making it impossible to get any accurate measurements.
By 9 July, you will be ready to set off again, along with a young Tahitian, TUPIA, who has a smattering of English. However, departure will be delayed by the hunt for two seamen, CLEMENT WEBB and SAM GIBSON, who have not unreasonably decided to desert the ship so they can stay with their Tahitian girlfriends. A search party will be sent ashore and, to ensure the locals’ cooperation, their chief is taken hostage. Within twenty-four hours, the two lovesick sailors will be back on the Endeavour, and you will begin the next phase of your adventure.
NEW ZEALAND
SEPTEMBER 1769–1 APRIL 1770
En route to New Zealand, the Endeavour will call in at the SOCIETY ISLANDS, whose inhabitants will sacrifice an eighty-pound hog in your honour. It is an isolated highlight. September will bring violent storms, colder weather and mounting tension; when, if ever, will land appear? Cook knows there is something out there thanks to the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, who sighted New Zealand in 1642, but Tasman only skirted the North Island; you will trace every nook and cranny of the whole coastline.
Finally, on 8 October, a panorama of white cliffs, sandy bays, wooded hills, river valleys and two majestic purple mountains will come into view. As you get nearer, you will see a string of huts on the beach and MAORIS with their warpaint and tattoos paddling towards you in their fifty-foot-long and five-foot-wide war canoes, each capable of holding a hundred men, hurling spears and making aggressive noises. Your musket fire will force them to turn round, with one warrior killed. An attempt to go ashore fares no better; there is a standoff between you and the Maoris, armed with patoo patoo – heavy, hand-held weapons with sharp, serrated blades of green stone. Though Tupia will try to chat with the Maoris and offer gifts, there is more musket fire and another dead warrior. A second landing ends just as badly, with four further Maori casualties. It’s no wonder Cook dubs the area POVERTY BAY.
MAORI WAR CANOES – NOT A WELCOMING SIGHT.
Many of your subsequent encounters with the Maoris will be hostile. At the appropriately named KIDNAPPER’S BAY, Tayeto, Tupia’s boy helper, is snatched, and force of arms will be required to get him back, while at the BAY OF ISLANDS you will need a volley from the big ship guns to disperse a force of two hundred armed Maoris.
However, there will be friendlier relati
ons, especially at TOLAGA BAY, where you will stay seven days and get a taste of local life and culture. The Maoris are superb fishermen, using lobster traps made from twigs and huge trawling nets. Their clothes are made from a hemp-like plant (barkeke), their homes constructed round a frame of sticks and thatched with long grass. You will be pleased to note that every dwelling has a basic outside toilet. Their music is played on wooden flutes and shell trumpets. During their DANCES, the women wear head dresses with black feathers, while the men’s WAR DANCES, in their authentic form, will be familiar to any rugby fans.
On 9 November, you will successfully observe the TRANSIT OF MERCURY, before circumnavigating the South Island. You will find a good berth for fishing and supplies of fresh water at MURDERERS BAY near Queen Charlotte Sound, and leave New Zealand on 1 April.
AUSTRALIA (NEW HOLLAND)
19 APRIL–22 AUGUST 1770
On 19 April comes a historic moment as the lookout spots the coastline of what Cook calls Terra Australia Incognita. Searching for a place to drop anchor, Cook passes and names a series of features – Cape Upright, Pigeon House, Cape St George, Long Nose and Red Point – before landing at a spot that is soon dubbed BOTANY BAY.
As you enter the bay, on 29 April, you will get your first glimpse of ABORIGINES. There will be a group of huts on shore, and two of the inhabitants, one old, one young, will approach the Endeavour. Due to mutual incomprehension and suspicion, spears will be thrown and muskets fired, leaving one Aborigine slightly wounded and their huts abandoned. Despite this inauspicious beginning, subsequent contacts with the Aborigines will be peaceable, if tentative. You will notice that the males have beards, bone piercings through their noses, and faces and bodies painted with white pigments. They usually appear armed, carrying three-foot wooden sticks that propel four-pointed bone darts, shields and boomerangs (be aware that none of Cook’s company will know how these work). The women, wearing not much apart from shell necklaces and bracelets, will keep their distance from you.