‘Mysterious Greenland’ authors remind readers why the world’s superpowers lust after Greenland so

Posted: July 27, 2026 in Mysterious Greenland, Underground Knowledge
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The United States is keenly motivated to control Greenland as the world’s biggest island remains key to its maintaining a strategic foothold in the Arctic; for Europe the region represents a frontier of joint security and environmental stewardship; for China it is part of a broader strategy to expand globally and to secure resources; and for Russia it represents a region where other nations’ Arctic positioning must be countered.

Authors James and Lance Morcan make this point in the Introduction of their new release book MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization – Book 10 in their contentious Underground Knowledge Series.

The full Introduction from Mysterious Greenland follows:

Introduction

“We are going to do something in Greenland, whether they like it or not, because if we don’t do it, Russia or China will take over Greenland, and we’re not going to have Russia or China as a neighbor.” –President Donald J. Trump, White House press conference, January 2026

What’s all the fuss about Greenland? Why has this enigmatic, mostly inhospitable and largely ice-covered Danish outpost been featuring so regularly in world headlines in recent years and why do world leaders seem to lust after it?

We believe this book, which is the latest in a series of books that required exhaustive research, will enlighten you enough to at least make educated guesses as to the aforementioned questions and various other queries you may have regarding this perplexing land in the far north.

Over a decade ago, we first tackled these and other questions when conducting research for one of our earlier non-fiction books – research that touched in part on Greenlandic mysteries and which also led to a novel of ours set on the massive Arctic island that is Greenland.

Those “other questions” relate to what we term “underground knowledge” which we define as being concepts and little-known events usually not reported by Mainstream Media, or if they are they’re severely underreported for various reasons. Reasons that don’t always stack up.

There’s no doubt Greenland, the world’s biggest island and part of the Kingdom of Denmark, has had numerous unusual and unexplained events throughout its colorful history.

So, hopefully, by the end of this book you will agree it makes sense that Mysterious Greenland belongs in this series of ours titled The Underground Knowledge Series.

A frozen afterthought now the focus of desire

The arrival of the 21st Century has seen renewed interest in Greenland with world leaders eyeing it with undisguised greed.

Land previously considered a frozen afterthought on a world map has become a focal point of geopolitical desire.

This book explores the many layers of that desire combined with the enduring fascination over Greenland’s people and the enigmatic events and beliefs that remain such an intriguing part of their history.

Geographically, it is strategically placed, located as it is between North America and Europe, straddling the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans. Once considered peripheral, it is now front of mind in discussions about international security, global strategy, rare earth minerals and climate change. Or perhaps that should read Climate Change? Forgive us, we digress.

President Trump’s renewed interest

Nowhere has the obsession over Greenland been more obvious than in United States President Donald Trump’s renewed interest in the big island. His expressed interest in invading this self-governing territory – since watered down to merely purchasing it – was not without historical precedent: United States Presidents had previously attempted to buy Greenland from Denmark in 1867 and again in 1946.

Trump’s proposal, however, brought the issue back into the spotlight big time with the two-term president highlighting Greenland’s strategic and military importance, and its natural resources.

It came as no surprise that Greenlandic and Danish officials firmly rejected the purchase proposal, reminding Trump and everyone else that Greenland ain’t for sale.

We provide more in depth analysis about Trump’s designs on Greenland in later chapters.

Meanwhile, it shouldn’t be forgotten that American interest in it highlights several key issues. Namely: Greenland is the gateway to the Arctic, which is becoming the focus of extreme geopolitical argy-bargy; its strategic value is recognized by the major powers and its future will require navigation of the ambitions of world leaders; it has increasing influence on international affairs; and it features prominently in conversations spanning climate, global strategy and competition for rare earth minerals and other resources.

Other interested parties

Apart from Trump, quite a few other parties have been focused on the icy kingdom.

As mentioned, in 1867 when US President Andrew Johnson had authorized the purchase of Alaska from the Russians, there was also a strong push to buy Greenland. Obviously, that never came about.

Something else that was never realized were the Nazis’ plans during World War Two to set up military bases throughout Greenland. They did erect several weather stations, but ultimately failed to establish military bases for reasons that remain unknown.

Shortly after World War Two, in 1949, America’s Central Intelligence Agency, or CIA, declassified a map of Greenland which outlined strategic locations that included the all-important site where Thule Air Base would eventually be built. This map was confirmation of long-term CIA plans and operations in Greenland that were previously unknown to the public.

These seemingly extensive activities possibly related to the Office of Strategic Services, or OSS, which was America’s first centralized intelligence and unconventional warfare agency and forerunner to the CIA. Either that or they related to the onset of the long-lasting Cold War – that postwar, ideological rivalry between the Soviet Union and the West.

Today, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, or NASA, also uses Greenland as a science hub partly for climate research as well as testing space equipment in a place they claim simulates other planets.

Meanwhile Lockheed Martin Corporation, the American defense and aerospace manufacturer, also carries out research and defense projects in Greenland. For example, they are involved in radar coverage with America’s Pituffik Space Base (formerly Thule Air Base).

Freedom under American elites

Certain billionaires aligned with President Trump at the time of publication of this book – including Silicon Valley investors Peter Thiel and Marc Andreesen – have floated the idea of a utopian, futuristic “Freedom City” in Greenland.

On April 11, 2025, Reuters ran an article about this headed “Greenland ‘Freedom City’? Rich donors push Trump for a tech hub up north.”

“As the Trump administration intensifies,” the article states, “efforts to acquire Greenland from Denmark – or take it by force – some Silicon Valley tech investors are promoting the frozen island as a site for a so-called freedom city, a libertarian utopia with minimal corporate regulation, three people familiar with the matter told Reuters.”

The Reuters article continues: “The freedom-city movement reflects a fascination with settling new American frontiers, rooted in nostalgia for the nation’s 1800s western expansion. Expanding to Greenland ‘can be the dawn of a new Manifest Destiny,’ said tech investor Shervin Pishevar, referring to the 19th-century philosophy that America was an exceptional nation with a God-given mission to conquer territory.”

We break down this planned Arctic Freedom Zone in Chapter 10 to analyze what this all really means for Greenland and what these technocrats are looking to achieve.

A history shaped by location and ambition

Greenland’s 57,000 people are primarily Inuit with a smaller Danish minority. At one with the land and sea, they are products of the Arctic environment which undoubtedly accounts for the resilience and adaptability they are known for.

Incidentally, the population figure of 57,000 quoted above is no typo. That equates to only one person every 15 square miles based on Greenland’s estimated size of 836,330 square miles, which is roughly three times the size of Texas and similar in size to Mexico or Saudi Arabia.

These comparisons provide an insight into how big and how sparsely populated this Danish outpost is.

While the Danish and English languages play important roles in administration and international communication, the Greenlandic language Kalaallisut remains a cornerstone of Greenlanders’ identity.

The indigenous Inuit have inhabited the country over thousands of years, surviving in one of the harshest climates on Earth. Their traditional hunting practices have been refined over millennia. These coexist in harmony with modern healthcare, education, and digital connectivity primarily introduced by the Danes.

Greenland’s history has been poetically described as a tapestry woven from indigenous resilience, colonial influence, and global strategic maneuvering.

Scandinavian Vikings from Iceland arrived sometime between 982 to 986AD, depending on which historian you listen to or which Icelandic saga you read. Also referred to as Norse settlers, they were led by one Erik the Red and they established two farming colonies in southern Greenland referred to as the Grænlendingar.

The Norse disappeared in the 15th Century for reasons not entirely understood but possibly prompted by the arrival of Thule Inuit, the ancestors of modern Inuit.

Originating from Alaska around 1000 CE, the Thule Inuit migrated eastward across Canada, replacing the earlier Dorset culture. Specialized maritime hunters, they used dog sleds, skin boats, and whaling technology.

Denmark enters the picture

In the 18th century, Denmark added Greenland to its colonial empire, asserting total control over it. Despite that, Greenland remained isolated for much of the 19th and early 20th centuries with limited contact with the outside world.

All that changed with the outbreak of World War Two.

When Germany invaded Denmark in 1940, the United States effectively occupied Greenland, building airfields, military installations, weather stations and other facilities in recognition of the country’s strategic importance.

Denmark regained control of Greenland after the war, but the United States presence remained.

The 1951 defense agreement between the United States and Denmark formalized American access to Greenlandic territory, especially the Thule Air Base – since renamed the Pituffik Space Base.

That agreement would shape the rest of Greenland’s 20th Century history, influencing its economy, politics, and relationship with both the United States and Denmark.

Greenland has certainly asserted its autonomy in the 21st Century, no doubt enjoying the proverbial spotlight resulting from global warming and the melting Arctic ice, the worldwide demand for strategic landmass and associated resources, including the discovery of rare earth minerals.

Partnerships with the United States, China and other countries have been explored with financial gain and prosperity in mind, all the while negotiating the complexities of international politics not to mention environmental factors like land and animal welfare.

Governance through early 2000s

Although part of the Kingdom of Denmark, Greenland enjoys extensive self-rule.  Home rule was introduced in 1979 and self-government in 2009, and since then Greenland has made steady gains, expanding its autonomy, natural resources, domestic policies and its internal affairs.

All the while Denmark has retained overall authority over Greenland’s finances, defense and foreign policy. It’s a delicate balance in status with Greenland hovering somewhere between being fully independent and remaining a mere colony or adjunct to Denmark.

Greenland’s isolation and geography effectively shape its governance with settlements scattered along the coast and a landmass largely covered by an ice sheet, which scientists advise is two miles thick in places.

Most of those same settlements have limited roads and are accessible primarily by air or sea, and in some cases only accessible by air or sea. Consequently, its citizens have a strong sense of communal responsibility and naturally gravitate toward local governance. After all, how much could someone sitting in an office or parliamentary building in Denmark’s capital city Copenhagen actually know about the challenges Inuit residences face in isolated communities?

Obviously, navigating the outside interest of global powers and surviving in the Arctic environment raises constant challenges, complicating decision-making and political cohesion as well as expansion of industry and economic diversification – not to mention survival.

Climatic uniqueness

Straddling the Arctic and Atlantic Oceans, and jammed between North America and Europe, Greenland’s climate is dominated by ice, snow, and extreme seasonal variations. In this, the world’s biggest island, summers are short and filled with endless daylight while winters are dark and seemingly never-ending; and the ice sheet, which covers around four fifths of the country, sets it apart environmentally and geopolitically.

As climate change accelerates, Greenland’s ice is melting at unprecedented rates. At least that’s the official spin on the big melt.

We would suggest that Greenland’s ice is melting faster than ever in recorded history or faster than ever in living memory perhaps, but that’s a whole other discussion or scientific debate we will save for a future book. Regardless, the undeniably changing environment has profound side-effects.

As the ice melts and glaciers retreat, new Arctic shipping routes are opening, offering quicker and smoother global trade pathways and providing access to once inaccessible mineral resources; and the island’s coastline is expanding, offering new opportunities.

And this “great ice melt” leading to new shipping routes opening is likely a reason for some of the renewed interest in the big island. 

Strategic uniqueness

It is no exaggeration to say Greenland is a linchpin in the security of the Arctic region.

Its location gives inhabitants a huge advantage in monitoring North Atlantic shipping routes and polar airspace.

The United States recognized this during the Cold War, establishing the Thule Air Base in the early 1950s. It became a key component of early-warning radar systems designed to detect Soviet missile launches, and today, the (renamed) Pituffik Space Base serves the Americans as an indispensable facility for missile defense, space surveillance, and Arctic operations generally.

In this era of increasing competition between world powers, other nations are eyeing Greenland, too, meaning its strategic value has only increased.

China, which has openly declared itself as a “near-Arctic state” is investing heavily in polar research and infrastructure while Russia is ever-expanding its military presence in the region.

At the same time, Canada and European nations are recalibrating their Arctic strategies along with the United States.

All the aforementioned nations are very aware that Greenland’s location makes it a critical base for Arctic shipping routes, military logistics, missile defense systems, and space surveillance as well as climate research.

Located as it is at the crossroads of future trade routes as the ice continues to melt, Greenland offers whoever has control of the island the opportunity to assert their authority over those routes. Such control could reshape global commerce. Add to that unsurpassed access to Greenland’s rare earth minerals and the Arctic’s significant untapped oil and gas reserves.

All these advantages combine to make the island’s medium and long-term potential powerful motivators for interested parties globally.

The United States is keenly motivated to control Greenland as the island remains key to its maintaining a strategic foothold in the Arctic; for Europe the region represents a frontier of joint security and environmental stewardship; for China it is part of a broader strategy to expand globally and to secure resources; and for Russia it represents a region where other nations’ Arctic positioning must be countered.

Subterranean treasures of global interest

Beneath Greenland’s ice, earth and water lie vast deposits of “rare earths”, or rare earth elements and, unsurprisingly, these natural resources are attracting huge interest globally. They include materials essential for the likes of electric vehicles, wind turbines, smartphones, and advanced military technologies. Materials that are considered strategically indispensable as the world transitions to high-tech manufacturing and renewable energy.

In addition to rare earths, Greenland has major quantities of gold, platinum, uranium, zinc, lead, and iron ore as well as freshwater resources and offshore oil and natural gas reserves.

As global interest in these reserves increases, locally – within Greenland and Denmark to a degree – concern is mounting over the big island’s financial independence and environmental protection as well as the obvious risks of foreign influence and, more especially, interference.

Greenlandic Underground Knowledge

Beyond the known and reported subjects mentioned so far, our opinion after years of research is that one cannot truly grasp the factors behind the immense global interest in Greenland without also factoring in “underground knowledge” – both proven, albeit often underreported facts, along with more speculative theories.

For this reason, we cover in parts of this book many little known topics that are sometimes theories but other times “conspiracy facts” – that is events or projects that were previously mere conjecture before eventually being declassified as factual years or even decades later.

Topics in this category include various Greenlandic mysteries such as declassified or otherwise proven projects like Operation Blue Jay, Thulegate, The Thule Society, Project Iceworm and Camp Century as well as more conspiratorial ones. The latter include possible alien artifacts found on the ice, disappearing Inuit hunters and vanishing settlements, the Ancient Civilization Hypothesis as well as various other unsolved mysteries.

You will also learn about the concept of The Breakaway Civilization and how the global elites may very well be viewing Greenland as the perfect almost virginal land in which to launch a separate civilization – separate to the rest of humanity.

Journey through Greenland’s layers of ice

As you turn the pages of this book, you will journey through the many dimensions of Greenland’s allure; you will explore its history, its resources, its strategic significance, and the myths that surround it; you see why world leaders ranging from Superpower politicians to rising global actors all view Greenland not as a frozen wasteland but as a prize worth pursuing.

You may already sense why Greenland is more than an island. It is a symbol – a canvas upon which nations project their ambitions, fears, and fantasies; its people live at the intersection of tradition and modernity, autonomy and influence, isolation and global attention; its geography shapes global climate patterns; its minerals power modern technology; its strategic location influences military planning and international diplomacy; its mysteries inspire both scientific inquiry and imaginative speculation.

Greenland’s story is still unfolding. Its ice is melting, its autonomy is growing, its secrets of the past are being uncovered, and its global importance is increasing. The world’s eyes are upon it – and the reasons why are as complex as the island itself.

–James & Lance Morcan

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MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization is available via Amazon as an audiobook and Kindle ebook. (Paperback coming soon).

https://www.amazon.com/MYSTERIOUS-GREENLAND-Breakaway-Civilization-Underground-ebook/dp/B0H8KTRBNF

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Weekly serialization of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues. Here’s Chapter 5…

Posted: July 24, 2026 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Spanning five centuries, New Zealand: A Novel is a sweeping tale of discovery, destiny, and forbidden love in which the old and new worlds collide. While this novel may not always convey exactly what happened during the discovery and settlement of New Zealand, first by Pacific Islanders and later by Europeans, I believe it captures the spirit of those sometimes romantic, always fascinating and often bloody times. –Lance Morcan (Author)

CHAPTER 5

Hawaiki, Spring, 1301 AD

The morning after the big feast in Hotu’s village, Ronui led Tautira toward the narrow gap in the reef that separated them from the open sea. Around eighty people – passengers and crew – occupied almost every bit of available space on the decks of each canoe.

First places aboard the craft had been allocated to the rangatiras and their extended families. These included Hotu’s wives and their young children aboard Ronui, and Ra’s wives and even younger children aboard Tautira. Some of the children were only babies.

The rangatiras’ extended families accounted for about twenty people on each vessel. Other places had gone to a cross-section of villagers with special skills. High on the list were navigators, sailors, fishermen and boat-builders. Most were fighting men as well. Last but not least were their womenfolk. In some cases children had had to stay behind. They’d be looked after by grandparents and other close relatives.

Hotu hadn’t even considered taking his own ageing parents, so frail were they. Besides, they considered themselves too much a permanent part of Hawaiki to consider leaving. Saying goodbye to them proved an unbearable sadness for the rangatira.

Many of those departing wailed mournfully as they sailed away from their beautiful island. Men chanted to their island gods while their wahines cried out despairingly. Oblivious to their sadness, naked children scampered over the decks. Behind them, Hawaiki’s palm trees swayed in the balmy breeze and the jungle-covered peaks were framed by a tropical blue sky.

On the black sand beach, villagers looked on forlornly as their loved-ones sailed away even though many of them were hoping to depart soon aboard the other seven canoes. Those vessels were now within ten days of completion.

Crewmembers aboard the departing craft were too busy to look back. They worked frantically adjusting the triangular sails in readiness for the open sea beyond the reef. The cries of those ashore faded amidst the constant boom of waves crashing on the reef. Ronui led Tautira through the small gap. In the space of a few heartbeats they were into the open sea.

Aboard Ronui, a thousand different emotions racked Hotu as he eyed the southern horizon. Lost in thought, he rubbed the stub of the extra finger on his right hand. Alongside him, Kafoa emulated his father, rubbing the stub of the extra finger on his left hand, a habit the boy had acquired without even realising it. Behind them, Ra followed aboard Tautira, never more than a stone’s throw astern.

In the weeks ahead, the crews of the two craft would strive to maintain this formation through torrential rain and high winds and every other challenge the sea could throw at them.

#

Spring gave way to summer and the voyagers found themselves at the point of no return – the point reached in every ocean voyage where to continue and not find land meant certain death. Hotu and Ra instinctively knew they had reached that point.

It had been four weeks since they’d set sail for Kupe’s land aboard Ronui and Tautira. In that time, the giant craft had been battered by almost everything except a tidal wave or full-blown cyclone. Still they’d never been more than fifty yards apart, secured to each other by a length of platted twine fashioned from strong jungle vines. Without it they would have been separated very early on in the voyage.

The canoes were barely recognisable as the proud craft they’d once been, such was the terrible hammering they’d received from the elements. Their crews and passengers looked even more pathetic. They were in the early stages of starvation; the signs of malnutrition could already be seen in the children. All on board were cold, wet and tired, and many had developed hacking coughs. The coughing sickness they called it.

The first storm had struck only a week into the voyage, and in that early test of the travellers’ fortitude, two of Tautira’s passengers had been lost, swept overboard. Successive storms claimed another two lives – one from each canoe – and the loss of vital provisions as well. Those provisions included all the pigs and half the dogs. To make matters worse, both craft had been dismasted and the replacement makeshift masts were precariously insecure.

The previous day they had been hit by the tail-end of a cyclone. Fortunately, they missed the worst of it. No Polynesian craft had ever survived the full might of a cyclone at sea. As it was, those aboard Ronui and Tautira barely escaped with their lives. Only quick-thinking by the canoe captains prevented total disaster. As soon as the winds hit, the crews collapsed the masts and semi-collapsed the canoes themselves – a desperate manoeuvre but a life-saving one in those conditions. In their semi-submerged state, the craft became almost impossible to capsize and therefore less likely to sink. When the storm passed they were reassembled so they could once more function as canoes, no mean feat given the task had to be entirely carried out at sea.

This latest catastrophe had seen much of the remaining food being lost overboard, but at least no more lives had been lost. Most of the rats on board appeared to have survived, too. These previously unwelcome stowaways were already being used to supplement the meagre rations.

Still the Hawaikans sailed on – ever southward.

The challenges of recent weeks had not been totally unexpected. Hotu knew, like Kupe before him, they were going against Polynesian seafaring tradition by sailing south. To find Kupe’s land meant sailing across the wind, and, worse, downwind. Thousands of years of Pacific exploration had involved sailing upwind, against the prevailing easterly tradewinds. While sailing upwind was slower, the return journey was always faster. This was a critical factor if sailors were out of food and at the limit of their endurance. Downwind voyages were far more dangerous. Sailors had to be able to judge when to turn back before it was too late.

Hotu realised they may have made a serious error of judgement regarding the weather. Although they’d avoided the worst of the cyclone season, they had not anticipated the cold temperatures they were now experiencing. As they continued south, each day seemed cooler than the last. Their bark cloth breechclouts, mat lava-lavas and ponchos of overlapping ti leaves were not warm enough. Even the dog-skin or feathered cloaks worn by the rangatiras and navigators failed to keep the cold at bay. No-one was to blame for this oversight for this was the first time any Polynesian had willingly ventured this far south since Kupe’s day. Any reports from back then had been long forgotten.

At Hotu’s command, the line connecting the two canoes was shortened to around thirty yards. Their survival could well depend on the flimsy vessels staying together.

#

Aboard Ronui, Hotu and Ra sat staring at each other in silence, each weighed down by the gravity of the decision they had to make. They always met at first light each day to discuss their progress. On this occasion, Ra had crossed over to Hotu’s canoe.

More than a week had elapsed since the storm that caused the near capsize of the two vessels. More deaths – four aboard Tautira and three aboard Ronui – had occurred since then, the meagre food supplies had all but been exhausted and the remaining passengers and crew were starving. Worse, the condition of the canoes, which somehow miraculously remained tethered together, was deteriorating by the day. They wouldn’t survive many more storms.

The rangatiras were only thankful their wives and children were still alive. Even so, the uncertainty each man felt was mirrored in the other’s eyes.

It was Ra who spoke first. “I say we turn back.”

Hotu remained silent.

“We have angered the ocean gods,” Ra continued. “They have been voicing their displeasure since the day we left Hawaiki. If they had wanted us to find land, we would have seen the signs by now… Land birds or driftwood… or something.”

Still Hotu didn’t speak. The big rangatira could hear his friend, but he was listening for another voice. Kupe’s voice. Sometimes, when he needed advice, he imagined he could hear his great ancestor’s spirit talking to him. He desperately wanted to receive a message from Kupe’s spirit today. Unfortunately, all he could hear was the wind in the rigging. Always the wind. Disappointed, he turned his attention back to Ra, resigned to receiving no help from the spirit world. “We must continue to Kupe’s land,” he said at length.

Ra was about to remonstrate, but restrained himself when he saw the determination in his opposite’s eyes.

Hotu continued, “If we had sufficient food and provisions, and if our craft were still seaworthy, I would consider turning back. Look at the state of your canoe,” he said, pointing at Tautira, which trailed close behind Ronui’s stern like a permanent shadow.

Ra looked back at the other vessel. It bobbed along in the moderate seas, perilously low in the water, its foremast barely holding together since the last repair job, and its occupants lolling about listlessly on deck, cold and hungry, clinging to life in the hope they would reach their elusive destination. To supplement their food rations they caught what fish they could, but the quantities were never enough to satisfy their hunger.

“You are right,” Ra said resignedly. “We would not survive the return journey.”

Hotu nodded gravely. “It would take six weeks or more, sailing into the wind, to reach Hawaiki. Our remaining food rations will last a few days at most…”

There was no need to speak further. Both men knew what had to be done. Kupe’s land was still somewhere ahead of them. They had to find it quickly before it was too late.

A feeling of calm descended on Hotu. He felt the pull of the southern land stronger than ever. The feeling gave him renewed confidence. Maybe Kupe’s spirit had communicated with him after all.

#

Ronui and Tautira maintained steady progress as the prevailing winds carried them ever southward. Several days had elapsed since Hotu and Ra made the sobering decision to continue their journey to what could well be the end of the world. In that time temperatures had further dropped, adding to the challenges the surviving voyagers faced – starvation not the least of them. Everyone on board prayed they’d find Kupe’s land before they died of hunger or drowned, or before they reached Earth’s edge.

Storms continued to batter the two canoes every two or three days. Still the craft shadowed each other, never more than thirty yards apart thanks to the makeshift lifeline that had somehow held fast.

At the stern of Ronui, Kafoa sat alongside Hotu who was steering the canoe in order to give the craft’s navigator Rangi some well-deserved sleep. The boy was never far from his father’s side. Despite the risks and hardships facing them all, Kafoa remained in his element, happy to be following in the wake of his great ancestor Kupe. Even in the face of disaster, he could not contain his excitement.

Hotu observed his son with pride as he adjusted the tiller to compensate for a big ocean swell. The rangatira had seen the boy grow in courage and maturity in recent weeks. It saddened him to think he would perish, along with everyone else, if they didn’t find land soon. Apart from half a dozen scrawny dogs and the last of an uninvited colony of rats, the food reserves were almost gone. Survival could now be measured in days.

“Papa,” Kafoa said, interrupting Hotu’s thoughts, “where did our people come from?”

Hotu smiled to himself. His son’s thirst for knowledge constantly amazed him. “Our distant ancestors ventured out of vast lands to the west and –” 

“What were these lands called?”

Hotu shrugged. His people had long forgotten their Asian roots.

“Well, what did the people look like?”

“Some say they had yellow skin and slit eyes.”

 Kafoa looked incredulous. “Truly, papa?”

Hotu nodded. “Some say it was because they angered the gods who punished them by changing their appearance. As our ancestors travelled eastwards, from island nation to island nation, they pleased the gods who then changed them back to how they used to look.”

“Like we look today?”

Hotu nodded.

“Ah.” Now Kafoa understood.

Hotu explained how their ancestors had become great seafarers, first sailing as far as Samoa and later Hawaiki and then on to Tahiti. “They followed the signs to find new lands.” He looked keenly at his son. “Now it is your turn… Tell me about the signs our great Hawaikan navigators follow at sea.”

Eager to reveal all that he’d learned, Kafoa said, “The stars guide them by night and the sun by day.”

“What if the day is cloudy and the sun is hidden?”

“The sun and stars are not the only signs. There are many others.”

“Tell me about them.”

Kafoa described other signs like the sighting of land birds, the direction of the wind, waves and currents, and how the equatorial current swept west past most Pacific islands – something early voyagers had used to their advantage.

Hotu struggled to conceal how impressed he was by his son’s knowledge. “You did not mention how ocean swells signal the presence of land.” He spoke so gruffly it almost sounded like a rebuke.

Kafoa frowned. “What do the ocean swells show?”

“Within a day’s sailing from land, the swells die down.”

Kafoa considered this for a moment. The seafaring and navigational skills of his people never ceased to amaze him. He would be even more impressed when he learned about the formation of clouds over high islands and how the opalescent colour of lagoons was reflected in those same clouds, which could be seen from far out at sea; and how bright lights flashed backwards and forwards in deep water, pointing to land – a ghostly phenomenon that could be seen up to a day’s sailing from shore, especially on dark, wet nights. But that would be revealed in another discussion on another day. After a short silence, he asked, “Papa, are we going to find Kupe’s land?”

Hotu hesitated for a moment. “Yes, son,” he said with more confidence than he felt.

The boy looked relieved for he believed his father without question. “When?” he persisted.

“Maybe tomorrow,” a grim-faced Hotu murmured as he scanned the southern horizon. “Maybe the next day.”

Satisfied, Kafoa scampered off toward the bow, leaving his father deep in thought.

Now alone at the tiller, Hotu pondered his son’s last question. He was aware that all he could be certain of was if they did not find land soon, they would die.

#

Every day now the Hawaikan voyagers were burying someone at sea. Usually it was the children who succumbed first. Now, as hunger and cold took their toll, more adults were being condemned to a watery grave as well. Already Ronui’s eighty passengers and crew had been reduced to seventy, and Tautira’s human cargo had fared almost as badly.

In the two days since Hotu explained to his son where Hawaikans originally came from, the weather had worsened. The big storm the rangatira had feared hit soon after nightfall and almost without warning. In barely the blink of an eye, the easterly squall which had dogged the voyagers became a howling gale. Again, the capsizing of the canoes was only avoided through the quick actions of their respective crews who expertly dismantled and semi-submerged their craft. Even so, it had been a close-run thing.

Throughout the night, the frightened voyagers had clung to each other as the storm raged about them. Several were swept into the boiling sea and all but one of those were lost.

It was almost inevitable that Ronui and Tautira became separated. Once, when a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky, Hotu thought he saw the other canoe on the horizon, but he later realised he might have imagined it. He and his fellow voyagers aboard Ronui would never see the others again.

Dawn and the storm’s passing occurred simultaneously.

In the early morning light, the only sign that Tautira had ever existed was a length of frayed twine trailing in the water behind Ronui.

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CHAPTER 6

Aboard Ronui, only Hotu remained fully alert as yet another day dawned. He sat at the stern, manning the tiller and scanning the horizon in search of land. Kafoa slept fitfully close by, his head resting on his father’s lap. Their fellow voyagers, who now numbered less than sixty, lay sprawled before them, occupying much of the free space on the craft’s deck. Many were near death and…

NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues next week…

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Book launch of ‘MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND’ coincides with Trump’s renewed threat that the USA needs to acquire the big island

Posted: July 18, 2026 in Mysterious Greenland, Underground Knowledge
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This week’s renewed threat by President Trump that the USA needs to acquire Greenland (along with Canada and Venezuela) was accompanied by a provocative photo he posted on his social media platform showing European leaders in the Oval Office a map of those countries with an American flag superimposed over them.

Trump shows off his reconfigured map of the USA.

Trump’s post was timely given it coincided this week’s release of MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization co-authored by James and Lance Morcan.

In this, Book 10 in our contentious Underground Knowledge Series, we highlight Trump’s expressions of interest in purchasing, invading or otherwise acquiring Greenland, suggesting to our readers that something far more strategic and secretive might be unfolding.

We inform readers “certain billionaires aligned with President Trump at the time of publication of this book – including Silicon Valley investors Peter Thiel and Marc Andreesen – have floated the idea of a utopian, futuristic ‘Freedom City’ in Greenland”; and we remind them (readers) of a prominent Reuters 2025 (April 11) article headed “Greenland ‘Freedom City’? Rich donors push Trump for a tech hub up north’.”

That same article states, “As the Trump administration intensifies efforts to acquire Greenland from Denmark… some Silicon Valley tech investors are promoting the frozen island as a site for a so-called freedom city, a libertarian utopia with minimal corporate regulation…”

After many years of research, we lowly authors explore the contention that Greenland is a laboratory of the Elites, an Arctic battleground, and a potential launchpad for what some researchers call a Breakaway Civilization — an advanced, clandestine offshoot of humanity operating beyond public oversight.

Along the way, we uncover the hidden forces shaping Greenland’s past, present, and future. We highlight Inuit mysteries, disappearing Norse settlements, Ancient Civilization theories, extraterrestrial claims, WW2 enigmas and the growing belief that Greenland may hold secrets capable of reshaping our understanding of human history.

>>> Readers are welcome to join our journey into the world’s most enigmatic island at the very moment it steps onto the global stage. We refer of course to…

‘MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization’ – available now via Amazon as a Kindle ebook and audiobook.

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MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Fly over footage – July 2026

Posted: July 17, 2026 in Mysterious Greenland, Underground Knowledge
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This video relates to the publication of our new release non-fiction book MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization, co-authored by James Morcan & Lance Morcan. It is the 10th title in their controversial Underground Knowledge Series.

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Weekly serialization of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues. Here’s Chapter 4…

Posted: July 16, 2026 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Spanning five centuries, New Zealand: A Novel is a sweeping tale of discovery, destiny, and forbidden love in which the old and new worlds collide. While this novel may not always convey exactly what happened during the discovery and settlement of New Zealand, first by Pacific Islanders and later by Europeans, I believe it captures the spirit of those sometimes romantic, always fascinating and often bloody times. –Lance Morcan (Author)

CHAPTER 4

Deptford, England, July 1768

The two weeks before sailing were a blur to Nicholas. After signing the necessary recruitment papers and being formally introduced to all the officers and crew, including his master the gruff but likeable surgeon William Monkhouse, the new recruit spent the first week at home vainly trying to pacify his parents and explain why he’d joined the crew of the Endeavour. The only saving grace as far as Doctor Nicholas Young Senior was concerned was that his son would be assistant to a ship’s surgeon and so would still receive medical training, albeit at sea.

After negotiating an uneasy truce with his parents and leaving his father to explain his sudden departure from his London school to that institution’s headmaster, the lad had returned by stagecoach to London – a two-day journey from Buxton – and had boarded the Endeavour, which was still berthed at Deptford.

On board he’d thrown himself into a multitude of tasks as he assisted his fellow crewmembers to prepare for the voyage ahead. His cheerful disposition and willingness to pitch in quickly endeared him to one and all. Firm friendships soon blossomed between himself and others – in particular with Londoner Will Howson who was a year younger than Nicholas and who had signed on as the captain’s servant.

Among the more colourful characters on board were the bark’s one-armed chef, John Thompson, who would prove to be an asset despite his handicap, and the quartermaster Robert Anderson, a rowdy Scotsman who amused Nicholas and, indeed, anyone prepared to listen to his never-ending repertoire of dirty jokes and bawdy sea shanties.

There were many different nationalities represented among the men. Of the complement of ninety-five, the seventy-five men of the lower deck came from as far afield as America, Brazil, Scotland, Ireland and all parts of England. They were a mixed bunch of tough, hard-working, hard-drinking seamen.

Before departing England, the Endeavour’s muster would change several times in keeping with the usual uncertainty that surrounded any ship’s roll of personnel before departure. The muster reached ninety-six men at one stage, but before the bark set sail some jumped ship or were discharged, requiring further recruitments.

There were ninety-four men on board when the Endeavour finally departed. When the bark returned one month shy of three years later, only fifty-six of the original muster would still be on board. Deaths and desertions would take their toll.

Nicholas was surprised to discover full-strength rum was freely dispensed twice daily to every man, and every boy, too, on board. It was, they said, an old tradition. He would soon learn that drink was the downfall of many sailors, and on all ocean-going voyages fighting, accidents and occasionally deaths resulted from drunkenness at sea. Rum had long been the standard issue of drink in the Royal Navy. Those with a fondness for liquor usually found ways to supplement their rations. This voyage would be no different; the Endeavour’s log book would show numerous instances of floggings for the theft of rum. Even the quartermaster himself would be flogged twice, although in his case it would be for drunken behaviour, not theft.

Included in the muster was a contingent of thirteen armed marines whose number included Sergeant John Edgecumbe, a surly individual who tolerated no insolence from his subordinates. They looked a likely lot and the others were glad of their presence.

Also on board were astronomer Charles Green and the esteemed botanist Joseph Banks along with several scientists and artists in his employ. Banks and his assistants would collect and catalogue plant and animal specimens encountered in their travels, in particular those specimens that were unknown in Europe. A man of means, Soho-born Banks paid for berths aboard the Endeavour for himself and his hired help.

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August 7th, 1768, was a red letter day for Nicholas Young. That was the day Captain James Cook joined the vessel. Having bade farewell to his wife and children, Cook boarded the Endeavour at the Downs, downriver from Deptford. There he discharged the pilot who had earlier nursed the bark down the lower Thames in readiness for him.

Cook impressed the new surgeon’s boy just as he did any crewmember seeing him for the first time. A big man with strong features and a stern face, Cook had a commanding presence and looked older than his thirty-nine years. Nicholas quickly and accurately judged him to be a man not to be trifled with. His reputation, both as a Royal Navy fighting man and an extraordinary sailor and navigator, had preceded him.

Having Cook at the helm made Nicholas feel secure. The captain’s mere presence boosted the morale and confidence of every man aboard. It mattered not a jot to them that Cook’s rank in fact was that of a lieutenant, not a captain. All who served under him referred to him as Captain, and Cook went along with that albeit reluctantly.

The Endeavour weighed anchor and set sail the following morning for Plymouth where final provisioning would be undertaken. The five days’ easy sailing in calm weather along England’s south coast was a pleasant introduction to life at sea for Nicholas, and the gentle motion of the deck underfoot and the spray and wind in his face reinforced his conviction that this was his destiny. His only complaint was the ever-present whiff of rum and overcooked pork that permeated the air and clung to his clothes; it took some effort not to throw up in front of fellow crewmembers.

There was little for him to do this early in the voyage, so he was able to savour every moment. That changed on arrival at Plymouth where everyone was put to work stowing the last of the provisions.

Nicholas marvelled at the amount of supplies needed. There were tons of salt beef, bread, cheese, fruit and vegetables, guns, muskets, pistols, powder and shot, garments, cloth, beads and trinkets for trading, tons of beer, hundreds of gallons of rum, barrels of fresh water and much more.

It was during the layover at Plymouth that Nicholas first met the captain. Cook had cut his hand while inspecting the carpenters’ quarters below deck and had summoned Surgeon Monkhouse to attend to his wound. Nicholas accompanied the surgeon to the captain’s quarters. They paused outside the cabin door.

“Now remember lad, the captain’s an important man,” the surgeon warned, “so ye don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Nicholas nodded. He didn’t need any prompting on that score. He was already tongue-tied at the prospect of meeting Cook. Monkhouse grunted his approval and knocked on the door.

Cook opened the door. “William, my old friend, come in!” he smiled.

Nicholas was surprised the captain greeted the surgeon like a close friend. He’d expected more formality.

“And who might this be?” Cook asked, casting a stern eye over Nicholas. The lad nervously returned the other’s frank appraisal.

“This is my assistant, Nicholas –”

“Nicholas Young,” the captain interjected. “Welcome aboard, Master Young.”

“Th…thank you, Captain,” Nicholas stammered. He was impressed Cook knew his name. Monkhouse had told him earlier the captain memorised the names of all his crewmembers, even the lowliest surgeon’s boy. He noticed the surgeon had taken delight in emphasising the word lowliest.

Nicholas watched intently as his superior cleaned around the cut on Cook’s hand and applied a dressing. The wound was only superficial and the surgeon’s work was soon finished.

“There, Captain, that should give ye no further trouble,” Monkhouse said.

“Thank ye William. And for God’s sake, when you’re in my cabin it’s James.”

“Aye, Cap…ah…James.”

Cook chuckled. “William, how many times have we sailed together?”

“Four times I believe, James.”

“Four it is,” Cook agreed. “I think that’s worth a celebratory drink, don’t ye?”

Monkhouse nodded agreeably.

To Nicholas’s surprise, Cook produced three glasses from his liquor cabinet.

“Is our young recruit allowed to partake?” the captain asked Monkhouse.

The surgeon seemed as taken aback as Nicholas. He mumbled something to the affirmative and Cook promptly did the honours, filling all three glasses with rum and motioning to his visitors to join him at his table. Nicholas sat down next to Monkhouse and tentatively sampled the rum. Having never tasted liquor of any kind, he momentarily lost his breath and it took all his self-control not to cough or splutter.

For the next half hour he sat, enthralled, listening to the two seamen talk. The more he heard, the more excited he became about the adventures that lay ahead.

Cook revealed he’d just received his final orders from the Lords of the Admiralty. “The orders came in two parts. Our first assignment is to proceed to Tahiti where we must observe the next transit of Venus.”

Sensing Nicholas’s interest, and with an eye for intelligence, the captain drew the lad into the conversation. “Do ye know why this assignment is so important, Master Young?” he asked, looking directly at Monkhouse’s assistant.

“Nay, Captain.”

“Well, the learned gentlemen of the Admiralty and the Royal Society know that observing the transit of Venus will enable us to calculate the distances to the planets.”

“Why is that so important, Captain?” Nicholas asked, ignoring the warning glance Monkhouse directed his way. The surgeon was of the old school, believing boys should be seen and not heard.

Warming to one of his favourite subjects, Cook continued, “It has become a matter of international prestige, lad. There’s worldwide interest in astronomy. Calculating the distances between Earth and the sun and between Earth and Venus are the first requirements for accurately mapping the solar system.” He paused for effect. “Navigation depends on such knowledge.”

A fascinated Nicholas willed the captain to continue.

Cook obliged. “Observation of the last eclipse of the sun proved unsuccessful. Since then there have been big advances in astronomy, and it is considered essential that observation of the 1769 transit of Venus is successful. The next one won’t occur until 1874, so that makes the Tahiti observation all the more important.

“Why Tahiti, Captain…ah…James?” Monkhouse asked. He had fond memories of the South Sea paradise from an earlier voyage, but couldn’t imagine why Cook needed to sail all the way to Tahiti to observe Venus.

“It’s important we have clear skies for the observation, and the Royal Society decided a site in the Pacific would give us our best chance,” Cook explained.

“And what’s our second assignment?” the surgeon asked.

Cook hesitated. “I can’t say, William. I have my suspicions, of course, but I’m under instructions not to open the second part of my orders until we’re at sea.”

Nicholas pricked his ears up at this. He clearly recalled his discussion of several weeks earlier at the London dockyards with the Endeavour’s recruiting officer, Mister Wilkie. The Devonshire man had seemed certain that the Lords of the Admiralty wanted Cook to look for Terra Australis Incognita, the Great Southern Continent. Nicholas was about to mention this to the captain, but held his tongue. He had no wish to land Wilkie in trouble.

I’ll find out soon enough, he thought. After all, we depart tomorrow.

He wasn’t to know Wilkie had no firm information on the bark’s ultimate destination. He’d simply made an educated guess, which would ultimately prove to be prophetic.

Thinking about the pending departure, Nicholas hoped the fine weather of late would continue. Distant lightning and dark clouds to the south indicated a storm was brewing.

***

CHAPTER 5

Hawaiki, Spring, 1301 AD

The morning after the big feast in Hotu’s village, Ronui led Tautira toward the narrow gap in the reef that separated them from the open sea. Around eighty people – passengers and crew – occupied almost every bit of available space on the decks of each canoe.

First places aboard the craft had…

NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues next week…

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‘MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND’ analyzes why world leaders lust after the coldest, iciest, most remote hotspot on Planet Earth!

Posted: July 16, 2026 in Mysterious Greenland, Underground Knowledge
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The new-release book MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization takes readers on a journey into the world’s most enigmatic island at the very moment it features on the global stage.

In this, Book 10 in The Underground Knowledge Series, authors James & Lance Morcan explore Greenland as a laboratory of the Elites, an Arctic battleground, and a potential launchpad for what some researchers call a Breakaway Civilization — an advanced, clandestine offshoot of humanity operating beyond public oversight.

This new release book is available now via Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/MYSTERIOUS-GREENLAND-Frontier-Breakaway-Civilization-ebook/dp/B0H8KTRBNF/

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New release book launch… ‘MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization’

Posted: July 15, 2026 in Mysterious Greenland
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Why has the world suddenly become obsessed with Greenland? That’s the key question addressed by bestselling authors James & Lance Morcan in their new release book Mysterious Greenland.

The Morcans also speculate on why the superpowers, billionaires, intelligence agencies, and military strategists are all converging on the planet’s largest island — a place long dismissed as a frozen afterthought?

The global spotlight intensified when President Donald Trump made headlines by expressing interest in purchasing Greenland — a moment that signaled to many that something far more strategic and secretive was unfolding.

In Mysterious Greenland, the authors peel back the layers of history, geopolitics, secrecy, and myth to reveal why this icy frontier has become one of the most coveted and contested regions on Earth. Blending documented events with underreported facts and provocative analysis, the Morcans explore Greenland as a laboratory of the Elites, an Arctic battleground, and a potential launchpad for what some researchers call a Breakaway Civilization — an advanced, clandestine offshoot of humanity operating beyond public oversight.

From Cold War-era projects such as Operation Blue Jay, Thulegate, and Project Iceworm to modern battles over rare earth minerals, Arctic shipping lanes, and the ambitions of global powers, this book uncovers the hidden forces shaping Greenland’s past, present, and future. Along the way, it investigates Inuit mysteries, disappearing settlements, Ancient Civilization theories, extraterrestrial claims, WW2 enigmas and the growing belief that Greenland may hold secrets capable of reshaping our understanding of human history.

Part geopolitical exposé, part investigative deep dive, and part exploration of the unknown, Mysterious Greenland is a gripping addition to the Morcan’s Underground Knowledge Series — a journey into the world’s most enigmatic island at the very moment it steps onto the global stage.

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Published by Sterling Gate Books, MYSTERIOUS GREENLAND: Frontier of the Breakaway Civilization is available now via Amazon as an audiobook and Kindle ebook via the links below. The print versions will be available soon.

Kindle ebook: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H8KTRBNF

Audible audiobook: https://www.audible.com/pd/MYSTERIOUS-GREENLAND-Audiobook/B0H8M8G3ZP

Amazon AUSTRALIA Kindle ebook: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0H8KTRBNF

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Weekly serialization of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues. Here’s Chapter 3…

Posted: July 9, 2026 in New Zealand: A Novel
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CHAPTER 3

London, June 1, 1768

Nicholas Young had rarely visited the seaside before and had never been aboard a ship or boat of any kind. Born the youngest in a family of five children, he’d seldom been beyond the borders of his home county of Derbyshire, in central England.

The son of Nicholas Young Senior, a medical practitioner in the spa town of Buxton, the lad was packed off to London as soon as he turned seventeen. He was following a long-standing tradition in the Young family: as soon as the boys were old enough they were sent to London to further their education. Like his two brothers before him, he was destined to follow his father into the medical profession. Marc and John Young were already junior partners in their father’s thriving practice.

Full of the enthusiasm of youth, Nicholas had arrived in London in the spring of 1768. He’d thrown himself into his studies, ever keen to live up to his father’s high expectations. However, he soon found an innocent boyhood spent in rural England had not prepared him for London’s many distractions. It wasn’t just the night life or the seemingly endless supply of beautiful city girls that distracted him. It was also the London dockyards. He was drawn to them like a magnet.

Nicholas spent hours exploring the waterfront and admiring the myriad of craft and their ensigns of different nations coming and going. He loved the docks with their ships of every shape and size, the constant activity that surrounded them, the peculiar sights, sounds and smells, the different languages to be heard and the colourful, hardworking, hard-drinking, foul-mouthed Jack Tars and other seafaring characters who came and went as frequently as the tides. Nicholas enjoyed listening to the seamen as they swapped yarns over an ale or two in the many waterside bars and inns. His impressionable young mind was soon filled with stories of exotic, faraway places.

When he wasn’t exploring the dockyards, he would wear down the soles of his shoes walking along the banks of the River Thames from where he could watch the magnificent sailing ships as they set out on their mighty ocean voyages.

Tall for his age, the good-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed lad had an eye for the working girls who frequented the docks, and he inevitably attracted their attention. He was still inexperienced in matters of the opposite sex, but he vowed he’d do something about that in the next little while.

Early in his first summer in London he struck up a conversation with a Mister Wilkie, the recruiting officer for a vessel called the Endeavour. Wilkie, a short, bald, engaging character with a twinkle in his eye, told him he was charged with the recruitment of crew members for a voyage of discovery.

Nicholas was intrigued – even more so when he learned where His Majesty’s bark, the Endeavour, was going.

“She sets sail soon for Tahiti and on to the bottom of the world,” Wilkie confided. He spoke in that distinctive rural drawl, which identified him as a native of Devon. When pressed for more information by the eager boy, Wilkie said, “The Lords of the Admiralty want us to look for Terra Australis Incognita.”

Nicholas’ brow creased uncomprehendingly.

“The Great Southern Continent,” the recruiting officer explained, warming to his subject.

“You mean New Holland?” Nicholas asked, referring to the newly-discovered continent that would one day be referred to as Australia. He’d overheard chatter about New Holland amongst Jack Tars in the taverns.

“Nay, lad. Our Admiralty and the learned gentlemen of the Royal Society have long held the belief there is a vast tract of land, a veritable continent, far to the east of New Holland and the known world. They want it found, explored and claimed for Mother England.”

These words fired Nicholas’s fervent imagination more than any others he’d heard in his seventeen short years. He was immediately caught up in the adventure of it all and hurled a fair torrent of questions at the amused Wilkie.

The man held both hands up and stepped back a pace, chuckling. “One question at a time, lad!” he implored.

Nicholas grinned sheepishly and apologised. “What if the Endeavour’s crew doesn’t find this…great southern continent?”

Wilkie scratched his bald head and suddenly looked serious. “To be honest, I haven’t even considered that. Our captain is not one given to failure. He will surely be one of the greatest seafarers the world has ever seen if the scuttlebutt around him is accurate. If Terra Australis Incognita is there, James Cook will find it.”

This was the first time Nicholas had heard Cook’s name. He was to learn a lot more about the man in the months ahead.

Wilkie looked shrewdly at his young companion. “Would ye like to see the Endeavour?”

Nicholas jumped at the opportunity. “Where is she?”

“She’s moored nearby at the Deptford Dockyards. Follow me.”

Without further ado, the pair crossed the Thames courtesy of one of the watermen who made their living rowing paying customers across the river. On the far bank, they made their way on foot to Deptford. As at the dockyards they’d just left, Deptford was a bustle of activity with ships of every description either at anchor or coming and going. As they walked, Nicholas told Wilkie of his studies and his father’s ambition to see his youngest son follow him into the medical profession. With only a grunt here and there, Wilkie listened and silently digested what he was hearing. They came to an abrupt halt at the wharf’s edge and Nicholas surveyed the ships lined up before them. The older man pointed to an inconspicuous, solid, little vessel berthed at the far end of the wharf.

“That’s the Endeavour?” Nicholas was momentarily disappointed. He’d expected a more impressive craft would carry England’s ensign to the end of the world. More like one of the big Royal Navy ships of war he’d seen on the Thames. Even to his untrained eye, he could see she was less than a hundred feet long. However, the shiny brass nameplate on the bark’s side confirmed she was indeed the Endeavour.

“Don’t be fooled by her looks, lad,” Wilkie warned. He explained the little cat-built bark with her square stern, shallow draught and rounded sides would be equally at home rounding Cape Horn or facing tropical monsoons.

Nicholas listened intently as the older man proudly listed the many attributes which made the Whitby-constructed Endeavour, in his not-so-humble opinion, the most suitable vessel afloat for the arduous task ahead. He gained a new appreciation of the bark and was dying to board her. As if reading his mind, Wilkie bade him follow and stepped onto the vessel’s gangplank.

Nicholas tried to take everything in as his companion gave him the complete guided tour, introducing him to officers and crew as they made their way around the deck. There was scarcely room for the pair as crewmembers and watersiders intermingled, loading stores and provisioning the Endeavour for the journey ahead. “Is Captain Cook on board?”

“Nay, lad,” Wilkie replied, explaining the captain was spending his final weeks in London reviewing plans and charts with the Lords of the Admiralty. “God willing, he’ll also get some time with his family.”

Nicholas was amazed to learn the Endeavour could be away as long as two or even three years. That was if she didn’t sink or founder on some gnarly reef or barren shore.

After another moment’s silence, a realisation hit him like a bolt of lightning. He realised he had to be aboard this voyage of discovery. His companion recognised the moment, too.

Wilkie looked at Nicholas intently, aware that the lad could solve one of his crew recruitment problems. With less than two weeks to go before sailing, he needed at least twenty more crewmembers, including a junior assistant for the bark’s surgeon. It was no easy task trying to convince good men to give up the comforts of home for what could easily turn out to be a one-way trip.  The recruitment of a surgeon’s boy was crucial and would be one less appointment for the over-worked Wilkie to worry about. Coming from a medical background, Nicholas’s intelligence, youthful energy and undoubted enthusiasm for adventure made him an obvious candidate.

At length, Wilkie asked, “How would ye like to join the ship’s company, lad?”

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CHAPTER 4

London, 1768

The two weeks before sailing were a blur to Nicholas. After signing the necessary recruitment papers and being formally introduced to all the officers and crew, including his master the gruff but likeable surgeon William Monkhouse, the new recruit…

NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues next week…

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‘Fiji: A Novel’ captures the history, violence and lust of 19th Century Fiji

Posted: July 7, 2026 in Fiji: A Novel
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Fiji was called ‘The Cannibal Isles’ for good reason, and the Methodist missionaries who insisted “The Fijian is your best friend and your worst enemy” knew what they were talking about. In Fiji: A Novel, authors Lance & James Morcan capture all the history and the violence, the lust, the religious bigotry, the beauty and the clash of cultures that existed in 19th Century Fiji.

In the 1800’s, Fiji was a melting pot of cannibals, warring native tribes, sailors, traders, prostitutes, escaped convicts and all manner of foreign undesirables. It’s in this hostile environment this historical adventure-romance is set.

 Here’s what book critics say about this novel:

 “A gripping and graphic story of historic Fiji.” –Great Historicals

 “I give it 5 stars because that’s the maximum allowed.” –Random Writings Book Reviews, Suva

 “An intense story that will have you turning the pages long into the night.” –Author Susan Heim

 “A perfect combination of romance and action.” –The Kindle Book Review

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Fiji: A Novel is available as an audiobook courtesy of Amazon’s Audible initiative. (Listening length 9hrs 26mins). The paperback is available from Harvard Book Store, Barnes & Noble, Waterstones UK & Europe bookstores, Amazon and via public libraries.

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Weekly serialization of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues. Here’s Chapter 2…

Posted: July 3, 2026 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Spanning five centuries, New Zealand: A Novel is a sweeping tale of discovery, destiny, and forbidden love in which the old and new worlds collide. While this novel may not always convey exactly what happened during the discovery and settlement of New Zealand, first by Pacific Islanders and later by Europeans, I believe it captures the spirit of those sometimes romantic, always fascinating and often bloody times. –Lance Morcan (Author)

CHAPTER 2

Hawaiki, Winter, 1301 AD  

Hotu’s twin-hulled canoe was the biggest of all the double voyaging canoes ever seen in Hawaiki – bigger even than the giant catamarans favoured by their enemies. The rangatira knew he needed a special canoe if he was to lead an expedition into unknown waters in search of Kupe’s land. So he built the Ronui, his name for the huge craft that would carry eighty hand-picked villagers to a new life across the sea. Named after one of the mountain peaks that towered above his village, Ronui made an impressive sight at her lagoon anchorage.

Building such a canoe had been no easy task given the limitations of tools he and his team of builders had at their disposal. Support for the venture trickled in slowly as Hawaikans remained divided over its merits. As the monster vessel took shape, word quickly spread around Nuku Hiva and neighbouring islands, and the trickle of volunteers increased.

The project gathered pace when Hotu’s friend Ra and several other rangatiras eventually gave their support and supplied much-needed manpower. Enthusiasm for the project was contagious and finally the elders and priests gave it their unanimous blessing. Their zeal soon spread and the entire island took on a carnival atmosphere. Before long, there were a number of giant canoes under construction at various villages. Ra’s village was among those, and Ra named his canoe Tautira after the other mountain peak that dominated the landscape in their corner of the island. 

The peace and quiet of usually-lazy days was shattered by the sounds of axes felling trees that had stood tall for generations. The sounds of hard labour continued from dawn till dusk. It became a race to see which village would finish building their canoe first.

Two crop-planting seasons had passed since the Dogfaces last attacked.

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The great migration to Kupe’s land took on some urgency as winter seamlessly slid into spring. Hotu and captains of the fleet’s other voyaging canoes – nine in all – wanted to begin their journey before the start of the mid-summer cyclone season. Already the long-tailed cuckoos had begun their southern migration, and every day the sun seemed hotter and higher in the sky.

It was fast becoming a race against time. The weather during sea voyages at this time of the year was usually the sailors’ friend. Much later and it could be their mortal enemy. Islanders were very aware of the dangers. Oftentimes canoes did not return from a voyage, and every family had lost loved-ones to the angry ocean gods at some time.

Hotu’s buoyant mood was rapidly giving way to a feeling of unease. His son, Kafoa, ever-aware of his moods, asked, “What is wrong, papa?”

Father and son sat down in the shade and looked hard at each other as they usually did when there were important things to say. Hotu explained the need to leave the island before the onset of the cyclone season. Kafoa understood. He’d seen their village levelled twice already by the terrifying winds that brought with them death and destruction.

One question led to another. “Papa, what if you are wrong about the cuckoos? Could we get lost at sea?”

“That is always a risk, son,” the rangatira replied honestly. “But it is not likely.” Hotu advised Kafoa of all the other signs provided by nature for the benefit of seafarers. He told of the stars that gave navigators a path to follow, the ocean currents that sped the great canoes across the water as fast as schools of flying fish, the ocean swells that changed shape and the birds that appeared as land was neared – and about the reflection of land in the clouds, which could be seen long before the land itself was sighted. “Our people have learned to read these and other signs over many years of exploration.”

The explanation satisfied Kafoa and he ran off to play, leaving his father deep in thought.

Hotu’s responsibilities weighed heavily upon him. On the one hand, he knew he was doing the right thing leading his people to the sanctuary of a new land. On the other hand, he feared for their safety if they couldn’t leave before the cyclone season struck. And strike it would. It came every year without fail.

There was something else, too. As rangatira, he was responsible for all his people, not only those sailing with him. He was keenly aware that most of the villagers would be left behind. He vowed then and there he’d return for them once he had found Kupe’s land. Deep down, he knew that would be in the hands of the gods. The prevailing winds would speed the fleet to the southern land, but those same winds would put up an almost insurmountable barrier against any return trip. Somehow, Kupe had overcome this barrier, but Hotu wasn’t sure he could match his ancestor’s seamanship. Something deep inside him told him this would in all probability be a one-way journey.

The Ronui and Tautira were within days of completion. Hotu and Ra were keen to set sail. So it was agreed, after sometimes heated discussion, the fleet would be split. Ronui and Tautira would depart as soon as they could be provisioned. The other seven canoes – Tainui, Te Arawa, Mātaatua, Kurahaupō, Tokomaru, Aotea and Tākitimu – would follow a week or two later and hopefully before the onset of the cyclone season. History would later refer to those seven canoes as The Great Fleet.

Ra’s canoe, an exact replica of Hotu’s, had been launched several days earlier and was now moored in the lagoon close to the village. Built in the style favoured by blue water seafarers of the day, each craft was actually two canoes joined by planked decking, which supported several thatched shelters. Wide planks had been lashed together with V-shaped inserted ribs. These were caulked with breadfruit sap. The distinctive triangular sails, made of pandanus mat, were of the fore and aft variety while the rigging was made from coconut fibre and the keel carved from a solid log.

The carrying capacity of these eighty foot-long sea monsters was impressive. Food and stores on board could last up to three months. The food would be cooked in ceramic cooking pots lashed to the deck; fresh water would be carried in gourds and in hollow bamboo lengths; and rainwater would be collected in the sails themselves. In the event of water shortages, the voyagers would drain the blood of any fish they caught into empty coconut husks and then drink it to help quench their thirst.

Capable of speeds of eight knots in good conditions, such voyaging craft could average up to one hundred and fifty nautical miles a day, or thousands of miles in a month, and could survive all but the fiercest storms. That was the hope at least.

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Word of the impending departure of Ronui and Tautira quickly spread around Nuku Hiva and the neighbouring islands. Within two days thousands of Hawaikans had descended on Hotu’s village to bid farewell to the voyagers. They arrived laden down with gifts ranging from coconuts, taro, breadfruit and preserved fish to blankets, grass mats, live pigs and dogs. Everything that could be accommodated was loaded onto the craft.

Hotu and Ra personally supervised the provisioning of their respective vessels. The former approved the half-dozen or so island dogs donated to the crew of Ronui. The dogs would prove useful hunters in the new land, but he drew the line at two pigs. He was confident they’d find many more pigs for the cooking fire when they reached their destination. Until then he was not prepared to put up with any more than two of the smelly, snorting beasts. Ra took a similar stance and approved the loading of one pig only. They would both regret their decisions later.

The venture was primarily an exercise in logistics. This problem was simple compared with choosing who could go. It was easy at first: only Hotu and a few adventurous followers had wanted to take the risk. As time passed and support for the venture grew, there were many more volunteers than there were places available. In most cases, the passengers and crewmembers were young, fit and healthy; it was accepted the rigours of lengthy ocean voyages were too much for the elderly or unfit to survive.

In all, there were eighty places allocated on each vessel. A few babies still being nursed by their mothers weren’t counted. The nursing mothers and their infants would have first use of the thatched shelters on board.

The day before sailing, with provisioning almost completed, the Hawaikans enjoyed what surely must have been the biggest feast in the island nation’s history. Kava, the traditional drink of the islands, flowed as hundreds of pigs were roasted over makeshift spits. As was the custom, giant sea turtles were barbecued alive until they ceased writhing and their succulent white flesh peeled off them.

Those villagers soon to depart weren’t to know this would be their last decent meal for more than six weeks – the time it would take to sail the sixteen hundred miles from Hawaiki to Kupe’s land.

At the height of the celebrations, Ra noticed Hotu sitting by himself at the entrance to the latter’s bure overlooking the lagoon, and so went to join him.

“It is good to see you, my brother,” Hotu said by way of customary greeting when he noticed his friend approach.

“It is good to see you also, my brother,” Ra responded in kind.

Hotu motioned to Ra to sit next to him then turned to a slave boy nearby and ordered him to prepare a bowl of kava. The two rangatiras sat in companionable silence. A short while later the slave boy reappeared holding a bowl, which contained a liquid that might resemble ditchwater to a casual observer. His hand was shaking. He was very aware that more than one slave had been put to death for serving ill-prepared kava to a rangatira. Hotu nodded to the boy who handed the bowl to him. He drank greedily from it before sharing its contents with Ra.

The potent island drink soon worked its magic. First came the tingling in the lips and then the warm glow that starts in the stomach and spreads deliciously to the brain.

Hotu felt immensely satisfied – and not just because of the effects of the kava. The rangatira knew he was about to realise the dream of a lifetime. He closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the spirits of his ancestors.

From their vantage point, the rangatiras had a clear view of the reef beyond the lagoon and of the sparkling ocean beyond that. Hotu could feel the pull of the southern land again. He could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of emulating the great voyaging feats of Kupe.

The pair proceeded to drain the kava bowl, their speech becoming increasingly incoherent as they discussed what would surely be the journey of a lifetime. When the kava ran out, fermented coconut milk miraculously materialised, courtesy of the slave boy, with equally potent results.

On unsteady legs, the pair meandered down to join the other villagers who were now enjoying a feast to end feasts. It would include the sweet flesh of a teenage virgin girl soon to be sacrificed to the sea gods. After suffocation at the hands of two strapping junior priests, the naked girl – a volunteer from Hotu’s village – would be baked over a cooking fire, and morsels of her flesh would be distributed to the assembled tribal rangatiras and elders in a ceremony almost as old as Hawaiki itself.

This age-old practice was followed throughout many of the occupied islands of the South Pacific. It was necessary to appease the gods.

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CHAPTER 3

London, June 1, 1768

Nicholas Young had rarely visited the seaside before and had never been aboard a ship or boat of any kind. Born the youngest in a family of five children, he’d seldom been beyond the borders of his home county of Derbyshire, in…

NOVEL CONTINUES NEXT WEEK…

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