Posts Tagged ‘The Endeavour’

Weekly serialisation of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure ‘New Zealand: A Novel’ continues with a momentous observation. Here’s Chapter 19…

Posted: November 13, 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 19

Matavai Bay, Tahiti, June 3, 1769

Nicholas’s sojourn in paradise ended as abruptly as it began. Early on the morning of the transit of Venus, Captain Cook’s servant Will Howson arrived at the village to pass on the captain’s orders: the surgeon’s assistant was to make haste to the observatory. More sobering was the news they’d be sailing the next day.

Nicholas had almost forgotten the reason he and his crewmates were here. The two wahines in his life had kept him so busy of late that the scheduled observation of the transit had all but escaped his mind. He looked up at the sky and was relieved to see not a cloud in sight.

The captain will be pleased.

“I’ll accompany ye to the fort,” Will said.

Nicholas shook his head. “No, you go ahead. I have some matters to attend to first.”

“See ye there.”

As Will set off toward the beach, Nicholas immediately sought out Tara and her queen to bid them farewell. He found Tara outside the bure she shared with other servant girls, and, using a simple form of sign language they’d developed, he conveyed to her that he was soon to depart. Kissing her one last time, he murmured, “I will never forget you, my beautiful island girl.”

Tara tried to hide her disappointment behind a smile, but Nicholas wasn’t fooled. For one moment he considered hiding on the island and spending the remainder of his days with her and her queen, but the moment passed as he thought of the adventures and new horizons that lay ahead.

Nicholas then went in search of Queen Obadia, but she was nowhere to be found. Disappointed, he headed for Fort Venus just as the longboat arrived from the Endeavour with officers on board. Tupaia was among them, but there was no sign of Cook. He imagined the captain was already in the observatory preparing for the day’s event.

Tupaia spotted Nicholas in the distance and waited for him to join him. The Tahitian smiled as soon as his young friend was within earshot. “Hello, Nicholas.”

“Good morning, Tupaia.” Nicholas noticed he seemed even more cheerful than usual. “What are you so happy about?”

The Tahitian raised his hands to the sky. “I happy captain has…ah…beautiful day to view heavens…above”

Nicholas suspected his friend wasn’t being entirely truthful, but he let it go.

Tupaia was hiding something. Cook had just the previous evening granted his request to join the Endeavour as his official interpreter for the remainder of the voyage. He’d ordered the new recruit not to mention it to anyone until he had broken the news to his officers.

Entering the fort, Tupaia glanced at his young companion. “Did you enter paradise, my friend?” he asked slyly.

Nicholas smiled, but said nothing.

The Tahitian had no difficulty translating that answer.

#

Tupaia wasn’t the only one in a good mood that morning. After a sleepless night, an anxious Cook had risen well before dawn to greet the new day. After days of indifferent weather, no-one had been more delighted than him to see the sun rise in a cloudless sky.

The captain had rejoiced, announcing to all aboard ship there would be an extra rum ration dispensed.

The start of the transit was now only an hour away, and Nicholas noticed Cook was making final adjustments to one of the large telescopes he and astronomer Charles Green would be using. Although it was still only eight o’clock, the observatory was buzzing with activity. An air of expectancy was building.

Nicholas felt himself caught up in the excitement even if he didn’t fully understand the significance of the event. The astronomical clock, with its gridiron pendulum, occupied pride of place in the centre of the tent. A few paces opposite stood the astronomical quadrant and journeyman clock. The telescopes themselves were the reflecting type, each with a focus of two feet, and Nicholas couldn’t help being impressed by their size.

Cook spent the next hour pacing while studying the sky. He was becoming noticeably anxious even though there was nary a single cloud in sight.

As the time approached, all chatter ceased and the fort became deathly quiet. The only sounds were the squawks of gulls overhead and the laughter of children playing further along the beach.

When the transit began, Nicholas watched intrigued as Cook and Green manned the telescopes.

“Damnation!” Cook cursed, startling the onlookers. Still peering through his scope, he said, “There’s cloud up there.” He looked around at Green who nodded, indicating he concurred.

Glancing up at the clear blue sky, Nicholas wondered what the captain was talking about. The expressions on his fellow crewmates’ faces indicated they were similarly bemused.

“Venus has its own atmosphere,” Cook explained as if he’d read the minds of his men. Still peering into the scope, he said, “The planet’s rim is obscured.”

Nicholas now understood that conditions on the surface of Venus were not as clear as they were in Matavai Bay. He marvelled that such an observation could be made of a planet so far away. Exactly how far, he didn’t know.

More than a few thousand miles if I had to bet.

For the next twenty-five minutes, the men watched the captain and the assistant astronomer go about their work. As each minute passed, discussions between the pair signalled that weather conditions on the planet’s surface were steadily improving.

Nicholas could see that both men were becoming increasingly excited. Glancing at the pendulum clock that sat on a table between the two scopes, he saw it was still not quite nine-thirty.

“That’s it!” Cook said excitedly. Still peering into his scope, he added, “That’s an accurate fix, Mister Green.”

“Aye, Captain,” Green agreed. “It’s a fix.”

A triumphant Cook glanced at the clock and then wrote an entry in an open diary. Nicholas thought the captain had never seemed more alive or animated than he was at that moment.

Total immersion followed nineteen minutes later, and Cook invited the milling onlookers to take turns to look through one of the telescopes.

Nicholas was thrilled to see for himself the small black dot of Venus as it moved across the face of the sun. As soon as his turn finished, he queued for another look at the astronomical phenomenon. While he waited, Cook’s earlier words came back to him, reminding him of the importance of what he was witnessing.

It has become a matter of international prestige, lad. Calculating the distances between Earth and the sun and between Earth and Venus are the first requirements for accurately mapping the solar system. Navigation depends on such knowledge.

#

Several hours later, a relieved Cook proudly announced that despite the hazy atmosphere around the planet, the observation was a success. The captain might not have been so confident if he’d known the learned gents of the Royal Society would be disappointed, complaining that data and drawings of the transit were inconsistent. Most of the blame for this would be apportioned to Green, although it would be acknowledged that the hazy conditions made it difficult to accurately record times and that observers at other locations around the world experienced similar problems.

Now that the first part of the Admiralty’s orders had been executed, the captain was keen to embark on the next stage of the voyage. He immediately issued orders to disassemble the observatory and the fort, and to transfer everything back to the bark. At the same time, he announced that Tupaia would remain on board as interpreter and navigator.

News of Tupaia’s promotion was well received by most for they’d come to like him. However, some diehard veterans privately questioned the wisdom of recruiting a Tahitian for the remainder of the voyage, one of them even suggesting, “The savage best watch out or we’ll use him as shark bait.”

Cook’s good mood soured when he discovered his pocket telescope, which he usually carried around on his person, had been stolen. Too small to be used to observe the transit, he’d removed it from his belt and left it on a chair just outside the fort. His men reported seeing a Tahitian youth uplift it. Attempts to prevent the thief’s escape had failed.

For Cook, this was the last straw. He had an intense dislike of thieving and it was a constant source of irritation to him that the peoples of Tahiti, and other Pacific islands, too, had no qualms about taking what wasn’t theirs to take. He was ready to make good on his promise to make an example of the next thief he caught.

The captain dispatched five marines to catch the culprit. This they did in surprisingly short order. A concerned Hercules had assisted them. The big rangatira was keen to stay on good terms with the visitors for he’d benefitted from trading with them – and he’d witnessed the power of their muskets.

The thief, who was scarcely older than Nicholas, was delivered by canoe to the Endeavour where he was paraded on deck in front of the crew. Cook insisted that every crewmember on board be present to witness the offender’s punishment. Hercules and his entourage were also in attendance courtesy of an invitation from the captain.

Nicholas noted the young thief was smiling, seemingly unaware he’d transgressed. Like all the Islanders, he held to the view what’s yours is mine and mine is yours. It had always been that way.

Using Tupaia as interpreter, Cook advised the assembled Tahitians neither he nor the master of any other English vessel in their waters would countenance thieving. After a barely discernible nod from the captain, Jamie Flogger Andrews stepped forward from the ranks. Flogger was so-named because he carried out the floggings when Cook decreed a crewman should be lashed. The hard-nosed, hard-drinking Scotsman made no secret of the fact he enjoyed his work. He was known as a man not to cross.

Cook’s punishment was quick, but it forever changed the way Nicholas and the others would view the captain.

Andrews tied the still-smiling offender’s hands behind his back, stepped behind him and then, with two practised flicks of a sharp razor, cut off both his ears. Blood spurted from the wounds on either side of the victim’s head, splattering the deck. The youth stared in disbelief at his bloodied ears, now both lying at his feet, before letting out a scream of agony.

“Get him off the ship!” Cook shouted above the victim’s wailing. “And let that be a lesson to these savages!” Turning to his bosun, he said, “Send the natives on their way and ready the vessel for tomorrow’s departure, Mister Molyneaux.”

“Aye, Captain,” the bosun said, hurrying to carry out his orders.

The captain strode off to his cabin, satisfied he’d dispensed a valuable lesson to the Tahitians – and to his men.

As Molyneaux ushered Hercules and the other Tahitians to the rope ladders leading down to their waiting canoe, Nicholas felt sick. He had just seen a side of Cook he’d never seen before. Glancing around, he noted the departing Tahitians seemed stunned. It was evident they weren’t entirely sure what grave sin the youth had committed to warrant such punishment.

#

In his cabin, Cook had already forgotten about the incident topside. His mind was on his next logbook entry. It would be his most important entry to date, and possibly the most important one for the entire voyage. He’d been crafting it in his mind ever since returning to the Endeavour, and he couldn’t wait to commit it to paper.

The familiar sounds of crewmen preparing the Endeavour for tomorrow’s departure and the next stage of her voyage carried to him as he sat down at his desk. Above deck the faint shouts of riggers could be heard as they inspected the bark’s masts and sails; below deck the sound of full water barrels could also be heard as they were rolled into the storeroom and stacked alongside crates of salted beef, smoked fish, fresh fruit and vegetables, and other victuals.

Cook inked his quill and began writing:

June 3rd, 1769: The day proved as favourable to our purpose as we could wish. Not a cloud was to be seen and the air was perfectly clear so that we had every advantage we could desire in observing the whole of the passage of the planet Venus over the Sun’s disk: we distinctly saw an atmosphere or dusky shade round the body of the planet, which very much disturbed the times of the contacts, particularly the two internal ones. 

The captain paused in his deliberations to trim his quill with a pair of scissors. Before he resumed writing he wondered how the report would be received by his masters in London.

CHAPTER 20

Matavai Bay, Tahiti, June 4, 1769

The send-off afforded the Endeavour by the villagers at first light the following day was decidedly subdued. Word had spread of the harsh punishment of one of their own the previous afternoon, and that had cast a pall over the bark’s final hours in Matavai Bay.

A dozen canoes and their occupants accompanied the Endeavour as far as…

>>> NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues next week.

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Weekly serialisation of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure ‘New Zealand: A Novel’ continues with Maori assaulting coastal pa. Here’s Chapter 18…

Posted: November 6, 2026 in New Zealand: A Novel
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“I was impressed with how much painstaking research by the author has gone into this book. Not only history, but science and nature too, encompassing events like the Transit of Venus and the extinction of the moa. I highly recommend this book. An epic read.” -Amazon Reviews

CHAPTER 18

Tokomaru Bay, Early 1500s

The Te Arawa raiders had set out on foot at first light from Tokomaru Bay. Their number included six slaves. Forty warriors remained behind to guard the remaining slaves, wakas and other plunder they’d acquired.

The new day brought with it strong winds, black clouds and the threat of a violent storm on Aotearoa’s east coast, and the heavy rain that seemed certain to arrive that morning would be the first rain the region had received in some time.

Apera had debated whether to abandon his plan to attack the enemy’s pa atop the headland on foot. The rangatira had decided to heed the advice of others who insisted it was impregnable from the sea. He was now convinced his best bet was to launch a surprise night-time attack on foot. Whether it would actually come as a surprise to the Ngati Porou remained to be seen. He didn’t doubt they would have their own scouts on the lookout for enemies in their territory – especially now that the presence of his raiding party was known.

Guided by a male slave who bore the marks of a savage beating he’d suffered, the warriors followed a partly overgrown, seldom-used track that would lead them to the coast. They had at least three full days’ trekking ahead of them as it was a roundabout route that would take them some distance inland. The rugged terrain was bush-covered and dissected by rivers and deep, rocky gorges. Even with the help of slaves it was hard going, laden down as the raiders were by their weapons and supplies.

Apera was near the front of the column. His latest conquest, Emere, followed close behind. To the bemusement of the other warriors, the recently widowed wahine seemed a willing accomplice who dutifully followed the man responsible for the deaths of her husband and children. They could see she was now as much under Apera’s spell as he was under hers.

Emere was a fatalist and a realist. Though the man who now possessed her had taken her nearest and dearest from her, and had shattered the peaceful life she’d lived these past twenty-three years, he now controlled her destiny. That was her new reality, and she accepted it. To resist, she knew, would be futile, and so, with some difficulty and more than a little guilt, she put her past behind her and mentally prepared herself for a new life with this new man. Her future was easier to accept than it might have been because she sensed that in Apera she had a man, a rangatira, who was all-powerful and who would look after her. It didn’t hurt either that she was physically attracted to him like she had been to no other man.

#

The rain that had been threatening arrived early the following day, reducing the trail the raiders followed to a muddy quagmire and slowing their progress considerably. The slaves accompanying them had to work especially hard, lugging many of the supplies and extra weapons. All large men, they were also a useful food source for raiders who didn’t have time to hunt or gather food whilst trekking cross-country. This accounted for the fact that their number had been reduced to four overnight: two of them had been killed, cooked and eaten the previous evening. The surviving slaves, who remained tethered together by a strong cord that encircled the neck of each, were resigned to their fate and to the fact they were unlikely to see Tokomaru Bay again.

Throughout the day, scouts regularly reported back to Apera, advising him on the best route they should take and whether the way ahead was clear. One advised that the Ngati Porou had completely abandoned their inland pa and relocated to their stronghold on the coastal headland. That told Apera that the Te Arawa scout their enemies had captured earlier had revealed what his fellow raiders were planning.

#

The raiders reached the coast four days after departing Tokomaru Bay. Their trek had taken a day longer than expected as progress had been slowed by driving rain, and by mud slides necessitating several course corrections.

Dusk was descending as Apera and three of his warriors observed the Ngati Porou’s coastal pa from a bush clearing on a nearby hilltop. The rangatira had left his main strike force a mile or so inland to lessen the chance they’d be seen by enemy scouts or hunters. He wanted to maintain some degree of surprise in the attack he was planning. 

Studying the pa from just two hundred yards distant, it was immediately obvious that the Ngati Porou were expecting an attack. Sentries manned the pa’s ramparts and lookout towers, and a dozen armed warriors could be seen patrolling all approaches to the pa. Most of the latter carried torches, but the flames flickered precariously and in some cases didn’t fire at all in the howling wind. The earlier torrential rain had stopped, but the gale-force southerly annoyingly persisted.

Apera could see the information he’d received was correct: the pa was virtually impregnable from the sea. “A frontal attack is the only way,” he murmured.

The warrior closest to him, a scarred veteran of innumerable clashes, grunted his agreement. “Ae, it is the only way,” he concurred.

Apera could tell a frontal attack would be no easy undertaking either. The rangatira was impressed by the pa’s formidable fortifications, and, if his informants were correct, the enemy’s fighting force equalled or perhaps exceeded his in size. He was thankful for the heavy cloud cover. The extra darkness it afforded would help conceal his warriors from the enemy despite the sentries’ flickering torches. Even so, he thought it probable they’d be seen well before they reached the pa’s outer fortifications because all the approaches had been cleared of boulders, bush, shrubs and anything else that might conceal an enemy. “We attack tonight under cover of darkness,” he said. Having seen enough, he and his companions jogged back to join the others.

It was dark by the time they reached their encampment. They arrived to discover the other warriors had ambushed and captured a twenty-strong party of Ngati Porou hunters. All but two of the hunters had been killed, their bodies left in a heap nearby. Many of the deceased were young, some barely into their teens.

Apera saw at a glance the surviving hunters, who both appeared to be in their mid-twenties, were tethered together alongside a roaring fire. In the light of the flames, they appeared downcast and fearful. Both displayed injuries as a result of wounds they’d received. They were being interrogated by Kaihautu who stood over them, firing questions at them and striking them if they were slow to respond.

“Who are these dogs?” the rangatira asked his brother.

“They are Ngati Porou hunters,” Kaihautu said, kicking the nearest captive whose answer to his latest question had displeased him. “They were returning to their pa with their kills.” He pointed to a pile of carcasses, which had been lined up in rows nearby ready for cooking. They included freshwater crayfish and eels, native ducks, bush pigeons and a variety of other birds.

“Why did you spare these two?” Apera asked, looking at the captives.

“Because they were more talkative than the others…and they revealed some interesting truths.”

“Such as?”

“They told us the headland their pa sits on has no lake or river or other source of fresh water.”

Apera realised this meant his strike force could possibly besiege the pa until the defenders surrendered or died of thirst. “I am sure they would have dug ponds on the headland and those ponds will be full after the recent heavy rain.”

Frowning, Kaihautu kicked the nearest captive who appeared to be the more frightened of the two. “Is he correct? Are there ponds on the headland?”

The captive nodded furiously. “Ae, it is as he says. There are four deep ponds and they will be full by now.”

“How long could your people last if there is no more rain?” Apera asked.

“Maybe…ten days.”

“Only ten days?” a disbelieving Kaihautu asked, shaping up to kick the captive again.

“There are eight hundred of us at the pa and the ponds drain quickly!” the captive hurriedly explained, cowering from his interrogator’s raised foot. 

“What about food?” Apera asked, aware that his enemies’ water supplies wouldn’t be a factor if the rain continued.

“There is enough food for maybe seven days.”

It was the other captive who spoke. He seemed more composed than his companion even though he’d received the worse beating of the two. Mumbling through swollen, bleeding lips, he sullenly added, “Maybe enough for six days now that you have our latest kills.” He glanced at the fire where the birds and other creatures he and his fellow hunters had killed were ready to be roasted.

Thinking aloud, Apera said, “So, even if it rains every day and our enemies are able to quench their thirst, we could camp at the pa’s entrance and wait for them to starve.”

“We could,” Kaihautu agreed, “but he” – the warrior pointed at the more fearful of the two captives – “told us there is a lightly guarded entrance to their pa on the southern side of the ramparts.”

Realising his interrogator was pointing at him, the captive concerned nodded vigorously yet again, indicating there was indeed a lightly guarded entrance. “It cannot be seen from the approaches to the main entrance,” he said. “It is the gate we are…” Choosing his words more carefully, he said, “It is the gate we would have used when we returned.” He ignored the scathing glance his companion flashed his way.

The glance was noticed by Apera, which confirmed to his satisfaction the more talkative captive was telling the truth. Turning back to Kaihautu, he asked, “So you think that is our way in?”

“That is our way in, brother.”

Apera thought it a good idea except for one major complication. “They would see us before we were halfway to the outer stockade… even without moonlight. Their guards patrol all the approaches with flaming torches in hand.”

“I expected as much. That will be of no matter if the guards believe we are the returning hunters.” Smiling, Kaihautu glanced at the bodies of the slaughtered hunters.

Apera didn’t need it spelled out for him. He understood at once what his brother had in mind. The more he thought about it, the more he thought it could work. “Untie them,” he said, pointing at the two captives. “And select sixteen of our best warriors.”

Kaihautu hurried to carry out his brother’s orders.

A sudden change in wind direction caused the fire to crackle and spark, and it was then Apera noticed Emere. She sat alone, away from the other slaves, on the far side of the fire. Her beautiful face was illuminated by the flames, and Apera could see she was staring directly at him.

The flames quickly settled and her face was cast in shadow again, but in that brief moment the message Emere had conveyed was unmistakable: she wanted him.

Apera’s distraction was noticed by Kaihautu. “We must go now, brother,” he said.

“Give me one moment.” Apera strode off to satisfy his sudden lust for the wahine who so captivated him.

CHAPTER 19

Matavai Bay, Tahiti, June 3, 1769

Nicholas’s sojourn in paradise ended as abruptly as it began. Early on the morning of the transit of Venus, Captain Cook’s servant Will Howson arrived at the village to pass on the captain’s orders: the surgeon’s assistant was to make haste to the observatory. More sobering was the news they’d be sailing the next day…

>>> NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues next week.

**********************************************************************

Weekly serialisation of Lance Morcan’s historical adventure ‘New Zealand: A Novel’ continues with bloodshed between Maori tribes. Here’s Chapter 17…

Posted: October 30, 2026 in New Zealand: A Novel
Tags: , , , , , , , ,
0

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 17

Aotearoa, Early 1500s

The late thirteenth century had seen the advent of the pa, the fortified village that served as a stronghold for iwis under siege in Aotearoa. By the early 1500’s, those fortifications were becoming remarkably sophisticated. Nowhere was this better demonstrated than on the rocky headland at the southern end of the bay occupied by the Ngati Porou iwi. Like pa sites elsewhere, the iwi had made best use of the available terrain.

The headland that accommodated the pa extended some distance out into the Pacific and overlooked the entire bay as well as miles of coastline to the north and south. Cleared of bush, the only vegetation left was a line of pohutukawa trees that ran along the clifftops. The steep, white cliffs ensured that access was only possible from the land. Anyone who tried to attack from the sea could easily be repelled. A few boys throwing rocks would suffice.

The pa’s main defences were concentrated on protecting its entrance. Two lines of trenches had been dug from one side of the narrow headland to the other to help repel any raiders who chose to attack on foot. These same trenches could be turned into killing fields when enemies tried to cross them. Each was surmounted by a stockade to doubly protect the defenders, and underground tunnels enabled them to retreat if they were in danger of being over-run. This clever design, used by the Ngati Porou and increasingly by Maori everywhere, was surprisingly advanced and effective – as British troops would discover to their cost one day.

The pa itself comprised sturdy timber ramparts surmounted by wooden lookout towers and fighting platforms. These were the last line of defence should the trenches not do the job they were designed to do.

Behind the ramparts, an entire kainga [village] had been constructed. It comprised whares, storage houses, kumara pits and gardens, and most prominent of all a wharenui, or meeting house. It was here the eight hundred villagers would live if attacked.

The pa’s one drawback was that the headland it occupied had no stream or other source of freshwater, which explained why the iwi had opted to establish its permanent settlement on a riverbank half a mile inland. Iwi members only relocated to their coastal pa when there was risk of an attack – as was the case now.

Mahanga, the ageing rangatira of the Ngati Porou, paused in his early morning inspection of the fortifications to stare at a hill, which stood like a sentinel at the northern end of the bay that the pa overlooked. Kaiti Hill was the ancestral site of the Ngati Oneone hapu, a sub-tribe whose marae was located at the base of the hill. From the hill’s summit they had uninterrupted views north to the eastern cape where Mahanga knew the Te Arawa war party was preparing to launch its attack. He’d learned this from the enemy scout his men had captured and tortured several days earlier. Ngati Oneone residents would alert their Ngati Porou neighbours of any approaching threat as the two peoples were close allies. Unless they happened to be cut off, the former would relocate to the pa on the headland in the event of an attack.

Before dying, the Te Arawa scout had proven talkative after having had his feet held to the flames of a cooking fire. The information he’d imparted had given Mahanga a couple of sleepless nights.

Yawning as he continued his inspection tour, he reviewed what he’d learned. By all accounts the enemy’s rangatira, Apera, had three hundred battle-hardened warriors and numerous wakas, including those they’d taken possession of at Tokomaru Bay. More disturbingly, it was evident he was intent on invading the Ngati Porou pa.

The number of warriors the Te Arawa had didn’t concern Mahanga. He had that many and more, and he didn’t think the wakas would be of use to his enemies because any attack from the sea would be futile. If they didn’t already realise that, he thought, they soon would. What did concern the rangatira was the Te Arawa warriors were by all accounts battle-hardened, having prevailed in numerous conflicts with coastal iwis during their journey south from Maketu, a place Mahanga had never heard of. While his own warriors had been tested, having repelled half a dozen attacks on the pa by southern war parties in recent years, they could hardly be described as battle-hardened. The pa’s impressive fortifications had so far rebuffed any attacks, and his warriors had not yet had to engage in any serious hand-to-hand fighting. Such was the advantage those fortifications provided. The Te Arawa warriors might present an altogether different proposition. 

What most concerned Mahanga, however, was the pa’s lack of fresh water. Water had to be carried to the site in wooden calabashes and poured into purpose-built, rocky ponds, which had been designed to catch rainwater and act as reservoirs in times of need. However, even when full the ponds would only sustain the iwi’s eight hundred people for seven to ten days at most during dry periods. As luck would have it, the present winter was one of the driest in living memory, and there was no sign of rain on the horizon. In the event of a siege, someone would have to descend the cliffs in darkness, fill calabashes with water from one of the streams that emptied into the bay and return unnoticed. That he realised would be quite a challenge as any self-respecting enemy would be on guard against such attempts.

The rangatira’s thoughts turned to his Te Arawa counterpart as he stopped to observe half a dozen men who were replacing rotting timbers on either side of the pa’s entrance. He’d never heard of Apera, but thought he sounded like someone to be reckoned with even if only half what the captured scout had told him was true. The scout said the ancestors of Apera and his people had travelled to Aotearoa aboard the Arawa waka. Pondering that fact, Mahanga looked north again. As he did he subconsciously massaged the stub of an extra small finger on his left hand – a family trait his late father and great grandfather had also been born with. He remained unaware that Apera shared the same trait or that they were both descended from Hotu who had first journeyed to Aotearoa aboard the Ronui – the very waka which had landed on the same beach he now surveyed.

Since the arrival of Mahanga’s ancestors on these shores, his people had flourished. The land and sea had provided all they needed, and any inter-tribal disputes had generally been settled quickly and peacefully. Change was afoot unfortunately. Iwis were now at war throughout Aotearoa. And war was coming Mahanga’s way. Of that he was sure. 

The rangatira was distracted by the sounds of sticks clashing to the accompaniment of grunts of exertion. He looked around and saw his daughter-in-law Anahera sparring with a teenage boy nearby. The pair each wielded a wooden taiaha, or close-quarters staff, a weapon favoured by Maori everywhere. Useful for short, sharp strikes and stabbing thrusts, its use required superior hand-speed, deft footwork and considerable skill.

Mahanga’s daughter-in-law was, he thought, well named. Anahera in Maori folklore stood for Majestic and Powerful Angel. And that she was. Anahera’s sculpted body turned heads wherever she went, and although much lighter than the bulky teenager she sparred with, she was giving him a painful lesson. That was no surprise to the rangatira or to any of the other spectators who had gathered to watch the training session. The young wahine was after all a blooded warrior who had proved herself in battle. Wahines like her – and there were more than a few – often fought alongside their men with distinction.

The bulky teenager grunted in pain as his skillful tutor delivered a blow to an unprotected shin.

“Protect your legs!” Anahera said as she switched her grip on the taiaha and whacked the teenager across one shoulder with it, prompting another grunt from her victim.

“Protect your shoulders, too!” a spectator yelled, causing mirth amongst others watching and causing the teenager no small amount of embarrassment.

“Ignore them,” Anahera said to her bloodied and bruised student. “They can’t fight to save themselves.”

As the training session continued, Mahanga noticed one of his scouts jogging toward him through the pa’s entrance.

“The Te Arawa dogs are coming!” the scout shouted.

“Overland?” Mahanga asked as the breathless scout stopped in front of him.

“Ae…Overland…They will arrive in two days…Three at most.”

“How many?”

“We counted at least two hundred and fifty warriors.”

Mahanga pondered this as villagers began crowding around, keen to hear what the scout had to report. Anahera and her teenage sparring partner were among them.

Pushing through the crowd, Anahera stood before the scout. “Only two hundred and fifty warriors?” she asked. “The Te Arawa prisoner told us they had at least three hundred.” She knew that to be a fact as she was one of those who had held the captive’s feet to the fire before he died.

The scout didn’t like being questioned by a wahine, not even one related by marriage to Mahanga, and he glanced at the rangatira who nodded almost imperceptibly. “They left about forty warriors behind at Tokomaru to guard their slaves and wakas,” the scout mumbled.

Mahanga placed one hand on the scout’s shoulder. “You did well. Eat and rest, and then inform the others I want regular reports on our enemies’ progress.” The others he referred to were the other twelve scouts patrolling overland approaches to the pa.

The scout nodded and jogged off, leaving Mahanga to decide on the best course of action. He turned to Anahera. “Inform your husband of this news,” he said, referring to Nikau, his oldest son. “Bring him to the meeting house.”

Anahera hurried off to find Nikau while her father-in-law walked back to the quarters he shared with his three wives and their extended family. He wanted to check on them before he held a council of war with his headmen.

War was coming and he wanted his people to be ready.

Mahanga had good reason to be concerned: his Te Arawa counterpart, Apera, was at that moment leading a two hundred and sixty-strong raiding party north from Tokomaru Bay, their destination the Ngati Porou pa. They would present the biggest challenge his people had ever faced.

CHAPTER 18

Aotearoa, Early 1500s

The Te Arawa raiders had set out on foot at first light from Tokomaru Bay. Their number included six slaves. Forty warriors remained behind to guard the remaining slaves, wakas and other plunder they’d acquired…

>>> NEW ZEALAND: A NOVEL continues next week.

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Meet Nicholas Young… a leading character in ‘New Zealand: A Novel’

Posted: March 14, 2025 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Tall for his age, the good-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed lad had an eye for the working girls who frequented London’s 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.

That’s how I introduce Nicholas Young (above) in an early chapter of my historical adventure New Zealand: A Novel. The 17-year-old medical student is about to be recruited to serve as Surgeon’s Assistant aboard a vessel called the Endeavour.

Excerpt continues:

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.”

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To celebrate the acceptance of New Zealand: A Novel into Waterstones UK & Europe bookstores, the book’s Kindle version will be FREE on Amazon March 15-17 PDT.

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Sailors enjoy hospitality of Tahitian wahines in this excerpt from ‘New Zealand: A Novel’

Posted: February 28, 2025 in New Zealand: A Novel
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The Tahitians’ unconstrained attitude to sex and, indeed, to life itself, was as far from European ways as Tahiti was from England. That was one of the first observations the men of Captain James Cook’s bark the Endeavour made during a stopover in Tahiti in 1769. They were there so that Cook could record the upcoming transit of Venus before sailing south to discover new lands. His men, however, had other priorities.

In the following excerpt from my new release historical adventure New Zealand: A Novel, the Endeavour’s company enjoy the hospitality of the villagers of Matavai Bay (pictured) early in their stay…

The feast that followed was worth the wait. Served on trays fashioned from the bark of trees, it included all manner of exotic fruit, fresh crayfish, prawns and oysters, and roasted pork and turtle meat topped with coconut cream. The food was served with generous quantities of kava, which, despite being an acquired taste, was well received by most of the visitors.

By now the celebrations were in full swing and many of the visitors were becoming intoxicated. Some of the worst-affected of the Endeavour’s company lay in a stupor on the ground while those still sober or partly sober participated in the trading now underway; others took advantage of the comforts offered by friendly wahines. Many of the womenfolk were either married or betrothed yet their promiscuity seldom caused arguments.

Unfortunately, venereal disease would soon sweep through the Endeavour’s crew, affecting thirty-two sailors and six of the marines – an unfortunate development that would surprise Cook. Surgeon Monkhouse had assured him his men were not poxed before they reached Tahiti, and the Dolphin’s medical records confirmed that the clap had not been a problem during her visit to these same shores. This could only mean the French were the culprits as their ships had been the only vessels to anchor in Matavai Bay since the Dolphin’s historic visit.

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New Zealand: A Novel is available at Waterstones Bookstores UK & Europe and via Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/New-Zealand-Novel-Lance-Morcan/dp/0473728524/

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Christmas dinner in 1769 surprisingly good aboard the Endeavour

Posted: December 24, 2024 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Researching my new release, historical adventure New Zealand: A Novel, I discovered that Christmas dinner for the crew of the Endeavour on December 25th, 1769, was surprisingly good. That’s according to one logbook entry penned by English botanist Joseph Banks who also alluded to heavy drinking by fellow crewmembers that particular Christmas.

The Endeavour, helmed by Captain James Cook, had anchored off Three Kings Islands, in New Zealand’s Far North, during her circumnavigation of the country. What transpired is covered in the following excerpt from my novel…

The crew spent Christmas Day anchored off Three Kings Islands, a small island group that had been discovered by Abel Tasman. For Christmas dinner, the bark’s company enjoyed a meal that passed as goose pie thanks to the marksmanship of Banks who had shot a good number of gannets the previous day.

The meal was so well received that Banks made mention of it in his diary entry that evening. It read:

“Our goose pye was eaten with great approbation and in the evening all hands were as drunk as our forefathers used to be on such an occasion.” 

Cook, who was never one for frivolity, didn’t mention the dinner in his logbook. Nor did he make mention of the sorry state of his men the following day. Banks did mention it, however, stating: “All heads ached with yesterday’s debauchery.”

New Zealand: A Novel was launched last week as a Kindle ebook and paperback. First reviews are in! https://www.amazon.com/New-Zealand-Novel-Lance-Morcan-ebook/dp/B0DPTJTDCQ

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‘New Zealand: A Novel’ is FREE on Kindle this weekend Dec. 14 & 15 PST

Posted: December 13, 2024 in New Zealand: A Novel
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To celebrate the launch of my epic historical adventure New Zealand: A Novel, it’s free to download on Kindle on Saturday and Sunday December 14 and 15 PST.

New Zealand: A Novel spans almost 500 years and covers the respective discoveries of New Zealand by Pacific Islanders and Europeans. From the outset the two stories are interposed. It starts in the 1300’s with the departure of Islanders from Hawaiki in search of land far to the south.

The hardy, brown-skinned people who arrive here first call themselves Maori and they call their new home Aotearoa – land of the long, white cloud. The fascinating, eventful and sometimes violent lives of descendants of those first arrivals are traced through the centuries until the arrival of Europeans aboard Captain James Cook’s bark the Endeavour. Cook names the new land New Zealand.

Maoris call the white intruders pakeha. Their arrival heralds a clash of two vastly different ideologies as European civilization collides head on with indigenous culture.

The misunderstandings, tension and bloodshed that follow are relayed as seen through the eyes of one of the Endeavour’s youngest and most engaging crewmembers, Surgeon’s Assistant Nicholas Young, as the vessel embarks on its historic circumnavigation of the country.

Amidst the life-threatening challenges Nicholas faces at sea and on land, the young man finds true love when he meets Anika, a beautiful Maori princess who steals his heart.

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This novel is also available via Amazon as a paperback and will soon be available as a hardcover and audiobook.

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Final days before launch of my historical adventure epic ‘New Zealand: A Novel’ on Amazon!

Posted: December 6, 2024 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Shrouded in cloud at the bottom of the world, this was the land that time forgot: the last sizeable piece of undiscovered land on Earth. Two hundred million years after breaking away from the vast southern continent of Gondwana, Man had yet to leave his footprints on this prehistoric place.


Mythology would have it the land was fished up out of the ocean. In fact, earthquakes and volcanic activity forced it to literally erupt from the seabed. This violent birth left it with a majestic ruggedness that would always reflect its former turbulence.

Over time, its features softened. Scenes of beauty emerged out of the mists. There was a haunting stillness about the land. It was a place of mystery – of magical forests and sparkling lakes and rivers. And the sea surrounded it like some huge tidal moat.

Its isolation ensured it wouldn’t be until well into the First Millennium AD that Man would step foot on these shores. The hardy, brown-skinned people who arrived here called themselves Maori and they called their new home Aotearoa – land of the long, white cloud.

Not until its rediscovery centuries later by European explorers would the land receive the name by which it is known today: New Zealand. Their arrival would herald a clash of two vastly different ideologies as European civilization collided with indigenous culture.

It was a time of conflict, lust and adventure.

*

You’ve been reading the blurb for New Zealand: A Novel. It’s a tale of treachery, lust and conflict. It spans almost 500 years and covers the respective discoveries of New Zealand by Pacific Islanders and Europeans. From the outset the two stories are interposed. It starts in the 1300’s with the departure of Islanders from Hawaiki in search of land far to the south.

Coming soon!

View the novel on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/221413728-new-zealand

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FREE OFFER FOR SUBSCRIBERS & NEW SUBSCRIBERS! Advanced reading copies (ARCs) available for ‘New Zealand: A Novel’

Posted: November 25, 2024 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Attention lovers of books and films…If you subscribe to, or are already a subscriber, of Morcan Books and Films blog and wish to receive an ARC pdf of my soon-to-be-released historical adventure novel, D.M. me or email me at sterlinggatebooks@gmail.com and I’ll forward a pdf of the manuscript to you immediately.

This epic novel will appeal to lovers of historical fiction, historical romance and lovers of adventure novels. It spans almost 500 years and covers the respective discoveries of New Zealand by Maori and European. It starts in the 1300’s with the departure of Pacific Islanders from Hawaiki in search of land far to the south.

The Kindle ebook and paperback versions of the novel will be published on Amazon before Christmas. Hardcover and audio versions will follow in the New Year.

ARC offer ends December 8th.

–Lance Morcan – Co-author of Into the Americas, White Spirit, The Ninth Orphan and Fiji: A Novel.

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Aboard the bark the Endeavour, land is sighted by Nicholas Young in this excerpt from ‘New Zealand: A Novel’

Posted: November 22, 2024 in New Zealand: A Novel
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Nicholas wasn’t sure what woke him – a sudden flap of the billowing sails perhaps or the curses of a sailor who had tripped on the deck below. Then he saw it. Land! Off to the north-west. Now fully awake, he pushed himself to his feet, shouting, “Land ahoy! Land ahoy!”

His cries were like music to the ears of his crewmates. Cheers went up around the bark as others saw what Nicholas had seen. Some were convinced it must be part of the continent they were searching for. Cook knew better. Instinct told him this was the eastern shoreline of New Zealand, the land whose west coast Abel Tasman had discovered and charted the previous century.

On descending from the crow’s nest, Nicholas collected his extra rum ration. He would later share it around, reinforcing his status as one of the most popular members of the bark’s company.

While the men celebrated, the captain reviewed his written orders. Those orders stipulated that upon reaching the unexplored southern land he was to explore as much of its coast as the condition of his vessel and health of his crew would allow.

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So unfavourable were the winds, it was two days before the Endeavour was able to close with the coast. The sight that greeted the men was worth the wait as the shoreline was as picturesque as any they had seen in their travels to date.  Sunshine pierced the clouds, reflecting off a sandy surf beach. A prominent headland marked the southern entrance to a sheltered bay. Its steep, white cliffs were similar to England’s white cliffs of Dover except for the line of pohutukawa trees that ran along the clifftops. Those same trees would bloom in a little over two months’ time, displaying their scarlet flowers in a festival of colour.

Cook named the headland Young Nick’s Head in recognition of the crewmember who first sighted it.

Standing by the portside rail, the captain studied the headland through his telescope. Manmade structures atop it offered the first sign that the land was inhabited. He was looking at a Maori pa site constructed by one of the region’s native tribes. Its stockades comprised rows of long, pointed poles, giving the headland a fort-like appearance. Behind them were whares, which didn’t appear to be occupied. In front of the stockades were terraces, which accommodated deep manmade trenches. To Cook’s critical eye, the headland looked like it could be easily defended against invaders: it was a natural fortress.

The captain turned his attention to the bay. Satisfied it would offer safe anchorage he lowered his telescope and turned around to look for his bosun Robert Molyneaux. He sighted the Lancashire man standing by the port-side rail. “To shore, Mister Molyneaux, and see that all hands are on deck!”

“Aye, Captain,” the bosun said. “To shore it is.” He hurried off, barking orders as he went, to ensure his master’s orders were carried out.

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The paperback and Kindle ebook versions of ‘New Zealand: A Novel’ will be published on Amazon before Christmas; the hardcover and audiobook versions will follow in the New Year.

Watch this space!

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