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.
*
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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Morcan Books & Films 