第 1 章
Uncharted Waters: The Epic Journey of Captain Cook
In January 1778, when Hawaiian fishermen spotted two enormous ships approaching Kaua'i, they witnessed what would become one of history's most consequential first encounters. One fisherman, Mapua, saw silhouettes with fire burning atop them and strange holes on their sides. Terrified, he paddled to shore to alert his chief about this "wonderful apparition." As the ships drew closer, brave paddlers investigated and reported seeing strange humanoid creatures with "deformed" heads (actually tricorne hats) and "loose and folding skin" (their uniforms). A massive crowd gathered on the beach, filled with both fear and fascination, sensing their world was about to change forever.
This dramatic meeting was part of Captain James Cook's third voyage, an expedition that would cement his legacy as history's greatest explorer while revealing the complexities of cross-cultural contact. Cook's voyages transformed our understanding of the Pacific world, expanded European geographical knowledge, and initiated profound changes for indigenous peoples across the region. Hampton Sides' "The Wide Wide Sea" offers an immersive journey through this remarkable expedition that would ultimately end with Cook's violent death on a Hawaiian beach - a death that would transform him from celebrated explorer to controversial symbol of European imperialism.
第 2 章
The Reluctant Explorer and His Extraordinary Mission
By 1776, James Cook had already become a celebrated explorer who had disproved the existence of Terra Australis Incognita-a hypothetical southern continent many scientists believed must exist to balance Earth's northern landmasses. During his second voyage (1772-1774), Cook sailed HMS Resolution deep into Antarctic waters, reaching 7110' South and coming within a hundred miles of Antarctica itself. Despite encountering towering icebergs and ice-rimed rigging, he found no continental landmass and declared the unknown continent a fiction. Cook had made an important "negative discovery," becoming what one biographer called an "executioner of misbegotten hypotheses."
At forty-six, Cook had decided he was finished with exploration, writing, "I was in hopes that I had put an end to all voyages to the Pacific Ocean." After seven years at sea, he accepted an honorary position as captain at Greenwich Hospital, a comfortable sinecure that paid well while requiring little effort. This position allowed him to write about his travels while spending time with Elizabeth and their children. Yet despite these comforts, Cook quickly grew restless. "My fate drives me from one extreme to another," he lamented. "A few months ago the whole Southern Hemisphere was hardly big enough for me, and now I am going to be confined within the limits of Greenwich Hospital, which are far too small for an active mind like mine."
Cook's boredom intensified when he learned the Admiralty was planning a new expedition that would take the Resolution to the Pacific without him. The voyage would return Mai (a Polynesian who had traveled to England on Cook's second voyage) to Tahiti with royal farm animals, but its primary objective was to explore North America's northwest coast and search for the fabled Northwest Passage from the Pacific side-a reverse approach never seriously attempted before. This quest for a navigable waterway connecting England to Asian markets had long been a goal of English exploration, with Parliament offering 20,000 to whoever discovered it.
In February 1776, Cook received a dinner invitation from John Montagu, Fourth Earl of Sandwich and First Lord of the Admiralty. During this dinner with other naval officials, conversation turned to the upcoming expedition. As they discussed the voyage's "grandeur and dignity" and "consequences to navigation and science," Cook suddenly rose and declared he would lead the mission himself-exactly as Sandwich had secretly hoped. Within days, Cook received his commission and began preparing the Resolution. Though outwardly confident, he confided to friends his concerns: "It is certain I have quit an easy retirement for an active, and perhaps dangerous voyage."
第 3 章
A Proto-Anthropologist Among Indigenous Cultures
Though Cook failed to find a southern supercontinent, his voyages revealed numerous Pacific islands, many previously unknown to Europeans. As a self-taught observer of Indigenous cultures, Cook demonstrated remarkable open-mindedness for his era. Without formal training, he became a proto-anthropologist and ethnographer, documenting island societies with unusual tolerance and objectivity. Unlike many contemporaries, Cook never attempted to convert natives to Christianity nor moralized about their customs.
Though violent conflicts occasionally erupted between his crews and Indigenous peoples, Cook generally preferred peaceful engagement-often being first ashore, usually unarmed. While advancing Britain's imperial ambitions, Cook's personal interest seemed more scientific than colonial. He approached new cultures with empirical curiosity rather than judgment, embodying Enlightenment principles of impartial observation. What drove him most were moments of pure discovery-opportunities to study, measure, and document the entirely new.
This approach was evident during his encounter with the Palawa people of Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania). Though this was likely their first encounter with Europeans, the Palawa appeared remarkably unfazed-neither frightened nor particularly impressed. Cook described them as naked, their black-brown bodies daubed with ocher and marked with keloid scars in half-moon patterns. Unlike many of his men who made derogatory judgments, Cook maintained a neutral anthropological tone in his observations.
The Palawa showed little interest in the European gifts, refusing bread and fish while accepting birds. They appeared content despite what Europeans perceived as primitive conditions, often bursting into "immoderate fits of laughter." Communication proved impossible-Mai's attempts at Tahitian yielded no understanding. Cook, believing the Palawa lacked sufficient food sources, attempted to donate a boar and sow to establish a pig population. However, the Natives misunderstood his intention, immediately trying to slaughter the animals for food rather than breeding them.
Cook particularly admired a "much deformed" Aboriginal man with severe spinal curvature who served as the tribe's comic philosopher and diplomat. Despite his men's inappropriate advances toward Aboriginal women, Cook was relieved when an elderly chief ordered the women to withdraw. Before departing, Cook reflected on the Palawa's simple but dignified lifestyle, noting they "live in a tranquility which is not disturbed by the inequality of condition." Sadly, within a century of Cook's visit, European settlers would nearly exterminate the Palawa through disease and violence.
第 4 章
Mai: The First Pacific Islander in England
Mai's journey to England aboard the Adventure made him a social sensation in London. Captain Furneaux took him directly to London and placed him in the care of Joseph Banks, the noted botanist who had accompanied Cook on his first voyage. Banks, a wealthy bachelor of thirty-one with "a doughy face, impish eyes, and an incipient Falstaffian paunch," eagerly became Mai's patron, following an English tradition of bringing Indigenous people to Britain for entertainment and study.
Mai was presented to King George III at the royal estate in Kew. Though nervous, Mai greeted the king with "How do, King Tosh!" (his attempt at pronouncing "George") and explained his desire for weapons to fight his enemies in Bora Bora. The king promised Mai would be returned to the South Pacific and suggested sending him with livestock and plants to establish British-style farming.
After arriving in London, Mai became a social sensation, meeting everyone of distinction from Parliament members to King George III himself. He toured St. Paul's Cathedral, visited Cambridge University, and sat for portraits by England's most celebrated artists. Joshua Reynolds painted him in a monumental eight-foot canvas, portraying him in classical pose as though addressing subjects, while Nathaniel Dance-Holland depicted him holding an iri, a symbol of Tahitian aristocracy that, ironically, a commoner like Mai would never have been permitted to touch in his homeland.
Mai quickly adapted to London society, becoming an accomplished card player and chess master who once famously defeated the Italian intellectual Giuseppe Baretti. Even the cantankerous Samuel Johnson was impressed, noting there was "so little of the savage in Omai." Though he lived first with Joseph Banks before getting his own residence on Warwick Street with a Crown allowance, Mai often felt melancholy during London's bleak winters.
Society debated how best to educate him-some advocated religious instruction to save his soul from Tahitian "depravities," while others focused on basic education. The abolitionist Granville Sharp attempted to teach him writing and Christianity, though Mai remained confused by concepts like adultery, cheerfully declaring "Two wives, very good. Three wives-very, very good!" Despite his charm, Mai never forgot his mission to master firearms-the key to avenging his father's death and reclaiming his family lands from Bora Bora invaders.
第 5 章
Paradise Found: The Expedition Reaches Tahiti
For days, Mai anxiously scanned the horizon for his homeland, his demeanor changing noticeably as they approached. On August 12, 1777, after four slow weeks from Tonga, the lookout finally spotted the great volcano of Tahiti hanging in the distance.
The men were ecstatic to reach this legendary paradise-Tahiti, King George III Island, or "New Cythera" as Bougainville had named it after Aphrodite's birthplace. Many young sailors had signed on specifically to visit this mythic utopia where bread grew on trees, fish darted through turquoise lagoons, and sex could reportedly be had "for the price of a nail." After twenty thousand arduous miles since leaving Plymouth over a year ago, Cook's men were ready for what he called a good "refreshing."
When Tahitian paddlers approached the Resolution, they joyfully recognized "Toote!" (Cook). Among them was Mai's brother-in-law, who oddly showed no emotion upon seeing Mai-until Mai displayed red feathers collected in Tonga. The man's demeanor transformed instantly. These feathers, emblems of the cult of Oro signifying blood and fertility, were more precious to Tahitians than any European goods.
More troubling news awaited ashore. During Cook's three-year absence, a Spanish expedition had visited Tahiti, claiming it for King Carlos III and attempting to convert its people to Catholicism. They had even brought animals and plants, seemingly preempting Cook's own plans. At a small prefabricated house built for Spanish friars, Cook found a cross marking the grave of commander Domingo de Bonechea with an inscription claiming Tahiti for Spain. Furious, Cook removed it and had another inscription engraved noting Britain's prior visits.
Mai was crestfallen to learn that two Tahitians had already traveled to Lima and returned-he was not the unique world-traveler he had imagined himself to be. One of these men had adopted Spanish mannerisms and expressions, though he considered Peru "destitute" because "there were no red feathers there." The Spanish had even told Tahitians they had "erased the rascally breed" of England "from the face of the earth."
Cook grew increasingly frustrated with Mai's behavior on Tahiti. Despite initially trying to ingratiate himself with Tu (the local chief) through lavish gifts and dinners, Mai's diplomatic efforts failed. He preferred socializing with common people while simultaneously demanding special treatment. Mai had acquired followers from Tahiti in addition to his Maori servants, creating a train of hangers-on.
The fundamental problem was Mai's wealth itself, which created social instability in a culture with different concepts of property. As one historian noted, in the Society Islands, private wealth was like "a sore on a healthy body: social forces would eradicate it, and smooth it over until it vanished." The Tahitians didn't know how to deal with a lowly person who possessed more than any chieftain.
第 6 章
The Darkening Voyage: Cook's Changing Character
After leaving Tahiti, Cook's expedition headed to Huahine, where he had decided to settle Mai with his English cargo and retinue. Though Mai preferred to return to his native Raiatea and reclaim his family lands from Bora Bora warriors with Cook's military assistance, Cook refused to support such warfare.
Upon arriving at Huahine's harbor near the settlement of Fare, Cook met with the locals, who seemed excessively friendly. The island's sovereign was a ten-year-old boy named Teri'i-tari'a, whose mother actually managed affairs until he reached maturity. After exchanging gifts and prayers, Cook explained his intention to settle Mai on Huahine permanently. One intimidated local chief grandly proclaimed that Cook owned all of Huahine and could choose any land he wished for Mai.
Cook marked off a beachfront plot about two hundred yards wide, "purchasing" it for fifteen axes and some trinkets. The carpenters began constructing a proper English house for Mai, designed without nails so there would be "no inducement to pull it down." The twenty-four by eighteen-foot structure included a basement for food storage, ammunition magazine, and outbuildings for Mai's retinue including his brother, cousins, Tahitian attendants, and two Maori servants.
As departure neared, Mai moved his English treasures into his new house, which bore a Latin inscription declaring King George III's protection. Mai hosted farewell parties featuring port wine, barbecued pork, music, and fireworks, showing off his menagerie of European animals and mechanical curiosities like his barrel organ. Though sometimes pensive about his future and the threat from his Bora Boran enemy, Mai had become beloved by the crew.
Mai's native island of Raiatea was home to the rare tiare apetahi flower that would only grow in one specific location-an apt metaphor for Mai himself, who could never truly take root elsewhere despite his world travels. His fate after Cook's departure remains murky, pieced together from oral histories and later European accounts. Most stories agree that Mai lived only a few years, dying around 1780 from a throat infection likely introduced by a Spanish ship. Having no children, Mai's possessions were dispersed after his death and his house dismantled.
Before his death, Mai did achieve his primary goal-he fought bravely against the Bora Borans using his English weapons, helping the people of Huahine win a decisive victory. Though he never permanently reclaimed his family lands on Raiatea, he had avenged his father's murder as he'd vowed.
Throughout the voyage, Cook's behavior showed troubling signs of change. Once known for his equanimity, he now seemed restless, preoccupied, and occasionally tyrannical-possibly suffering from physical pain that some speculate might be sciatica, gallbladder disease, or vitamin deficiency. His judgment appeared increasingly erratic, and he ordered floggings more frequently than on previous voyages.
This darker side emerged dramatically during an incident at Moorea. When a goat was stolen, Cook ordered a punitive expedition into the mountainous interior. Finding the coastal village where the goat was allegedly hidden largely abandoned, Cook ordered every house burned when the animal wasn't found. His men torched huts, burned crops, slaughtered livestock, and confiscated food stores in a campaign of destruction that shocked many of his own officers.
This behavior marked a disturbing escalation from Cook's previous disciplinary measures. While he had shown cruelty months earlier in Tonga by flogging natives beyond navy limits, cutting off ears, and even having a cross carved into one man's shoulder, the widespread destruction on Moorea represented punishment of an entire community for one person's theft.
第 7 章
The Quest for the Northwest Passage
Departing from Hawaii, Cook's ships sailed northeast toward North America, covering nearly 2,500 miles in five uneventful weeks. As they neared the Oregon coast, the weather turned brutal with sleet, snow, and fog reducing visibility to near zero. The ships frequently lost sight of each other in heaving swells, communicating through guns, drums, bells and torches. On March 7, they glimpsed the snow-dusted Oregon coastline through parting clouds, with Cook naming a basalt outcropping "Cape Foulweather"-a name that endures today.
For four days, fierce squalls forced Cook to retreat over a hundred miles south, with the ships' wooden structures straining dangerously. The crew narrowly escaped several collisions with submerged rocks. Despite these challenges, Cook remained focused on his mission rather than exploring the Columbia River or the Strait of Juan de Fuca-omissions some critics later questioned, though investigating these features would have violated his orders and potentially delayed his journey to Alaska by months.
At Nootka Sound, the Mowachaht people-whom Cook mistakenly named "Nootkans" after misinterpreting their directions-greeted the expedition with curiosity. These "People of the Deer" had inhabited the area for at least four thousand years and initially believed the pale Europeans to be salmon transformed into human form, comparing their features to different fish species.
The cultural exchange began with a beautiful ceremony at dusk, where a Mowachaht shaman scattered feathers on the water and sang while shaking rattles made of clamshells and deer hooves. Cook's sailors responded with French horn music, creating a peaceful musical dialogue before both groups retired for the night.
Cook's ships required extensive repairs, forcing a lengthy stay that allowed for significant trade with the Mowachaht. The natives proved shrewd traders, accepting only metal items-even stripping buttons from clothing-in exchange for furs, skins, whale oil, and exquisite crafts. The Mowachaht's magnificent canoes, carved from single trees and adorned with intricate designs, particularly impressed the Europeans.
After leaving Nootka Sound, Cook's expedition spent nearly a week navigating the treacherous waters along the Kenai Peninsula. Though the coast was trending southwest-opposite their desired direction-they spotted another promising gap on May 25th, a wide sixty-mile opening that Ledyard thought might be "a vast river" with "hopes again of a passage."
Cook faced his recurring dilemma: explore or ignore? Though still below the sixty-five-degree north latitude specified in his instructions, he worried the Admiralty would criticize him for bypassing such a significant opening. Yet exploring it might waste precious time in Alaska's brief summer if it led nowhere.
He decided to investigate what would later be known as Cook Inlet. For several days, the inlet remained promising-wide, deep (twenty-four fathoms), with fine dark sand bottom and consistent salt water. As they pushed thirty miles inland, spirits lifted at the possibility this might indeed be the Northwest Passage shown on some Russian maps.
As Cook sailed deeper into the inlet, discouraging signs mounted-narrowing channels, increasing silt, waterlogged timber, and fresh water readings. The wildly fluctuating tidal range proved especially challenging, with one of the world's most powerful bore tides creating a differential of nearly thirty feet between ebb and flood.
Despite his growing certainty this was merely an estuary, Cook pressed on to satisfy his officers and avoid future criticism. After 150 miles, they reached a fork near present-day Anchorage, where Cook sent Bligh and King to explore the two branches. Both returned confirming there was no passage-only rivers fed by snowmelt from the magnificent Alaska Range.
第 8 章
Fatal Paradise: Cook's Final Days in Hawaii
After breaking free into the vast Bering Sea, Cook traced nearly the entirety of Alaska's west coast through July with remarkable determination. Despite constant rain, fog, and gales, he methodically charted Bristol Bay (which he named), Kuskokwim Bay, and the great curve of Norton Sound, encountering the Yupik people along the way.
By August 10th, the perpetual fog lifted to reveal Cape Prince of Wales, the westernmost point of Alaska. Having precisely measured this landmark, Cook had accomplished something monumental: determining the exact width of North America. From here, he made an impulsive dash across the Bering Strait to set foot on Asia, something he had never done in all his travels.
The week following Cook's visit to Asia marked the expedition's pinnacle, with momentous crossings in rapid succession. By August 11th, the ships had passed from the Pacific into the Arctic Ocean and crossed the sixty-fifth parallel where Cook's instructions specified beginning the search for the Northwest Passage. The crew's spirits soared as they sailed through open sea with no hint of ice, making the Resolution the first vessel to cross both Antarctic and Arctic Circles.
But their euphoria was short-lived. Cook first noticed a "sharpness of the air and gloominess of the weather," followed by an eerie white gleam in the sky-iceblink, a reflection of ice on clouds. Hours later, they encountered a massive ice pack "compact as a wall" and "ten or twelve feet high at least." This contradicted Daines Barrington's theories that August would bring clear seas and balmy weather.
By late August, Cook reached Cape Schmidt on Russia's Arctic coast, having traveled four hundred miles along the pack edge. Concluding it was "not consistent with prudence" to continue, he decided to winter in the Pacific and return in spring. Rather than spending the winter in cold Kamchatka, Cook announced they would head south to the Sandwich Isles (Hawaii), where they could enjoy tropical paradise while preparing for another attempt at the passage.
In January 1779, Cook's ships entered Kealakekua Bay on Hawaii's Kona Coast-a stunning harbor with crystalline waters and towering volcanic cliffs. Known as "the Pathway of the Gods," this sacred place was the seat of royal power and religious significance, where chiefs were entombed in secret caves along the cliff face. Cook arrived to find an astonishing reception: ten thousand Hawaiians gathered in wild celebration, with over a thousand canoes surrounding the ships. The people appeared deliriously happy, creating a tumultuous scene of singing, chanting, and drumming that echoed off the lava walls.
When Cook finally stepped ashore at Kealakekua Bay, he was met with extraordinary reverence. The kahuna Koa escorted him while crowds prostrated themselves, chanting "Lono, Lono, Lono." Lieutenant James King, now Cook's trusted right-hand man, found the people's behavior disturbing, noting it "seemed to approach to adoration." John Ledyard observed how the natives would instantly drop to the ground whenever Cook merely turned his head.
Many of Cook's officers confirmed that Hawaiians called Cook by the name "Lono," though King noted some ambiguity about whether this referred to "an invisible being who lived in the heavens" or "a personage of great rank and power." Cook likely participated in these ceremonies to show respect for local customs, satisfy his anthropological curiosity, and most practically, to secure the goodwill needed to obtain vital supplies.
第 9 章
The Violent End of Captain Cook
The fortnight following Cook's arrival at Kealakekua Bay was a period of remarkable tranquility and mutual goodwill. The Hawaiian people welcomed the visitors with extraordinary hospitality, providing abundant food and allowing the expedition's work to proceed without interference. Lieutenant Rickman noted, "Every article that wanted either to be reviewed or repaired was sent on shore, and not the least interruption was given."
After weeks of hearing about the powerful ruler Kalani'opu'u, on January 26, 1779, the king's impressive fleet of over 150 war canoes finally arrived at Kealakekua Bay. Cook's men were surprised to discover that this feared monarch was actually scrawny, elderly, and in poor health-"an old man and very feeble" with inflamed eyes and scurfy skin from kava consumption. Despite his frail appearance, Kalani'opu'u possessed unmistakable charisma and "a countenance very expressive of conscious dignity and merit."
As Cook prepared to depart, he made a request that offended Hawaiian sensibilities. He asked to purchase the wooden fence surrounding the heiau for kindling, not recognizing its sacred significance. While the priest Koa allowed him to take the fence without payment, Cook's men also removed wooden statues of gods from the temple. Though some were returned when Koa requested them, this act was seen as sacrilegious by the Hawaiians, who watched in dismay as strangers dismantled their sacred space.
On February 4, the ships finally weighed anchor, with thousands of Hawaiians cheering their departure. The visit had been extraordinary but had clearly reached its natural conclusion. Cook planned to continue exploring the Hawaiian Islands before heading to Alaska, but fate intervened. On February 8, during a violent squall in the 'Alenuihaha Channel, the Resolution's foremast split. Cook had no choice but to return to the only safe anchorage he knew-Kealakekua Bay.
When the Resolution and Discovery returned to Kealakekua Bay on February 14, 1779, the Hawaiians were hostile and suspicious. After discovering the cutter had been stolen, Cook devised a plan to blockade the shore and kidnap King Kalani'opu'u as hostage.
As Cook and Lieutenant Phillips escorted the cooperative king toward the shore, hundreds of angry Hawaiians gathered, their fury triggered by Lieutenant Rickman killing an important chief. The king's wife begged him not to board, and two chiefs prevented him from proceeding.
Cook finally realized he couldn't force the king aboard "without killing a number of these people," but stubbornly refused to retreat. When attacked, Cook fired his flintlock, killing a Hawaiian-the first person he had ever killed. As more warriors advanced, Cook ordered the marines to open fire.
During a brief lull, Cook yelled "Take to the boats!" but inexplicably remained standing his ground. Lieutenant Phillips was struck by a stone and stabbed before shooting his attacker. Phillips managed to swim to the pinnace despite being struck in the head and rescued Private Jackson, who had been speared in the face.
Cook finally turned toward the pinnace, walking with a stately gait rather than running. At the water's edge, a Hawaiian struck him with a club to test if he was truly a god. When Cook groaned in pain, the crowd shouted, "He is no god. Let us kill him. He is only a man." Nu'a, the king's attendant, drove a pahoa dagger deep into Cook's neck. Cook collapsed into a tide pool where others held his face down while Nu'a repeatedly stabbed him.
Cook raised his head one last time, trying to yell to his men when "a fellow gave him a blow with a large club and he was seen alive no more." The scene was one of unbelievable slaughter-Cook, four marines, and as many as twenty Hawaiian warriors lay dead. The Hawaiians fell upon Cook's corpse in a frenzy, stabbing him repeatedly and dashing his head against the lava flats.
Hawaiian elders insisted that no part of Captain Cook was eaten, that cannibalism was abhorrent to their society, and that Cook's remains were treated with the same respect accorded to their most revered chiefs. In Hawaiian funereal traditions, bodies of important figures were burned and dismembered, with flesh scraped from the bones where the spiritual force (mana) resided. These bones would be distributed among high chiefs as powerful relics.
On February 21, Cook's funeral was held aboard the Resolution. With ships at half-mast and yards crossed, Clerke read from the Bible before the weighted coffin was lowered into the deep waters of Kealakekua Bay, followed by ten cannon shots. The expedition, now under Clerke's command, would continue to search for the Northwest Passage before finally returning to England in October 1780-completing what was then believed to be the longest exploratory voyage ever undertaken at 1,548 days.
Cook's legacy remains complex. For decades after Cook's death, Hawaiians at Kealakekua Bay wondered when Lono would return. Some of Cook's remains were kept in the local heiau, while others were "divided amongst the chiefs." Kamehameha the Great reportedly paraded a coffin containing Cook's bones during the annual Makahiki procession, as many believed they contained powerful mana.
When American missionaries arrived in the 1820s, they discouraged worship of traditional deities and portrayed Cook as a heretic. In the 1870s, the British erected a white obelisk near where Cook died, on land deeded to England by Princess Likelike for one dollar. The monument, which remains British soil maintained by the Royal Navy, has frequently been vandalized-when the author visited, it had been splashed with red paint and marked with the words "YOU ARE ON NATIVE LAND."
Cook's extraordinary achievements-mapping the Pacific, disproving the southern continent theory, discovering countless islands, and pioneering scurvy prevention-are now balanced against his role in initiating colonial processes that would devastate indigenous populations. His complex legacy continues to evolve, neither purely heroic nor villainous, but rather emblematic of the profound cultural collisions that would reshape the Pacific world forever.
