OVER THE NEXT WEEKS, ALTHOUGH THEY were usually in sight of the various islands of the archipelago, no one set foot on land. The islands they sailed past were called—they learned from the native men who came aboard the ships—O-why-hee, Oh-a-hoo and Molo-kayee. The most impressive of these was O-why-hee. It was enormous. And when the clouds above this island parted one morning they were astonished to see that its summit was white. ‘Snow!’ exclaimed King. ‘At the latitude of twenty degrees!’
Canoes came out to the ships regularly, and whenever they did, a brisk trade in pig meat, fresh fruit, sweet potatoes and sugar cane followed. The men in the canoes told them that the great mountain they could see was called Mauna Kea.
In late November, while they were still off the east coast of O-whyhee, its paramount chief was brought out to the ship. The Resolutions had been told that Kalani’opu’u was renowned as a great warrior. He was also the avowed enemy of Mow-wee’s leader, Kahekili. But when he came aboard, they did not think Kalani’opu’u looked the part. He was elderly, with bloodshot eyes, scaly white skin and palsied hands. ‘Probably the result of habitual kava drinking,’ Law observed. ‘I saw others with those symptoms in the Friendly Isles.’
Kalani’opu’u greeted Resolution’s company cordially and presented James with his distinctive helmet and feather cloak. The name for such a helmet was mahiole, he said. Made of woven fibre, the finely crafted helmet had a high narrow crest with rows of yellow and black feathers stitched to it. ‘Mauruuru,’ said James, lapsing into Otaheitian in his gratitude. Kalani’opu’u grinned, understanding. James then withdrew his hanger from its scabbard on his belt and presented it to the chief. Kalani’opu’u tested its sharp tip against his palm appreciatively. ‘Maholo nui loa.’ Thank you so much.
With the winds coming mainly from the north-east, the islands’ eastern coasts were exposed. Suitable anchorages could not be found. James made his running surveys and all aboard the ships admired the huge mountains and precipitous cliffs of the islands they passed. But by December the winds had become unfavourable, north-easterly gales forcing them to stand well off from the shore. In this weather the sloops became separated for nearly two weeks.
They were taking a beating, too. After more of Resolution’s bolt-ropes parted in a gale, she had insufficient canvas to enable her to sail safely off a lee shore. For the hundredth time James cursed the naval-yard contractors after Bligh showed him yet another piece of parted cordage or torn canvas. Equally frustrated, Bligh uttered his own expletives.
A water shortage on Discovery was also becoming dire, Clerke reported when he came across to Resolution. ‘And in the heat the boards are shrinking. After I ordered the upper decks swabbed, the water poured through the cracks to the deck below. This also happens when it rains.’ His expression was grim. ‘The top deck urgently needs recaulking.’
They needed to make landfall, desperately. But where?
Six days before Christmas, Resolution was blown by gale-force winds close to the easternmost point of O-why-hee. The wind then dropped and a powerful current took them to within half a league of a rocky shore pounded by enormous waves. When a squall struck the ship, rending her topsail and the main topgallant, Bligh and the helmsmen were only just able to beat Resolution off from the rocks.
In contrast, Clerke had kept Discovery well off from the shore and out of danger. When the storm had passed he signalled that he needed to come across to Resolution to talk.
The two commanders met in the Great Cabin. James’s servant brought them coffees, which they sipped under the seal-oil lamp hanging above the table.
As they talked, Clerke felt concern at James’s weary, burdened appearance. At the same time, James had similar thoughts about his fellow commander. The once-dashing Clerke was now gaunt and ashen. His constant companion was the handkerchief he held over his mouth when he coughed.
Clerke set his coffee mug down. ‘Our need to go ashore is urgent, sir.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ James snapped. ‘But I’ve seen no shore in these islands that looks in the least suitable for an anchorage.’
Peering through the larboard window, Clerke said, ‘Since the prevailing winds are from the north-east, the west coast of O-whyhee will offer shelter.’
James nodded. ‘I’ll set a course for the west coast. But we’ll first need to double the southern cape of the island.’
‘Yes.’ Clerke paused, then added, ‘The men are all sorely in need of recreation.’
James looked at him sharply. ‘Do you mean of the carnal sort?’
Clerke smiled. ‘No doubt that will be their interpretation.’ His breathing was laboured. Regaining breath, he said, ‘Do you remember the book you gave me when I was languishing in prison?’
‘I do. It was Bougainville’s account of his world circumnavigation.’
‘That’s it. I’ve been reading it again. His descriptions of Otaheite make entertaining reading. All that sensuality. The Frenchman thought it paradisiacal. He called the island New Cythera.’
James snorted. ‘Yes. After being there only ten days. And knowing nothing of the bloody civil war that was brewing on the other side of the island at that very time.’ He swallowed more coffee. ‘New Cythera was a foolish name to bestow on Otaheite. Blood must have rushed to Bougainville’s head.’
‘As well as to other parts of his anatomy.’
James smiled in spite of himself. Then he became serious again. ‘It distresses me greatly that we have introduced the venereals to these islands. Those men who showed us their diseased private parts … nothing in this part of the world has shocked me quite as much as that.’
‘Not even the cannibalism in New Zealand? Or the human sacrifices in Otaheite?’
James shook his head. ‘No. Those are customs indigenous to the South Sea. The introduction of the venereals is entirely our responsibility.’
‘So after we find an anchorage, you will still forbid any infected men from going ashore?’
‘I will.’
‘Very well. I’ll get Samwell to examine my men too and issue the same order to any who show similar symptoms.’ Clerke stood up, and immediately the hacking cough started again. He recovered, then said huskily, ‘I must return to my ship.’ He stared into his kerchief. ‘Let’s hope we find a suitable anchorage, and soon.’
It was just before midnight on Christmas Eve when they witnessed a startling phenomenon. They were two leagues off O-why-hee’s south coast and there was a crescent moon. In the coast’s pitch blackness they saw an orange glow and a gigantic column of the same colour bursting from the island. The glowing pillar rose and rose, then exploded, shooting fiery traces through the blackness, lighting up the sky like a giant firework.
‘A detonating volcano,’ King said in awe, standing alongside James.
‘Yes. And so close to the sea.’ He put his scope to his eye. ‘The lava is actually flowing into it.’
Others came up from below to see the sight and exclaimed at the volcano’s radiance and power. Millions of sparks flew from its plume, and the stark contrast between the sky’s velvet blackness and the incandescence of the lava was hypnotic. Where the lava river met the water it was exploding, sending detonations across the sea to the ships. ‘Molten rock and seawater: a volatile combination,’ King mused.
As James and King stared at the extraordinary sight, Gore joined them on the quarterdeck, a mug of brandy in his hand. Eyes fixed on the fiery orange river, he raised his glass to the volcano. ‘Merry Christmas, gentlemen.’
After arduously doubling the cape at the southern end of O-why-hee, then tacking for 10 more days, the sloops were worked slowly along the island’s west coast. On the first day of January they celebrated the New Year, 1779, with a luncheon of roast pork, sweet potatoes and sauerkraut.
Over glasses of port wine, James proposed a toast. ‘Gentlemen, to our sovereign King George, and to next year in Hudson Bay!’
The others raised their glasses and drank. Their thoughts were identically sombre: But first, through the freezing Arctic Ocean and its menacing ice mountains.
At dawn on 16 January they espied a wide bay to starboard. About a mile across, it had low headlands at its northern and southern ends, both covered in coconut palms. As the helmsmen guided the ship towards the more sheltered northern headland, those at the rail could see that it was a black shelf of lava. Waves slopped against it and shot fountains of spray into the air. There were clusters of huts among the palms, and outrigger canoes drawn up on the shores of the bay.
A huge cliff face of coarse, purplish rock, pocked with cave openings, soared from the sea near the northern end of the bay. Within the bay itself waves lapped at a rocky shoreline, while above the foreshore the land swelled steeply upwards then vanished into a blanket of grey cloud. They could see a patchwork of crops and more palms growing across the steep slope before it reached the cloud cover.
James and Gore stood side-by-side on the mainmast platform, observing the bay and the terrain above it through their scopes. ‘A likely anchorage,’ James said.
Gore nodded. ‘Sheltered, certainly.’
‘Yes. Tell Bligh to hoist the launch and take soundings.’
Both men descended to the deck. While Gore and Bligh supervised the launching of the boat, King joined James on the quarterdeck. Putting his scope to his eye, he focused on the precipitous cliff and the land rising above the bay. He said quietly, ‘The caves in that cliff resemble the eye sockets of skulls. They give this place a sinister appearance.’
James grunted. ‘That statement resembles sailorly superstition to me, King.’
The officer made no reply, but kept staring towards the huge cliff, his frown deepening.
Bligh and Discovery’s master, Edgar, were sent out in the launch and sounded a sandy bottom at 14 fathoms. Good holding ground, Bligh reported. Eminently suitable, James decided, and he ordered Resolution hove to at the northern end of the bay and her anchors lowered. After Discovery was signalled, Clerke gave the same order and the sister vessel anchored only 200 yards away. The air was still and sultry, the water of the bay so clear they could see manta rays gliding through it, waving their great wings as they went.
Yet the sloops’ anchors had barely settled when they witnessed a spectacle the like of which none of them had ever seen before.