John Derbyshire recently visited the “pleasantly inaccessible” monument to Captain Cook on the western side of Kealakekua Bay, on the big island of Hawaii:
I can’t claim any real familiarity with Cook, never having even read a full biography, but I long ago absorbed the sentiment, universal among his countrymen, that he was what Bertie Wooster would have called a very good egg. My 1911 Britannica concurs: “Along with a commanding personal presence, and with sagacity, decision and perseverance quite extraordinary, went other qualities not less useful to his work. He won the affection of those who served under him by sympathy, kindness and unselfish care of others as noteworthy as his gifts of intellect.”Cook was clubbed and/or speared to death on this remote, lovely spot on the morning of St. Valentine’s Day, 1779. He was leading a shore party in an attempt to capture the local ruler, to hold him hostage for the return of a stolen longboat. After killing Cook, the Hawaiians dragged his body away. Only fragmentary remains were ever recovered. Modern Hawaiians insist that Cook was not eaten. You can believe that if you want to.