Meet John Dikkenberg, captain of HMB Endeavour

John Dikkenberg on board Endeavour.

Meet John Dikkenberg, the new captain of HMB Endeavour, replica. John joined the museum about three weeks ago and it’s fantastic to have him on board. We caught up with John to find out more about his experience sailing tall ships and his new role as captain. If you have any questions for John, add them in the comments section of this blog and we’ll have them answered for you.

It’s great to have you on board as the new captain of Endeavour. Can you tell us about your experience at sea and on tall ships?

Most of my experience in tall ships comes from James Craig. I’ve been with that ship for about seven years, and been with her as master for about five years. I’ve been going to sea since the late 60s and in a previous life I was the captain of two Oberon class submarines and a River class destroyer.

Sail with Endeavour during the International Fleet Review

On 4 October it will be 100 years since the first Royal Australian Navy fleet arrived in Sydney. To mark the occasion, nine days of events are being planned called the International Fleet Review and best of all HMB Endeavour is taking part!

HMB Endeavour, replica looks majestic on Sydney Harbour

We will be one of the 11 Australian and 10 international tall ships sailing in company with about 40 warships from around the world as part of the celebrations. With the waters off Jervis Bay the final mustering point, the flotilla will enter Sydney Harbour on 3 October to kick off the International Fleet Review. What a magnificent sight it’s going to be, especially from the decks and the rigging of Endeavour.

Crew furling the sails

If you’re keen to be part of Endeavour’s paying voyage crew, head to our website to register your interest. Final details of the 10 or 12 day voyage are being confirmed, so we’ll keep you posted with all of the exciting developments.

We’ve also received word that tall ships Oosterschelde, Europa and Tecla from the Netherlands are already on their way to Australia, arriving in Fremantle from July 2013. Other ships coming are STS Lord Nelson from UK and Spirit of New Zealand.

I can almost see the sails filling and hear her cannon roar as Endeavour comes into with fleet, wouldn’t miss it for anything!

Vicki Northey
Endeavour project manager

Mrs Cook’s Valentine’s Day

On Valentine’s Day in 1779 Captain James Cook was killed in the Hawaiian Islands. Ironically perhaps, his death was the beginning of a long love affair with Cook by generations of people in the Western world who revered the great navigator. It was also the beginning of 56 long years for his wife Elizabeth Cook, without the love of her life.

When news of Cook’s death reached Britain the nation was deeply shocked. We can only imagine what his wife Elizabeth felt at the death of her husband of 17 years. Was the fact he died on Valentine’s Day a recurring wound for her?

Comparatively little is known of Elizabeth. She was born in 1741, the only child of Samuel and Mary Batts, who ran the Bell Alehouse at Execution Dock in Wapping. She was from a family of curriers (leatherworkers) and while not poor, like many women from the lower middle classes of the time, a naval officer with career prospects would have been a reasonable catch. In 1762 she married James Cook at St Margaret’s Church, Barking in 1762. Elizabeth was 21 and James 34 years old. As the eminent biographer of Cook J C Beaglehole put it, ‘it was a respectable rather than socially distinguished union.’

James’ cartographic and navigational skills saw his services in the Royal Navy in increasing demand. This of course meant many long periods at sea. Of their 17 years of marriage, James spent a total of only four years living with his wife.

While James’ career went from strength to strength, Elizabeth’s story is tinged with sadness.  When James was away on his ill-fated third voyage, Elizabeth had been busy embroidering a new waistcoat for him made from Tahitian tapa cloth he had brought back from his second voyage. She, and no doubt others, expected him on his return to be required to attend the Royal Court. The waistcoat remained unfinished.

Cook died at the age of 50, but Elizabeth reached the age of 94, surviving the death of her husband by some 56 years. She also outlived all of her six children. Three of them died in infancy, one from scarlet fever in his teens and two while serving in the Royal Navy. Nor were there any grandchildren to comfort her.

Elizabeth never remarried. She dressed in mourning black well after the accepted period of the time. Like many navy widows of the time, she cherished mementos of her husband. She carefully preserved items from her husband’s uniform, including his dress sword and shoe buckles. She continued to wear a cameo-style memorial ring and was wearing this in a portrait painted of her aged in her eighties.

She also kept a small, coffin-shaped, wooden ‘ditty box’ which held a tiny painting of Cook’s death and a lock of his hair. This little relic was carved by sailors on Cook’s last ship, HMS Resolution, as a keepsake for Mrs Cook.

While she lived in financial comfort with a pension provided by King George III and income received from the sale of books detailing Cook’s voyages, hers would have been a lonely family life until she died on 13 May 1835. Many of Elizabeth’s mementos of James were kept by her relatives and are now held in the State Library of NSW collection.

This embroidered map in the Australian National Maritime Museum collection is attributed to Elizabeth Cook. It depicts her husband’s three voyages to the Pacific and is decorated with floral sprigs. This intriguing mixture of navigational science and domestic arts seems to suture the schism between a love of service to empire and a love between two people.

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of the love between Elizabeth and James was that in later life she burned all the letters she had received from him. Considering his time spent at sea, there must have been many.  As time passed after James’s death Elizabeth would have known that with the great reverence of James around the world there would be strong public interest in the contents of their letters.

Should we call them love letters? Although occasionally prone to outbursts of ‘cold rage’ (usually directed at ‘troublesome Natives’ rather than his crew) Cook was generally circumspect and not prone to outbursts of emotion. Were there love letters among them? We shall never know. But the effect of this incineration was that any opportunity for historians to know more about ‘the man’ James Cook and the dutiful yet perhaps forlorn Elizabeth, were lost to years of hagiographical historiography attempting to flesh out the character of the great navigator James Cook.

Cooktown: The museum heads north for a week

It’s hot. And humid. But what else can you expect for far north Queensland in December? And it could have been worse – however, the southest trades were blowing across the hills on the coast, providing a margin of comfort across the town.

Cooktown from Grassy Hill, looking to the south west in the evening

Everyone drives a 4WD, but I was on foot, and in Cooktown to undertake a museum outreach project funded through a grant from the Maritime Museums of Australia Project Support Scheme (MMAPSS). My goal was to document and write a management plan for May-Belle, an iron flood boat and ferry from the gold-rush era of the late 1800s, and part of the James Cook Museum collection, expertly managed by Melanie Piddocke.

May Belle being measured

The real heat was on the Tuesday – with six hours spent in the tin shed annexe where the boat was stored, often down on hands and knees, or lying under the vessel. It was dusty, dirty and over 30 degrees even with the shutter doors open. Plenty of fluids kept things under control and by early afternoon, after an 8 am start, I had enough data recorded to retire to an air-conditioned room and draw out the elements from the dimensions taken, then give it a check. All good at the end the day, and dinner that night with Melanie and former council administrator Darcy Gallop, who retrieved the vessel in 1973, brought out some stories about the social side of the craft, which is now on the Australian Register of Historic Vessels, along with its close sisters up in Coen, even further north.

Cherry Tree Bay at 6 am

On Wednesday I began writing the report, putting together a comprehensive management plan about the vessel’s history, construction, current condition and how best to conserve, interpret and display the vessel. At lunch Melanie and I met Ian McRae from the regional council, who had overseen putting the Coen boat up for nomination. Ian is a keen supporter of heritage in the area and was about to let the Coen people know their craft had been recognised.

An indigenous outrigger canoe made in 2010

For Thursday Melanie had kindly organised a meeting with the Indigenous community in Hope Vale, 45 minutes inland. This is the successor to Hope Valley, formerly on Cape Bedford, which had been forcibly abandoned during World War 2. This incident is not well recognised and is one of a series of sad events that have overrun the Guugu Yimithirr community since the goldrush of the 1870s ‒ the event that brought the flood boats into being.

At Hope Vale I discussed the museum’s work and the experience of the conference Nawi – exploring Australia’s Indigenous watercraft, plus my own particular involvement with building nawi, and heard from them what they knew of their own outriggers. These are hollowed-out logs with a hunting platform at one end, and a single outrigger. Willie Gordon, a well-respected community member and acclaimed leader of tours into his country, was particularly interested. Later in the day renowned local artist Roy McIvor and his wife, Thelma, came by the museum to meet us, hear about the ANMM work and talk about their story too. It was a wonderful exchange, and if the ANMM can host another conference in the future we look forward to inviting more representatives from the Cooktown and Hope Vale area.

Endeavour river Cooktown, the site where Endeavour was beached for repairs.

As well as the work side there was time early in the mornings and late evenings to walk the coastline bush track, or take in the view from Grassy Hill, where James Cook had stood assessing his situation as Endeavour was being repaired on the shoreline below him in 1770. The James Cook Museum display talks about the community’s stories about this event, too; by 1770 they were accustomed to foreign ships, as Macassan traders been coming for trochus and beche-de-mer for probably 100 years or more before. The Macassans came and went, however, but this visitor in his big canoe did not just come and go in a short time, he stayed for a long time, but did manage to make contact. Both sides of the community, Indigenous and non-Indigenous, recognise the importance of this event. Two key artefacts reside in the museum, the anchor Endeavour lost and one of the cannon jettisoned to make the ship lighter. Through the dry season many tourists come to Cooktown to see these and learn more about the event that dramatically affected this community.

Endeavour anchor and cannon on display at James Cook Museum

This time last year Fremantle to Bunbury

This time last year Endeavour was down in Bunbury. On our arrival into Bunbury it was very wet and quite eventful to get the ship alongside as the rain hammered us and the wind blew us off. Below is an extract from last years blog.

‘The morning brings us a rollie sea and grey skies which is to be expected after a squally night. We start to approach towards Bunbury where we are required to pick up a local pilot to help us with our final approach to our berthing. The weather is taking a turn for the worst as the grey skies darken even more and the rain starts and then there is radio contact from the pilot to say that he is not comfortable getting on board in these conditions. So we follow the pilot boat into shallower and slightly more sheltered waters where he manages to board. Captain Ross tells me that it is quite likely that we actually won’t come alongside today due to the worsening weather and winds gusting over 30 knots, but we should at least have a look and give it a go.

The rain starts heavy but gets heavier and heavier to the point it is hard to see from the impact of the heavy drops on your face. We have some assistance from a lines boat to take the bow line ashore from there it is a case of very carefully judging the wind strength as we try and swing her port side into the wind and to gently sit on the wharf. It is much easier said than done, but it is well judged and done the less. The weight and pressure of the ship breaks the stern bollard freeing the stern line which is thankfully quickly rectified. It takes the crew a good hour of slowly tightening the lines to get the ship safe, but it will take us much longer to make sure she is safe and secure for the duration. It is time for us to say goodbye to our crew and although it has only be a five day voyage it just goes to prove that you shouldn’t underestimate the sense of adventure that can be had in a short period of time. Fair winds

All’s well.’

Happy Birthday Captain Cook!

On 27 October 1728, an extraordinary man was born, a man who became one of the greatest all time explorers. He was born in the small village of Marton, Yorkshire to a Scottish farm labourer who had a very modest income.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of his birthday and a time to reflect on all his achievements and discoveries. He was an exceptional navigator and surveyor which is why he was appointed for such a voyage, even though he had never had command of a vessel nor experience of a long sea voyage.

He sadly came to a savage death on his third voyage in Kealakekua Bay, Hawaii on 14 February 1779 where four of his marines, four native chiefs and thirteen commoners were also killed. He died at the age of 51.

There are discrepancies about his birthday either falling on 27 October or 7 November. Our curator Nigel wrote a fantastic blog last year, to clear this confusion and explain why there is a discrepancy in the dates.

An afternoon with HMB Endeavour

Antonio Ponto entertaining us all on board HMB Endeavour
Photographer Nicole Cama, ANMM

An overcast day on Sydney Harbour
Photographer Nicole Cama, ANMM

On a day-to-day basis our job is to research the collection, mainly working through the books and records that supply the stories of our objects and exhibitions. Uniquely at the museum, a large part of the collection sits in the water right outside our office window in the wharves. On Saturday, museum staff were treated to an afternoon harbour outing on board the replica HMB Endeavour. Even the miserable weather couldn’t dampen our spirits as we departed the North Wharf, canon firing (in the direction of an unsuspecting Sydney ferry) and winds blowing with a touch of rain. Somehow, these conditions added to the experience, giving us only the slightest hint of what things may have been like on board without Sydney’s renowned sunny weather.

Endeavour related nautical sayings

Endeavour is back in her home port where she will remain open to the general public as a museum. However there is much scuttlebutt that she will return to the high seas early next year. To keep up with all the latest information on Endeavour, including forthcoming sailing programs visit our website or like our new Endeavour facebook fan page.

The ship has now been open to the public for a month and our guides have been doing a great job in telling visitors about the life on board an 18^th century sailing ship. One of my favorite reactions is when people hear some of the origins of modern day sayings and expressions, so many of them derive from ships and this is often a surprise to many people.

I am going to write about a few sayings and their meanings that apply on board Endeavour or are said to have originated from such ships of this era.

The first is to have a ‘square meal’, which we commonly use as a phase as to eat a proper or substantial meal.  It is said to have derived from the British Navy from the 18^th century and prior, as serving plates were commonly square and not round.

Square serving plates

The next item is the ‘cat o’ nine tales’ where there are a few said phrases. ‘The cat o’ nine tails,’ is a style of whip that has nine plaited strands. It was used to whip and punish the sailors from the Royal Navy for such punishment as disobedience, mutinous talk or being drunk on duty. The sailor would receive usually twelve lashes, administrated by the boatswain. It was said to have been kept in a red baize bag and the reason it was red is that it wouldn’t show the blood.

Cat O’ Nine tails

So the first phrase is; ‘Letting the cat out of the bag’ which we now use as a phrase for someone having said something they shouldn’t or having revealed a secret. Whereas back then it referred to someone who had done something that would deserve punishment in the form of the ‘cat o’ nine tails’.

The next phrase is ‘Not enough room to swing a cat’ which today is used to describe a small crowded area or a small room. On board a ship it was used as down below there wouldn’t be the room to swing the ‘cat o’ nine tails’ and so the punishment was carried out on deck.

The final one for today is ‘scuttlebutt’ which we use to describe gossip or rumor. A scuttle butt was a cask where the sailors would get drinking water and an area where they would convene and talk and discuss matters out of ear reach.

All of the above sayings are ‘believed’ to have derived from nautical terms, but are not guaranteed. If you have heard a different origin for these expressions we would be keen to hear them. Or if you know of any other relevant expressions please let us know. I will run another blog in the near future with other nautical themed sayings.

All’s well

Endeavour re-opens to the public

HMB Endeavour replica will re-open to the public at the museum tomorrow, Saturday 23 June.

HMB Endeavour replica at museum

This is the first time visitors in Sydney will be able to board the ship since arriving back after an epic circumnavigation of Australia! The ship will continue to be open everyday at the museum.

We look forward to seeing you on board.

Day 14 Transit of Venus Sydney to Lord Howe

Night time cannon display

We are making good way but we still have quite a distance to cover before we arrive back into Sydney. The deck is occupied mainly by the on watch as the weather continues to drizzle and remains brisk. Other crew members are down below coming up with their sod’s opera performances for tonight final finale. The realism that is almost all over for the professional crew is starting to hit home, as Amy states that tonight will be her last galley duty and Nat the other day said that she had now stood her last 0000 –0400 watch. It is a sad, sad feeling even though we are all well and truly exhausted and almost craving just a little sense of normality, at least for two weeks while we plan our next crazy ventures.

The mess deck dinner is a slightly tricky one as we are serving under way with a fair roll and list. But it seems that we have got this service down to almost perfection, as the only casualties are the odd pea rolling off the plate. Dinner is as always delicious, with amazing rum and chocolate cheese cake.

Next it is the sod’s performances and well dare I say it there is the slight indication that this has been put together on the 11^th hour, either that or that the double pay has gone straight to the sailors heads making them intoxicated and mumble their words to their performances. I would just like to thank the queen on that note for her birthday and the double pay. I enjoyed the foremast parody although I am still a little confused….

After the evening’s entertainment it is time for the cats to be tickled, we have to keep up a constant speed of 5.5 – 6 knots to get us into Sydney in time.

The morning brings the sight of Sydney heads and the Sydney skyline on the horizon, we are almost home. At 0900 it is all hands to hand the sails for the last time and for the watches to go aloft and furl the sails for the last time in what will be a long time.

Helming us home

To think that this will be the last few miles that we will undertake together as the Endeavour crew is pretty emotional, we have travelled a very long way together and I don’t just mean the nautical miles. 18^th century sailing is exhausting, dirty, and strenuous, at times has you on the line of your own personal capabilities, but we wouldn’t change a single aspect of this, it just makes you feel you’re alive. The amount of voyage crew that have joined us over the last 13 months just goes to show the spirit of adventure is kept alive and although we are all a lot more softer than those 18^th century sailors, we have proven that you don’t need the conveniences of the 21^st century to make you happy, just the wind and sails above your head.

This will be my last blog on Endeavour and for once I am struggling for words…. Where every great adventure ends, a new one begins. Thank you for reading the blog over the last 13 months and I hope that it has given you an insight into the highs and lows of the 21^st century sailor trying to relive the experience of an 18^th century sailor. My only advise is next time round instead of sitting at home reading the blog, you should be helping write the experience on board.

Huzzah to all those involved

Fair winds and following seas.

All’s well.

Fond farewells