H. M. BARK ENDEAVOUR
by Ray Parkin
Interestingly, the author was unable to find a suitable picture of Cook’s Endeavour to create a Christmas card. It was the spark that began a near three-decade journey of discovery, researching and eventually writing a life work, the definitive record of the amazing little vessel James Cook used for his 18th century exploration.
It’s not new, this compilation titled H. M. Bark Endeavour, the hardcover book and accompanying file of 15 drawings set in a slipcase, first published in 1997 in time for the bicentenary of white settlement and now in its third edition
Ray Parkin was a sailor who spent time as a prisoner of the Japanese in WW2. An artist, too, he embarked on his research, including all that had been written before, along with naval charts and plans of the time and, especially, the sketches done by young artist Sydney Parkinson, who accompanied Cook. From all of this, he was able to recreate the most complete record ever of ship, personnel and journey.
Indeed, the accuracy of detail in Parkinson’s line drawings allowed Parkin a chance to correct several misconceptions in earlier renditions of Endeavour, especially those devolving upon plans, appearance and layout. In many ways, while reading this work over the years (this is my third time around), I kept likening Parkin, Cook and Parkinson as kindred spirits, albeit a couple of hundred years apart.
It’s greatly difficult for a review to do justice to the level of work undertaken in establishing such an accurate picture - in both words and drawings - that allows a modern reader the opportunity to understand the triumph and the tragedy of exploration in such fraught times, but try one must.
The first third of the book relates to the acquisition of the Earl of Pembroke in 1768 and its conversion into H. M. Bark Endeavour. Carrying coal from Tyneside to the Thames, the ship was sturdy, had a good carrying capacity, and was thus considered well suited to adaptation for a journey to the South Seas.
In the second part, most of the remainder of the book, the author provides a detailed account of the 1770 voyage that is so important to all Australians, both black and white. The book itself is a near perfect example of historical writing, at times spare but ever evocative. One of its strengths is that Parkin does not make the error of so many others by putting words into the mouths of historical characters. He quotes direct from the ship’s log, and from Cook’s, Banks’ and Parkinson’s journals.
Despite myself (and, I have to accept, my advancing years), I found its reading a bit of a Boys’ Own adventure. This was especially so when, on Monday 11 June 1770, ship and crew came up on what would become forever known as Endeavour Reef. The subsequent adversity and how they managed to extricate themselves from what might have been a voyage-ending calamity is engrossing.
And then there are the drawings, the large scale ones sleeved with the book and those contained within its pages, and the maps. They are not only exemplary but capable of providing many hours’ study.
One of the top half-dozen works on my shelves, I can recommend H. M. Bark Endeavour as a most worthy read. A bit dearish for most, perhaps - although worth every penny from a research viewpoint - it’s a book I believe should be readily available through all State library systems.
RIP, Ray Parkin, 1910 - 2005, and thank you for the gift you gave.