In mid-February 1779, as Mark Twain would later learn, three Hawaiian children discovered what they thought was a dog’s heart hanging in a hut and ate it. But they were mistaken; this was no dog’s heart. It belonged to a man whom Indigenous Hawaiians had deified as their god—Lono. In a swift and shocking turn, reverence soon gave way to violence, and a native warrior plunged a dagger into Lono’s neck. That’s how Captain James Cook—the renowned British naval officer, explorer, and cartographer—met his end, tragically concluding his third and final voyage. 

 A Captivating, Cinematic Read 

In The Wide Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook, American historian Hampton Sides offers a riveting  account of Cook’s final expedition, unravelling the dramatic events that culminated in his death at the hands of Indigenous Hawaiians on the shores of Kealakekua Bay, on Hawai‘i’s Big Island.

Sides draws from a vast array of sources, including “antique documents”—journals, logs, and writings by Cook, and his fellow voyagers—as well as official records and secret documents published without the British government’s permission. The result is a rich, multi-dimensional story that not only illuminates Cook’s character and ambitions but also explores the complex dynamics between European colonists and Indigenous societies.

Renowned for his gripping storytelling in acclaimed works like Ghost Soldiers, Blood and Thunder, Hellhound on his Trail, Sides’ evocative style once again captivates. He masterfully transforms historical events into vivid, immersive narratives that are as deeply informative as they are irresistibly engaging—a truly cinematic experience that holds readers from start to finish. 

What distinguishes The Wide Wide Sea is its inclusion of Indigenous perspectives. By weaving in oral histories, Sides brings Indigenous voices to life, offering readers a multi-layered view of the complex events leading to Cook’s tragic death—and much more.

Chasing a Chimera  

Captain Cook’s first scientific voyage to the South Pacific Ocean (1768-1771) proved successful, but it was the second (1772-1775)—in search of the mythical Terra Australis—that catapulted him to fame. In 1776, the Admiralty dispatched Cook once more, ostensibly to return Mai—a Polynesian man who had become a living exhibit in England—to his home in Tahiti and to claim new lands for the British crown on the way. But the voyage’s true purpose was far more strategic: to find the Northwest Passage, a fabled waterway through the icy labyrinth of North America to the Atlantic.  

Cook’s ships, Resolution and Discovery, embarked on what would become his final—and  most perilous—mission. By late 1776, the expedition had reached Cape Town, a vital stopover on their journey. From there, they sailed onward, arriving in Tasmania by January. Here, Cook and his crew encountered the Palawa Indigenous people. Tragically, this meeting foreshadowed a grim fate. “Within a century of Cook’s arrival, the Palawa were nearly an extinct race,” writes Sides, noting that European diseases and violence exterminated their population. “English settlers would hunt down the Palawa like animals, sometimes shooting them just for sport.” 

Cook pressed on, exploring a string of Pacific islands. The expedition charted the shores of Aotearoa (New Zealand) before moving through the tropical paradises of Tonga, Tahiti, Mo’orea, Huahine, Raiatea, Bora Bora, and Kiritimati. Each new land added to Cook’s growing reputation as a master navigator, though his voyages left a complex and often devastating legacy in their wake.

In January 1778, Cook’s men made a historic landfall on Kaua’i, becoming the first Europeans to “discover” the Hawaiian Islands. The ships navigated northward, charting the rugged Oregon coast and braving the frigid waters of Alaska. There, Cook relentlessly hunted the elusive Northwest Passage, pushing into uncharted territory and venturing farther north than most would have dared.

By August, the Arctic ice brought Cook’s progress to a grinding halt at a desolate spot now known as Cape Schmidt, along the icy fringes of Russia’s Far East. Determined to find the Northwest Passage, he resolved to winter in the Pacific and return to Alaska the following spring for another daring attempt.

A Returning God 

In January 1779, Cook’s ships sailed into Kealakekua Bay at the height of Makahiki, a sacred festival honouring the Hawaiian god Lono—the deity of music, rain, spear-throwing, and lovemaking. The timing was uncanny: local legend foretold Lono’s return, and Cook’s arrival—his billowing sails and towering masts—seemed to fulfil the prophecy. To the Hawaiians, Cook appeared as Lono incarnate.

The reception was lavish. The natives offered their finest, treating the Europeans like divine guests. For Cook’s weary crew, the island felt like a paradise. “[T]he sex was rampant—on the ships, on the beach, and farther inland,” writes Sides, capturing the hedonistic abandon of the moment. The native women sought nothing in return, though a simple metal button or nail was a cherished token of appreciation.

When the Makahiki festival ended, marking the close of Lono’s season, Cook still lingered on the island. The Hawaiians grew uneasy, as the Europeans had disrupted sacred customs, trampling on centuries-old traditions with their “sacrilegious depredations.” By early February, Cook’s ships finally set sail, and thousands of Hawaiians cheered, waving white cloth in a ceremonial farewell to their god-figure, Lono. But bad weather soon forced Cook back to Kealakekua Bay, leaving the islanders bewildered. “The people couldn’t understand why Lono had returned so soon. He was out of sync; it wasn’t his season anymore,” writes Sides.

Frustrations boiled over, reaching a breaking point when the Hawaiians stole one of Cook’s boats. In a fatal miscalculation, Cook attempted to kidnap Hawaiian king Kalani?ōpu?u, who was revered as a god. The natives resisted fiercely. Cook fired his musket, killing one, which provoked a violent response. Stones rained down, and Cook’s men retaliated by gunning down several warriors. As the situation spiralled, Cook shouted, “Take to the boats!” but failed to follow his own command. Stranded onshore, his fate was sealed. The king’s attendant, Nu‘a, leapt onto Cook’s back, “riding him like a doomed animal… Nu‘a drove the dagger deep into Cook’s neck,” writes Sides.   

“The fatal impact”

The Hawaiians bore the brunt of the conflict’s aftermath. In the chaos following Cook’s death, his crew unleashed a savage rampage. They set fire to scores of thatched huts, shooting anyone who tried to flee. Those who remained inside were ruthlessly impaled. Some sailors even decapitated their victims, mounting the severed heads on poles as grotesque “trophies of their vile victory.”

When news of Cook’s death reached London, it sent shockwaves across the nation. The Lords of Admiralty were devastated, and King George III wept. Cook was swiftly immortalized as “the ablest and most renowned navigator” in history. Meanwhile, the Hawaiians were demonized as “savages,” with lurid rumours claiming that they had eaten Cook’s heart. Hawaiian elders have long refuted such claims, insisting that Cook’s remains were treated with the same honour and reverence reserved for their most esteemed chiefs. 

By 1820, missionaries had arrived in Hawai‘i, spreading Christianity and urging the natives to forsake Lono and other deities. After the Civil War, Mark Twain visited Kealakekua Bay, where he spoke with locals and examined the circumstances surrounding Cook’s death. His verdict? It was a “justifiable homicide.”

In recent years, Captain James Cook has come to represent the face of colonialism for many Indigenous communities across the Pacific. Though Cook himself was neither conqueror nor colonizer, the maps and charts he created and the lands he “discovered” opened the door for waves of European colonists, dangerous pathogens, and missionaries—leaving deep scars on Indigenous societies. Once celebrated as noble quests for knowledge, Cook’s voyages are now the subject of heated debate—especially in Polynesia, where they are seen as the beginning of a systematic annihilation of traditional island cultures—a legacy historian Alan Moorhead referred to as “the fatal impact.”    

The Wide Wide Sea delivers a thoughtful, even-handed portrayal of Captain Cook. By presenting diverse viewpoints, it invites readers to reflect deeply on the explorer’s complex legacy. With vivid details and Side’s hallmark storytelling, the book transports readers to the age of sail, immersing them in a haunting tale of exploration, colonial ambition, and cultural clash—one that lingers long after the final page is turned.

Ajay Saini teaches at the Indian Institute of Technology Delhi. He works with remote Indigenous communities.