On This Day in 1770 – Cook Claims Australia

A single flag marked the beginning of centuries of conflict, discovery, and dispossession.

Origins of an Empire in the Sand

On August 22nd, 1770, Lieutenant James Cook stood atop a mound on what he named Possession Island, raised a British flag, and claimed an entire continent for the Crown. At that moment, he could not have known that the ceremony, brief as it was, would reverberate across centuries and continents. It was a claim rooted in ambition and empire, launched on the premise of scientific discovery but driven by geopolitical purpose. The man who charted solar eclipses and navigated uncharted reefs ended up drawing lines that would shape the modern world.

What began as a Pacific voyage to measure the transit of Venus morphed into an assertion of ownership over territories already inhabited, governed, and understood by others. Cook’s journey represents both the brilliance of exploration and the burden of colonialism, a paradox suspended in one symbolic act, planting a flag in foreign soil.

The Mind of a Cartographer, The Mission of a Soldier

Cook was not a rogue agent. He was methodical, disciplined, and loyal to orders. After his success mapping the Gulf of St. Lawrence and guiding British ships to decisive victories in Canada, he became a dependable instrument of the Admiralty. His precision as a surveyor made him the obvious choice to lead an expedition halfway across the world. Yet, this voyage would prove far more than an astronomical mission.

When he opened the sealed envelope containing his second set of orders, only to be read after observing Venus from Tahiti, Cook discovered his true purpose: find the fabled Terra Australis Incognita and claim it for Britain.

He followed those instructions to the letter. New Zealand, once thought to be part of a larger southern landmass, was surveyed and charted in painstaking detail. But it was when the Endeavour turned west, made landfall, and began tracing the vast eastern coastline of Australia that history bent under the weight of European ambition.

First Contact and Silent Resistance

Cook’s first encounter with Aboriginal people was brief and violent. As his landing party approached the beach, two men stood firm. A warning shot was fired. Stones were thrown in reply. Eventually, one man was wounded, and only then did they retreat. The beach was cleared, the Union Jack unfurled, and with no formal negotiation, Cook claimed what he saw for King and country.

To the British eye, the land was empty. To the Aboriginal people, it was alive, spiritual, and ancient beyond comprehension. Cook, ever the observer, noted the biodiversity: kangaroos, exotic plants, and crocodiles, but he did not see the culture, the complexity, or the claim of those already present. His maps would later guide settlers and soldiers, missionaries and merchants, but they would also erase names, displace communities, and reframe the landscape as British.

Legacy Drenched in Discovery and Displacement

There’s no question that Cook was a man of genius. His charts of the Great Barrier Reef were so precise they remained in use well into the 20th century. His crew survived conditions that killed many others. His leadership during the Endeavour’s grounding on the reef saved lives and salvaged a mission. His curiosity about the natural world led him to pause for eclipses, to record the position of stars, and to sketch coastlines never before charted by Europeans.

But brilliance does not absolve consequences. The settlers who followed the trails he mapped brought diseases, dispossession, and destruction. Aboriginal Australians faced violence and the dismantling of their culture. The myth of Terra Australis gave way to the reality of British colonisation, and with it came a centuries-long wound still being reckoned with today.

Cook did not cause this alone. But he lit the fuse. And he did so with measured intent, standing on Possession Island, surrounded by ocean, watched only by his crew and the ghosts of the people he had just dispossessed.

Closing the Map, Opening the Wound

Cook's voyage ended not in Australia, but in Hawaii, where he was killed in a skirmish with locals in 1779. By then, he was already celebrated back home as a hero of empire and exploration. Statues would follow. So would schools, streets, and stamps bearing his name.

But perhaps it is the date, more than the man, that should endure. August 22nd marks the moment one world collided with another. Not with treaties or trade, but with the unfurling of a flag and the writing of a name on someone else’s map.

In my view, this day should not be remembered for the flag alone, but for the foot it planted on land that was never Britain’s to claim.