The tour book boldly proclaimed the landing site for Captain Cook was “located in the Lucy Wright Park and just across the Waimea River from Russian Fort Elizabeth.” Still, as we cruised through Waimea Town, our attention was drawn instead to the ridge where a couple of magnificent homes were perched on a bluff overlooking the most breathtaking panoramic view of the coast. As my husband made a right turn where the road steeply grades, we began the ascent of exploration. “What about Captain Cook?”, I inquired. “We can see him from up here,” he explained matter-of-factly. Now I’m not a fan of heights, let alone a winding two-lane road without a shoulder. It’s at times like these, where the view outside the passenger side window drops several hundred yards into the craggy canyon, that I get a little squeamish and lean toward the middle of the car. Don’t worry, I can still see the view of the town below at the ocean’s doorstep spreading exquisitely across the horizon.

Further north on Highway 50, we pulled over at a Lookout Point chosen by five other vehicles. As we grabbed the binoculars, the overcast skies released a light mist. Through the lenses a razor sharp image of muted canyon walls came clearly into focus. Murmurs of awe and steps of bravery set the stage for photogenic backdrops. One Asian man stood dangerously close to the edge coaxing his petite wife in Chinese to join him for the optimal extreme snapshot. Her gentle demeanor would have no part of it as she timidly took a step behind me. The more he cajoled, the more firmly her feet lodged into place. Finally exasperated, he struck a Superman-like stance and hammed it up for the camera. Then making peace with his elegant wife, he found an impervious point for immortalizing the moment. Minutes later, we did the same. Now where is Captain Cook?