On the coast 200 km north of Cairns. In 1770 Captain Cook’s ship Endeavour came to grief on nearby Cape Tribulation (which might have been called something different if the crew had named it). Cook managed to sail his ship on as far as Cooktown, where he beached it for repairs.

Cook and his expedition were to remain here from June until August 1770. At the time it was the first British settlement on the continent of Australia, and certainly the loneliest European-inhabited spot on earth.

At one point during his stay, Captain Cook asked a local Aborigine the name of a strange long-legged beast which was hopping about in the undergrowth. The Aborigine replied laconically: ‘I don’t know’ – which in the local Aborigine tongue was ‘kangaroo’. Or so the story goes. Cook and his men found the Aborigines and their way of life utterly incomprehensible. According to Cook: ‘They seemed to set no value on anything we gave them.’

In the light of Cooktown’s later history, this is not difficult to understand. For a century after Cook’s visit the place remained deserted – apart from the local ‘I don’t knows’ and ‘We don’t cares.’ Then in 1873 gold was discovered in the hinterland 150 km to the south-west, at Palmer River. Cooktown quickly became  a  gold-rush port, attracting thousands of prospectors – especially from China. Within a year it was the second largest town in Queensland, with a population of more than 30,000. The main activities of this population can be judged from the fact that Cooktown at this time had almost 100 pubs and nearly as many bordellos. Riots became a regular feature, usually as a result of racial bigotry. (All comers vs. the Chinese.) But all good things must one day come to an end: the gold rush petered out within ten years, and everyone left to riot elsewhere.

For the next 100 years nothing happened. Which was very lucky, because at one point the British authorities became convinced that the Russians were going to invade this part of northern Australia. The military took immediate measures to counter this dire threat. An officer in charge of a cannon and three cannon balls was despatched to Cooktown to repulse any invasion force.

Today, the population of Cooktown is less than 2,500, there are only three pubs, no sign that I could detect of any Chinese bordellos, and no one can remember when they last had a proper riot. (Though during the Discovery Festival (www.cooktowndiscovery.com), which is held every June, they stage something pretty similar in the Bottom Pub on Charlotte Street.)

There are a number of low-key sights well worth a visit. The James Cook Museum (open 10 am to 4 pm weekdays, 9 am to 12.30 pm – 1 pm to 4 pm weekends, entry fee) is on the corner of Furneaux Street and Helen Street. This has plenty of bits and pieces from the brief interesting periods in Cooktown’s history – including some fascinating remnants from Captain Cook’s visit. The nearby Cooktown Maritime Museum (www.collectionsaustralia.net) is frankly a bit of a disappointment, especially when you consider how many great wrecks there have been along this stretch of coast over the years. (Apparently all the best bits have been pinched by larger museums, so it’s not really their fault.)

If you want a fine view, you can always climb up to the Grassy Hill Lighthouse, which is on the hill a kilo-metre or so north of the town centre.

The Cemetery, at the other end of town on Mclvor River – Cooktown Road, is a gem. This has the grave of Mary Watson (see Lizard Island) and a shrine dating from the old Chinatown days. It also has the tomb of a mysterious woman, apparently of northern European stock, who was found in the late 19thC living quite happily amongst a remote Aborigine tribe on Cape York peninsula. It’s thought she might have been a child who had survived a shipwreck and been adopted by the natives. Inevitably, some busybodies decided to rescue her ‘for her own good’. But the return to civilization proved so distressing that she died within a year.