Member-only story
True Story
Existential Meltdowns at the Captain Cook Tavern
Finding clarity in drunken debauchery
In the golden days of Dunedin student life, on the corner of Albany and Great King Streets, the longest-running bar in Dunedin stood in a grey brick building. The Captain Cook Tavern was a reliable choice for local students — Scarfies, as they are often called because of the scarves they wear in the frigid temperatures — who were looking to get completely wasted on any day of the week. We lovingly called it The Cook for short.
The Cook was a landmark and a historical site, to say the least. It is my belief that it had been in operation for over 100 years just like the university’s Capping Show and its all-male Selwyn Ballet. My professors drank there when they were students. There was no one in the vicinity who wasn’t very familiar with its establishment and culture. I took my parents there on my graduation day because it was such an important part of my life at Otago.
It was especially popular among the first-year students, meaning that at night, it was generally filled to the brim with eighteen-year-olds and nothing else. Inside The Cook, you could lose not just your dignity, but your very humanity. That kind of thing is pretty fun for the youngsters.
