Friday, September 30, 1960
Found north edge of reservoir just about 3 ft. north of big rock near wharf. Rained rest of day.
Saturday, October 1, 1960
Worked in same hole again and possibly found NW corner of reservoir exactly 7 ft. true east of half-buried rock near wharf.
Sunday, October 2, 1960
Worked on south end of beach in general area of SW corner of reservoir. Cleared an area off down to stones, but found only clay below. We have to go closer to the water, according to measurements [of earlier treasure hunters].
Monday, October 3, 1960
Rigged up sump pump so coupling won’t slip. Worked in hole at S end of cofferdam. Cleared off two areas for excavating. [The cofferdam consisted of the remains of a crescent-shaped stone wall built by earlier searchers to hold back the sea and permit them to examine the reservoir.]
Tuesday, October 4, 1960
Worked on beach but results were uncertain. Picked out centre of 242 ft. ends of old cofferdam and found sand in layers according to coarseness. Apparently water passing through sand in volume caused this.
Wednesday, Oct. 5, 1960
Worked on the beach. Found an area just inland of sandy area that has rocks like reservoir but mixed with clay and a layer of clay on top.
Thursday, Oct. 6, 1960
Made adaptor for heater. Fixed windshield of boat. Worked on beach and put in one long trench and two small holes towards wharf and one to the south. Apparently found reservoir about 10 ft. down from high tide.
Friday, Oct. 7, 1960
Locate approximate position [of reservoir] shown in old photo in booklet “Pirate Gold” by Freda. [They compared what they could see of the reservoir with a very old publication.] Worked on beach. Set up log dam with rocks and started to level off the area for a hole.
Saturday, Oct. 15, 1960
Chappell and Johnson, a treasure hunter negotiating for rights to work on another part of the Island, came to the Island. Work was shut down while they hashed things over and finalized an agreement. [This was one of the several occasions when Chappell granted rights to someone else to work on parts of the island while my dad’s contract was in force. Dad was to receive a percentage of any Johnson recovery.]
Tuesday, October 25, 1960
Storm last night was probably the worst since we came here. Completely filled 18’ shaft [on the beach], tore out the log dam in front of it. Ripped out stone dam and drove log dam back, and completely filled the hole we were working on. Went to Chester for machine work, etc. Pulled stakes, cleared debris and started digging again.
Work continued on the beach. On November 6 they found something significant. My brother Rick recorded his recollection of that discovery.
The 1704 Stone by Richard Restall
It was a beautiful day, and my mother and I went for a walk on the beach, near where my father and brother were digging a great many small holes in an effort to solve the mystery of the flooding Money Pit. The material from these excavations was loaded on a dumper suspended on a cable between two poles, which allowed dumping below the tidemark. The tide would wash away the lighter debris, leaving the stones. These stones ranged in size from that of an ostrich egg to that of a football, though they all tended to have at least one flat side.
It was early in our time on the Island, a happier time than what was to come, and both my mother and I were still enjoying this change from suburban Hamilton, Ontario. As an immature boy, I was mostly interested in the sea life that teemed in the tidal pools along the Smith’s Cove shore, and my mother was of course interested in seeing I didn’t pocket any aquatic life forms that would make her job, laundry, any more difficult than it already was in a wild overgrown place that hosted innumerable muddy holes old and new.
Something in a pile of freshly washed stones caught her eye, and she carefully pulled out a slate rock and tilted it under the afternoon sun.
“Oh, look at this. I wonder …”
It took a lot of squinting to see that the stone bore some chiseled characters. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but my mother thought “the men” should be informed.
I ran down the beach at her request, to tell my father that something of interest was at hand. It took so long for the two men to stop work that my mother had left the spot and was coming to them. A discussion ensued as to precisely where the stone had been, and a subsequent search revealed that this was the only number-bearing stone. My father and brother, at first annoyed that their work had been interrupted, both voiced the idea that this was some local’s idea of a joke. But as the days passed, the men began to think less that it was a practical joke, and more that the stone had some connection to the Island’s mystery.
What joker would leave the stone’s discovery to pure chance, buried in among countless other stones, under a deep layer of beach sand? The darkness of the carving indicated it had been buried for some time, and immersed as well, for as the stone dried out, the carving became lighter, so that in a few months it was easy to read in any light, “1704.”
N.B.: Beneath the beach sand there was a layer of coconut fiber over a layer of what was thought to be eel grass, though most of this was decomposing dark matter resembling black jelly. Under these was the layer of stones that fit together to form a paving layer.
The carving on the stone was later examined for authenticity. It was verified that both the seven and the four were carved in a style that was common in England in the year 1704. The stone itself was not sent for carbon dating or any other scientific testing because my parents had already learned that everything that left the island to be analyzed or authenticated never returned. They were determined that the stone would not meet the same fate. The 1704 stone is still in the family’s possession.
Here is another little piece Mom wrote that fall.
Culinary Delights by Mildred Restall
Fall was well underway. Although the days were fairly warm, the nights were getting quite cool. Too, the evenings were getting longer. I was beginning to find out how awkward this camp life was. Rick was no longer breezing through this school work, he was past the review stage and now really had to work at his lessons. I had to read ahead and make sure I was ready for each lesson. I thought we deserved a reward.
By this time, our daily fare was monotonous, so I decided the time had come for a change. Having to spend more time indoors with Ricky I thought to put it to good use by preparing more elaborate meals. Up to now we had only had stove-top meals. But now I wanted to start using the oven for foods like casseroles or cookies.
Along with the fridge, a huge monstrosity of a stove had been sent. It took up nearly the whole side of the room. It was an old relic but it had an oven. One day I decided to make some hot biscuits to accompany our stew, so I lit the oven. It had a thermometer, but no oven control dial, and the oven wasn’t insulated. As the temperature of the oven rose, so did the temperature of that small room. I opened one window, then the other, and finally the door, wide. Now the oven registered the 425 degrees I wanted. I lowered the flame and popped my biscuits in, and turned, as I heard a voice call out, “Why is the door open?” Bobby stood in the doorway. I started to explain, then thought of my biscuits. I saw the thermometer now registered over 500. I took the biscuits out and left the oven door open to cool a little. “What are these things,” asked Bobby, poking at the twelve black cinders. “Shut up,” I responded. Just then Bob Sr. came in; it was supper time. I popped the rest of the biscuits