“The concept was not without merit. The coastline between Cape Fear and Cape Lookout has been the final resting spot of countless ships. There are hundreds of known wrecks here and there is plenty of documentation to support claims of sunken treasure. Amongst those claims is the well documented story of the sinking of four out of five Spanish ships in August of 1750. The five ships made up a Spanish flotilla that left Havana en route to Spain, carrying gold and silver from Mexico. The Spaniards were meticulous record keepers and the treasure was carefully documented in the manifest. All five ships ran aground along the Carolina coast during a mid-August hurricane. One of the ships, however, was able to free itself and survive. The rest of the flotilla sank.
“Jacobs claimed he had discovered a ship, buried in forty feet of sand, thirty or thirty five feet below sea level. He claimed to be able to determine both the bow and the stern of the vessel, the contents of gold and silver and masses of iron which were probably the anchor, its heavy chain and the cannons. Although excavating it would be a mammoth task, if he could bring up the treasure, the rewards would be phenomenal. I suppose it is fair to say that following the crash of 29, there were wealthy individuals who were looking for alternative places to invest their capital rather than a flakey stock market that few trusted. The lure of sunken treasure has motivated countless expeditions around the world so there was nothing particularly unique in this proposal.
“A company was formed and salvage rights were secured by Edward J Ives, a salvage expert from Connecticut. Between 1937 and 1941 a rough camp was built, a steam shovel was brought in by barge and the land was cleared. The site required significant advance work because it was covered with tree stumps, the remnants of hundred and fifty year old pine trees that had been harvested. This was taken as a sign that the wreck must be at least three hundred years old to account for the sand dune that had built up covering the wreck and then the growth of the trees on top of it. After digging only a few feet, the crew hit water. A cofferdam was built and a shaft sunk about twenty five feet deep. Apparently a piece of hand-crafted wood floated to the surface and was considered to be proof of a shipwreck below.
“Remember, at the time, all this took place on a desolate beach, on an island that had few to zero permanent residents. Just getting to the site was a chore. All supplies and materials had to be shipped in by barge. The only previous inhabitants were Indians, fishermen … and pirates.
“The work continued for a few years and employed a number of locals from the mainland. The workers were well satisfied to have any job while the country suffered so badly. It didn’t matter to them that they were digging a deep hole inside a coffer dam. It was work and the men were paid on a regular basis. In 39, the local newspaper in Wilmington wrote a story about the excavation. It was filled with ample talk about sunken treasure that captured the imagination of its readers. The paper showed pictures of the cofferdam and interviewed Jacobs who was optimistic about the venture.
“Blackbeard did not fit into the newspaper story immediately, but like any legend, the story evolved with time. Today, most people think of the project as the search for Blackbeard’s treasure.
“Then, in 1941, without warning, despite having spent between fifteen and twenty thousand dollars by local estimates, a small fortune at the time, the workers were paid in full and laid off. The next morning the site was vacant, the bosses having vanished over night.
There were three versions as to what had happened. The first was that the expedition had run out of either money or willpower and had simply given up. The second version claimed that the expedition found the treasure and the bosses brought it up to the surface themselves, then made off with their booty in the night. The third version, perhaps the most popular one, was that a good deal of investment capital still remained unspent and the partners scooped the cash and ran. Remember, this was 1941. The war in Europe had been going on for two years and Americans were heavily involved. After Pearl Harbor, I doubt that anyone would have given a passing thought to an abandoned treasure hunt, on a desolate island in North Carolina.”
Cynthia leaned back in her chair and her hand reached out lazily for her drink that was now the same temperature as the air.
Langdon was perplexed. The story ended so abruptly. What possible connection could it have to an old woman running out of gas in her boat, seventy years later. He searched Cynthia’s face looking for a clue. He was beginning to wonder if she was a few cards short of a full deck. She was simply staring across the open sea, obviously lost in her own private thoughts. After a few moments he decided on a direct approach but out of respect he tried to be as gentle as possible.
“Cynthia, the second part of the story was fascinating but I’m at a loss. What does this have to do with you being out here today? You said something had frightened you?”
It took a few seconds but Cynthia’s eyes finally cleared and she looked directly at Langdon.
“I’m sorry ….. I just had a strange feeling as if I was sitting here, talking with my husband. I told you he died recently.”
“Yes. You said that.” Langdon was now seriously questioning Cynthia’s stability but after a brief pause she continued dreamily.
“The Gold Hole, that’s what they called the excavation. It was always such a large part of our lives. Oh not in any real sense, of course. It was like holding onto a lottery ticket for months before you got around to checking the numbers. As long as you kept that unverified ticket, you had hope. We never really believed in the Gold Hole but somehow it was always there to buoy up our spirits when things got tough. We never even cut the grass around it, but it was there.”
Langdon thought he was losing her again but Cynthia made a swift recovery.
“I guess I never told you that I own the Gold Hole, did I?”
Langdon’s face remained rigid. He had been in enough tricky situations and played enough poker that he was confident his chin didn’t drop.
“No. You didn’t mention that.” Langdon took a moment to regroup. “I’m still at a loss. What frightened you that caused you to rush out the inlet in a boat with empty gas tanks?”
“Oh it was probably nothing. Nothing at all. I heard a crash outside but it could have just been a dump truck. There is a lot of construction going on. I probably should sell the house … and the Gold Hole.” Cynthia smiled. “I already said I should sell the boat. You can vouch for that. It’s sometimes a bit overwhelming since Bob died. I certainly wouldn’t be the only widow in the new condos they are building, would I?”
“Is that what you plan to do, sell your home and move into a condo?” asked Langdon.
“Not really … but it might make sense. Bob wanted me to be secure, so before he died he sold off the acreage we had to a handsome young developer from Florida. We got a fair price and I certainly have enough to live in the house for the rest of my life. The young man is working hard building the roads for a subdivision but the bottom has fallen out of the economy and I’m sure that has him troubled. There have been a couple of accidents on the property. It just makes me jumpy sometimes. I heard a crash today and panicked.”
“Do you think this young developer is trying to scare you off? asked Langdon.
“Wendell? No! Of course not! He’s a very nice young man. Bob liked him from the start. I think that’s why he sold the property to him and not to someone else.”
“You said you owned the Gold Hole. Didn’t this Wendell buy it?”
“Oh no! We kept the house and a bit of land that includes the Gold Hole. I really don’t think Wendell wants it. The way the land is shaped, it wouldn’t do him any good unless he bought the house too. Wendell wanted raw land for development. The house is on the beach and it is too valuable to buy it to just tear it down to build something new.”
“What about these accidents? What happened?”