I was flummoxed. When I went back to Families of the Western Shore, however, I found that the genealogy in that volume passed from Donald Daniel McInnes, to a “Daniel Jr.” who had “found ‘The Money Pit Site’ in 1795.” The only explanation I could come up with was that either Karlie or the McGinnis descendants had confused Daniel McGinnis, discoverer of the Money Pit, with his father. But what about the claim that family records showed “Donald MacInnes” attending the baptism of his grandchild in Chester in 1795? That might be accounted for by the other available eighteenth-century document relating to either Donald or Daniel McInnes in Nova Scotia (found in the archives of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints), a copy of the record of the marriage of Donald Daniel McGinnis to Maria Barbara Saller at St. James’ Anglican Church in Lunenburg on September 8, 1795. Daniel Jr. was supposed to have been sixteen when he found the Money Pit a few months before that date, but a marriage later that year hardly seemed out of the question, given that his friend John Smith had been only fifteen when he married. But what about the alleged baptism of the grandson of Donald MacInnes? I went back to Families of the Western Shore, where, with both a sense of relief and a conviction that I could be done chasing the ghost of Daniel McGinnis, I discovered a reference to a document recording the baptism of one James Johan McGinnis, son of Daniel and Maria Barbara, in Chester on July 26, 1797.
I was satisfied that I had a working model of who Daniel McGinnis had been and where he had come from: the son of a Scottish or Welsh father who came to America as a boy, lived with his family in North Carolina, joined the loyalist side in the Revolutionary War and emigrated to Canada after the British surrender, accepting the grant of one hundred acres near Chester that he worked as a farmer. If Donald Daniel Sr. had been born in 1759, then it made sense that Donald Daniel Jr. might have been born twenty years later in 1779, which would have made him sixteen years old in 1795. The story held up, but only to a point.
It seemed clear that the tale of young Daniel McGinnis rowing out to a mysterious uninhabited island where he was startled by the discovery of a weird depression in the ground was not exactly how things had really happened. In 1951, the Nova Scotia Bureau of Information (a government agency that no longer exists) published the first official account of the Oak Island story. The document’s concise summary of the Money Pit’s discovery reads as follows: “Anthony Vaughan, Jack Smith and Dan McInnes, on a shooting trip to Oak Island from the neighboring mainland, found an aged oak with a sawed short limb from which dangled a stout line and pulley. Under the tree was a depression in the ground, apparently man made.”
Among the many problems with that account is that Oak Island was inhabited in 1795 by John Smith and his family among others. It was possible Smith already owned lot 18 on Oak Island when the Money Pit was discovered at some date after June 26, 1795. (One account of the Pit’s discovery placed the year as 1799.) Daniel McGinnis might have rowed out to the island—almost certainly had rowed out to the island, if he wasn’t already living there—but it could have been for the purpose of visiting his friend John or doing some work for John’s family. Or maybe he was tracking game; Frederick Blair, the dominant figure in the Oak Island treasure hunt from the late nineteenth century through the middle of the twentieth and the greatest researcher of the Oak Island story, wrote that McInnes had been “partridge hunting” when he found the Money Pit. Other accounts say that he was cutting trees for either Smith or Vaughan when he stumbled on the anomaly that would launch what has become the longest treasure hunt in human history.
What exactly that anomaly had been was yet another question for which a variety of answers had been offered.
The account of the discovery in Judge DesBrisay’s book read:
McInnes one day discovered a spot that gave evidence of having been visited a good many years earlier. There had been cuttings away of the forest, and oak stumps were visible. One of the original oaks was standing, with a large forked branch extending over the old clearing. To the forked part of this branch, by means of a treenail connecting the fork in a small triangle, was attached an old tackle block. McInnes made known his find to his neighbors.
No mention of a large circular depression. Also, DesBrisay’s account made it sound as if McGinnis was living on the island at the time, as were “his neighbors” Smith and Vaughan. Only when all three went back to the spot the next day did they notice that the ground beneath the tackle block had “settled and formed a hollow,” according to DesBrisay, who wrote that the three “cleared away the young trees, and removed the surface soil for about two feet” before finding the tier of flagstones and the entrance to a shaft.
The first newspaper account written by McCully for the Liverpool Transcript also described McGinnis as initially being curious about the stumps of old oak trees crowned with thick mats of moss and then noticing that the trees growing among the stumps were younger than the other oaks in the forest. The descriptions of “oak stumps” and “young trees” seemed especially significant to me, because, if true, they almost certainly ruled out a number of the theories of Oak Island that had been offered over the years, some of them dating back a thousand years or more. There was no way (and arborists hired by The Curse of Oak Island have confirmed this) that McGinnis would have noticed either the oak stumps or the young trees if the “cutting away of the forest” had occurred centuries earlier. To me, that almost certainly meant that whoever was responsible for the original excavation in that spot had done the work no earlier than the seventeenth century. This considerably shortened the long list of candidates who had been proposed by literally dozens of theorists.
The Colonist articles of 1864, also possibly written by McCully, made less of the oak stumps than of three remaining oak trees that grew in an equilateral triangle around the Money Pit. The articles make it clear that those three trees were what marked the ground between them. The Colonist articles also state that after observing the triangle of trees, McGinnis noticed that the bark of each trunk had letters and symbols carved into it. This description appears in no other early account of the Money Pit’s discovery.
Among the many questions raised by these early accounts is this: just what kinds of oak trees were growing on Oak Island back in 1795? The original trees are long gone, mostly killed off by an infestation of black ants during the nineteenth century. R. V. Harris had noted that a number of his sources “apparently with a view to adding more mystery to their stories, have stated that this species of oak does not grow elsewhere in Nova Scotia, that they are southern trees found no farther north than Louisiana.” Also, at least two historians who authored books on the subject of piracy and mentioned Oak Island in their works (one being Charles B. Driscoll, whose Doubloons is regarded in Canada as a classic work) had written that the trees on the island were the species known as live oak (Quercus virginiana), an evergreen oak found only in the southern United States. Harris, though, asserted that the trees on the island were “undoubtedly” red oaks, which do grow on the Nova Scotia mainland. He cited the autopsy of one of the last surviving old oaks on the island, a wounded tree that had been cut down in 1931 “and examined critically with a view to determining its age and the cause of the injury.” Embedded deep in the tree’s trunk, those who cut it open found the tip of a thick knife blade that had broken off inside it. When the rings of the tree were counted outward from the blade, it was determined that at least 183 years had passed since the wound was inflicted, which Harris claimed as support for his theory