This series of articles commenced as a monthly series written for a senior’s magazine in Prince Edward Island. The first article appeared in July 2008, the object being to raise the profile of Oak Island among readers, and bring to their attention some of the exciting history of treasure seeking, together with results of recent research. As is often the case a change of focus occurred during the writing, the end result being that the articles became more detailed and comprehensive than originally planned. The series is reproduced here by The Oak Island Tourism Society for the benefit of all readers of Scribes Corner. It should be emphasized that the opinions expressed herein are those of the author, who takes full responsibility for any omissions that may be perceived in the reading.

The titles of the articles are as follows:-

Introduction

Part I The First Treasure Seekers

Part II A Flood Tunnel is Discovered

Part III Vital Clues

Part IV Evidence of Underground Disaster

Part V Evidence of ‘Who’ Buried ‘What’

Part VI Sir William Phips, the Forgotten Treasure-Seeker

Part VII Military Intervention

Part VIII The Search for Treasure 1900-1966

Part IX The Blankenship Years

Part X Engineering the Smith’s Cove Cofferdam and the Flood Tunnel

Part XI Theories

Conclusion

At the outset I would like to acknowledge the great assistance received from a large number of Oak Island enthusiasts on both sides of the Atlantic, especially that of Les MacPhie, a valued friend and colleague. It is always a pleasure to work with others in a spirit of true cooperation towards a mutual goal, and it is hoped this series will inspire further research to seek additional information and fill perceived gaps. The picture is fragmentary and far from complete.

Introduction

For over two centuries Oak Island, a small island off the coast of Nova Scotia, has held a mystery, for it has gained renown as the site of one of the world's last great treasure hunts. Over the years the island has witnessed much fruitless effort to recover that believed to lie buried there, and a steady stream of optimistic treasure-seekers, anxious to pit their wits against the forces of nature, has come from far and wide in an attempt to solve that 'mystery'.

Oak Island, named from the profuse growth of timber it once supported, lies at the head of Mahone Bay, about 100 miles south of Halifax. The bay holds many islands, of which Oak Island is one of the most secluded, or was two centuries ago when the region was lightly settled.  The island, no more than about a half-mile long, hugs the mainland tightly and is connected to it by a short causeway constructed in 1965.

My interest, and subsequent involvement, in Oak Island began in 1993. By profession I am a geological engineer, and part of my working life was spent underground in shafts and tunnels. As luck would have it I found myself in some of the deepest mines in the world, the gold mines of the Witwatersrand in South Africa. At over two miles below surface there was often more fear than fun in practicing one's profession. I mention this because I believe my experiences in those deep mines has helped shed light upon the 'mystery' of Oak Island. Perhaps without that experience the shroud of 'mystery' would continue to be as opaque as ever, with countless theories being advanced of 'who' did 'what', 'when' and 'why' with scarcely a scrap of supporting evidence.

One definition of a ‘mystery’ is a series of events which defies rational interpretation. Nevertheless, in regard to the Oak island ‘mystery’ vestiges of evidence remain and it is expected that public interest will continue to mount for sensational times undoubtedly lie ahead. The island is a gem of history for three reasons. Firstly, it is the scene of two centuries of futile digging in search of treasure - a truly human and often tragic tale. Secondly, what was buried still lies unrecovered because of the geological obstacles that have confounded the treasure-seekers of the past, the significance of which we have just begun to appreciate. Thirdly, and more importantly, indications are that the island played a prominent part in one of the great upheavals of history, one that led to a revolution that shattered the balance of power in Europe, and which affected the destiny of North America. One day that story will become better known, more universally accepted, and a significant chapter will be added to the history of early Canada.

Our story begins in 1795 when a young man, exploring the forest undergrowth, stumbled into a clearing amidst the primeval oaks. There, in its centre, stood a massive oak bearing a sawn off limb, from which was suspended an old, weather-beaten block and tackle. Immediately beneath lay a depression in the ground that immediately gave rise to hopes that here might be pirate treasure. As the well-known pirate, Captain Kidd, had gone to his execution in 1701 vowing his treasure to have been buried on 'an island in the Indies', and his treasure had not been recovered, the treasure on the island was confidently predicted to be his. Fuelled by such dreams he returned the next day with two friends armed with shovels. They uncovered a layer of flagstones beneath the grassy sod, and found themselves within a circular pit of about 13 feet diameter that had been previously excavated through the stony ground. They began to clean out the soil-infilling to the pit and encountered a platform of timber logs at a depth of ten feet.  Further platforms were subsequently encountered at regular intervals which had been staging for those who had worked the pit last. Strong farm youths though they were the trio were forced to give up their clandestine work at a depth of 30 feet.

The 1795 discovery promptly spawned a sequence of treasure-seeking ventures, and the last 200 years has seen a steady stream of individuals and consortia eager to risk their fortunes in the pursuit of greater riches. Few, in the past, appear to have had any appreciation of the underground hazards they faced, or any inkling of what might be buried there or by whom.

Theorists have advanced many names over the years, and created fantastic scenarios of 'who' may have buried treasure on the island. Captain Kidd's name continues to be advanced by some, whereas others prefer more illustrious individuals drawn from British sources, such as Francis Drake, Martin Frobisher, and other Elizabethans. Europeans are favoured by others, for Spain, Portugal, and France were all maritime nations active on the high seas in the run up to the 1795 discovery. Some claim the treasure to have originated with the Incas who, in some mysterious way, transported vast amounts of gold across the Andes in their flight from the Spanish conquistadors, and set sail for a northern sanctuary. Others claim the treasure to be the missing crown jewels of France or Scotland, unpublished manuscripts of Francis Bacon or William Shakespeare, Egyptian artifacts, the wealth of the Knights Templar taken from Jerusalem, the treasure from the sack of Havana in 1762 or that of Panama in 1671, or the shaft was simply dug by aliens from an unknown planet to aid future conquest of Earth. In summary there is not one scrap of archival information, or fact, which can reasonably be accepted as giving credence to any of these often wild and fanciful theories. In Part XI of this series some of these theories are given consideration.

Despite the lack of support for any specific theory, compelling evidence suggests there is indeed a valuable treasure buried at great depth. A series of boreholes put down between 1967 and 1971 provides some of the most tantalizing evidence; a number of cavities having been proved within the bedrock at a depth of between 195 and 210 feet from surface, some roofed with thick timber and iron plate. Artifacts dating from the late seventeenth to eighteenth centuries, such as axes, picks and oil lamps have been recovered and, more excitingly, fragments of Ming china and traces of mercury. Although no gold, silver or jewels have yet been found, the evidence to date suggests the treasure will prove to be that of a Spanish galleon. A long-forgotten incident of maritime history appears to lie at the heart of this perplexing, and fascinating, enigma.

Part I: The First Treasure Seekers

The young men, Daniel McGinnis, Anthony Vaughan and John Smith, soon gave up their  attempts to penetrate the depths of the island, valiant though these were, as legend tells they managed to clean the pit out to a depth of 30 feet. It may be assumed their 1795 discovery was discussed with their families, but despite this it was not until 1804 that a more persistent attempt was made to extend the diggings.

News of the Money Pit, as it was to become later known, was divulged to Simeon Lynds of Onslow, Nova Scotia, who was related to the Vaughan family. He and some friends formed a syndicate to continue the digging which was to become known as the Onslow Syndicate. The Island was witness to frenzied activity over the following two years as the group pursued the dream of buried treasure. In the end their activities were to prove futile, but nevertheless information of value was obtained.

The group managed to exhume the Pit to a final depth of 93 feet. There is no mention in the records of their having encountered oak platforms at ten foot intervals, as reported originally, but it may be assumed these had once been present as reference is made to layers of charcoal, putty and coconut fibre being found at regular intervals as the diggings were deepened, together with a “mark every ten feet” in the sides of the shaft, which may have remained from platforms previously in place.

Long after the Onslow Syndicate had departed the scene, a James McNutt, who was involved in further attempts in 1863, and who appears to have been a participant, or at least a witness of the earlier work, mentions “at forty feet a tier of charcoal; at fifty feet a tier of smooth stones from the beach, with figures and letters cut on them; at sixty feet a tier of manilla grass and the rind of a coconut; at seventy feet a tier of putty.” All of these materials are likely to have been utilised by those engaged in the original diggings prior to the 1795 discovery, though the observation that the stones had “figures and letters cut on them” should perhaps be taken with reservation.

Charcoal has a variety of uses, including purification of water on ships, and as an ingredient of gunpowder. It is also a valuable fuel. During the seventeenth century a technique began to be adopted which helped overcome the greatest obstacle faced by an underground miner - foul air! The method of providing clean air to those toiling underground was to establish a furnace at a depth of 30 to 40 feet from surface, generally accepted as the maximum depth a small diameter shaft can be excavated without recourse to ventilation. The foul air would be sucked up from the working face at greater depth by means of a pipe, and burnt in the furnace.

The result is a downdraught of clean convective air which descends the shaft - who of us, at one time or another, has not sat in front of an open fire with our toes toasting and our backs freezing? The layer of charcoal discovered in the pit thus yields a vital clue, for this method of ventilation did not become widely practiced by the mining world until after 1665. It may be concluded, therefore, that charcoal had once fuelled a furnace within the pit. This helps date some of the underground work.

Putty was reported to have been removed from the Pit in large quantities, sufficient to glaze the windows of many houses in the Mahone Bay region. The beach stones and coconut fibre exhumed may have mystified the diggers of the Onslow Syndicate at the time, but their significance will become apparent as our story unfolds.

A large slab of stone was found at a depth of 90 feet. It is reported that it had an inscription cut into its lowermost surface in “rudely cut letters and figures .... they could not decipher it, as it was either too badly cut or did not appear to be in their vernacular.” From what we know the slab was 36 by 15 inches, and 10 inch thick, and weighed about 500 lbs, though smaller dimensions and lesser weight are often reported. The stone appears to have had a very chequered career before its final disappearance in the 1930s. During the 120 odd years of its existence it formed part of a fireplace on Oak Island, before being taken to Halifax in an attempt to decipher the inscription. At one point it was displayed in the window of a bookbinder. Though it was reported “it had become so defaced it was illegible” various renderings of the inscription have been published, the most popular being “FORTY FEET BELOW TWO MILLION POUNDS ARE BURIED.”

If it did indeed carry cryptic markings it is difficult to understand why it was treated with such scant respect as to be built into a fireplace. It is equally puzzling that its purported message was only made public in the 1860s, at a time when funds were being sought for a much later treasure-seeking venture. Though it is certain the stone actually existed some doubt must be cast upon its encrypted message, if indeed such a message was ever inscribed. Since then the stone has vanished.

At a depth of 93 feet serious inflows of water began to seep into the Pit, with one cask of water being hauled out for every two of moist earth. Probing ahead with an iron bar a hard resistant surface was encountered at a depth of 98 feet, which appeared to extend across the entire shaft. The treasure-seekers must have been excited with the prospects of treasure so close! As it was a Saturday work was halted for the weekend, and not resumed until the Monday. The fury and chagrin of the workers can be imagined when, on their return, they found the Pit full of water which had risen to a depth of 33 feet, coincident with sea level. A high capacity pump was put into operation, but this failed to make headway against the influx of water.

The following year (1805) the Onslow Syndicate attempted to get at the treasure, which they perceived to lie within their grasp, by excavating a shaft adjacent to the Pit and 14 feet away. Digging through the tough glacial till was more toilsome than removing the soil infilling of the Pit itself, but they managed to attain a depth of 110 feet without serious problem or major influx of water. They then excavated horizontally towards where the imagined treasure lay. About two feet away from their target water and debris poured in and flooded them out, and those underground at the time were lucky to escape with their lives. In less than two hours the new shaft was full of water to the same level as that within the Pit. The syndicate did not renew their treasure-seeking activities, and 40 years were to elapse before another set of adventurers tried their luck.

Part II: A Flood Tunnel is Discovered

Four decades elapsed before the search for treasure was renewed in 1845. It is likely the three who discovered the Money Pit in 1795, as well as others, may have carried out some probings of their own in the interval, but there is nothing to suggest any unreported activity might have proved fruitful.

A new group of searchers gathered their resources to make another assault on the Money Pit. This group became known as the Truro Syndicate, some members having been connected with the earlier group (the Onslow Syndicate), who had seen their hopes vanish so spectacularly after the workings had been flooded.

Active work recommenced in 1849 with cleaning out the collapsed excavations, which had combined to form a single pit full of water and debris. It took a mere 12 days to re-establish themselves at a depth of 86 feet, a few feet above that attained by the previous group. It being Sunday morning the men went to church in Chester, and when they returned they found the water in the shaft had risen to a level coincident with the sea. Attempts to lower the water by bailing proved unsuccessful, so to explore to greater depth they decided to put down auger holes from a platform erected inside the pit at a depth of 30 feet, i.e. three feet above sea level. Five holes were put down penetrating to depths from 106 to 112 feet (as measured from surface).

The first two holes encountered nothing but mud and stones, but the next three produced tantalizing evidence of great wealth just beyond their grasp. A statement records the following - “The platform (found in the Pit in 1804) was struck at 98 feet just as the old diggers found it, when sounding with an iron bar. After going through the platform, which was five inches thick, and proved to be of spruce, the auger dropped twelve inches and then went through twenty-two inches of metal in pieces; but failed to bring up anything in the nature of treasure, except three links of an ancient watch chain. It then went through eight inches of oak, which was thought to be the bottom of the first box and the top of the next; then twenty-two inches of metal the same as before; then four inches of oak, then six inches of spruce, then into seven feet of clay without striking anything.” Who can blame them for believing they had found tangible evidence of treasure - treasure in wooden casks on a platform of wood at a depth of 105 feet? This boosted their morale, despite their inability to lower the water in the pit. Surely it could be only a matter of time before the treasure was won!

Some exaggeration regarding the nature of the treasure is understandable under the circumstances. Seventeen years later, one of the diggers declared the ‘three links of watch chain’ to have been three loops of copper wire. However, he also added that grass and putty were encountered in the borings, similar to that found earlier at higher levels within the pit.  

An incident happened after drilling the fifth hole, the truth of which has never been determined. James Pitblado, the foreman, was carefully scrutinizing each fragment of material brought to surface on the auger blades. It is reported he hid something on his person, and soon after left the island, following which he attempted to buy the property with a partner. Whether anything of real value was brought up by the augers, or Pitblado had covetous designs, as might be inferred, will never be known.

The following year another shaft was dug to a depth of 109 feet, with the object of recovering the treasure by again approaching it from below. The procedure duplicated that of their predecessors, and the result was the same - water and soil burst into the shaft, the water slowly rising to sea level. The men barely escaped with their lives, but one fell into the water and discovered it to be salty. From this they concluded the Money Pit to be linked to the sea.

An intense search was made of the shoreline, and resulted in an amazing discovery. In a nearby cove, known as Smith's Cove, about 500 feet from the Money Pit, they observed water oozing out of the shingle more than elsewhere when the tide was ebbing. This excessive oozing occurred over a 145 feet length of beach, at the ends of which were large boulders. The grouping of these boulders suggested they had been deliberately removed from the beach in-between.

Convinced they had discovered the inlet works of a tunnel linking the sea to the Money Pit they began digging, and within a few hours they had uncovered a cunning system of drains leading to an intake. This was obviously intended to supply the pit with water and maintain it in a flooded state.

The drains, five in number and eight inches square internally, were formed of large flattened stones laid within a thick blanket of smaller cobbles and gravel. The drains, and this blanket of free-draining material, had been sandwiched between layers of grass and coconut fibre to prevent clogging by natural siltation. The drains converged into a larger drain sloping inland towards the Money Pit.

The diggers turned their attentions to exposing more of this water intake system, with a view to destroying its link to the Money Pit. By 'turning off the tap' they hoped to be able to drain the pit. The sequence of their activities is confusing with shafts and other excavations put down with this aim in mind, but their efforts were to no avail - the connection could not be intercepted or broken, and the water continued to flow.

Yet another shaft was dug adjacent to the Money Pit, with the purpose of again reaching the treasure from below. This shaft extended to 112 feet, and as they dug towards the treasure they were flooded out, again barely escaping with their lives. With their funds exhausted the Truro Syndicate gave up their thankless task. Nine years elapsed and then another group of adventurers tried their luck. The Oak Island Association was formed in 1860 and, wary of making a frontal assault on the Money Pit, they opted to dig a shaft some distance to the east of the pit and drive a tunnel towards the treasure.

Again the tunnel was inundated with mud and water. It was the fourth attempt to reach the treasure by this method - and the fourth failure.

A strenuous effort was then made to bail out the Money Pit itself as well as adjacent shafts. It is reported that 63 men and 33 horses were engaged on this enterprise. Activity came to a sudden close, however, when the timbering within the Money Pit collapsed, leaving only the top 30 feet intact. However, the bottom of the pit was plumbed immediately after and found to be at a depth of 102 feet, when a few hours earlier it had been at 88 feet. The inevitable conclusion was that the platforms containing the treasure had either dropped fourteen feet vertically, or had been dislodged sideways into the bottom of one of the adjacent shafts (of which there were several) that had been dug to approach the treasure from below.

The company engaged on further excavation in the vicinity of the Money Pit in attempts to get at the treasure, but failed to make any headway against the constant inflow of water. As a result they turned their attentions to Smith's Cove to try and block the inflow of water by sealing the filter drains with clay. This was not successful either, and in 1866 they gave up and ceded their rights to a group that became known as the Halifax Company.

An intricate flood tunnel system had been found which could not be overcome. The construction of this system is now considered to be a masterpiece of engineering, one which today's engineers would be hard pressed to emulate with such crude materials. A later article will describe ‘why’, ‘how’, and ‘when’ the tunnel is believed to have been built, for such an understanding is crucial to resolving the Oak Island ‘mystery’.

Part III: Vital Clues

The next group of treasure-seekers on Oak Island, known as the Halifax Company, commenced their activities in 1866, but these were short-lived lasting only a year. Nevertheless, the company can be credited with one of the most important discoveries concerning the Flood Tunnel, one which had proved a stumbling block in gaining access to the treasure.

Some distance from the Money Pit they dug a shaft to a depth of about 110 feet, then began digging tunnels towards where they thought the line of the Flood Tunnel might be, in the hope they could intercept it and bleed away the water flowing towards the Money Pit. With the benefit of hindsight this was somewhat foolish as one of their tunnels did encounter it in startling fashion. The foreman in charge, Mr. S.C.Fraser, describes the encounter as follows - “..... the water hurled rocks about twice the size of a man's head, with many smaller [rocks], and drove the men back for protection. We could not go back into the shaft again for about nine hours. Then the pumps conquered and we went down and cleared it out.” Later reports describe the Flood Tunnel as being filled with “... round stones, such as are found abundantly on the beach and fields around the island”, and give the internal dimensions of the Flood Tunnel as 2ft 6in wide by 4ft high.

The internal dimensions of the Flood Tunnel are above average interest. They may be considered too small for comfortable working today, but these dimensions were common in numerous mines in the British Isles in the two centuries prior to the discovery of the underground workings in 1795. Furthermore, these dimensions were standard in military engineering for siege tunnels, i.e. tunnels excavated beneath enemy fortifications for purposes of demolition. It is doubtful whether the Halifax Company realized the connection, but today the evidence points to (a) that there was indeed a British connection, and (b) this connection involved the British Army.

During their limited tenure on the island the Halifax Company attempted other work, but their only other noteworthy achievement was more drilling in the Money Pit, this time to a depth of 163 feet, over fifty feet deeper than previous drilling by the Truro Syndicate in 1849. The drilling proved disappointing as no sign of any treasure was found, but the results showed the Money Pit shaft to extend to a far greater depth than previously thought likely, and to be filled with a variety of materials, e.g. wood, gravel and soft clay intermixed with quantities of charcoal and coconut fibre. The results also suggest a number of cavities within the shaft, presumably formed by the supporting timbers that had collapsed from higher up when the platforms carrying the treasure had mysteriously plummeted into the depths. How deep was the Money Pit? No one knew then, and still to this date its depth remains uncertain. Our best estimate now is about 210 feet.

It was not until 1894, an elapse of seventeen years, before another group of treasure seekers took up the challenge. In the meantime, however, an incident of particular note occurred (1878). The eastern part of the island was being farmed by Sophia Sellers and her husband. One day, Sophia was ploughing with a team of oxen when a ‘well-like’ hole opened up beneath her. The oxen were rescued, but the hole was filled in with boulders to prevent any re-occurrence. The location of the cave-in, now commonly referred to as the Cave-In Pit, was later affirmed to apparently lie directly above the Flood Tunnel between the Money Pit and Smith's Cove.

Tunnellers always prefer to excavate tunnels on an upslope. This helps to keep the working face free of water, and to assist in the removal of excavated material. Also, tunnellers are not so foolish as to tunnel towards the sea unless they are confident about the nature of the ground ahead of them. Immediately, therefore, it may be concluded the Flood Tunnel was excavated by digging from two ends - one being within the Money Pit itself, the other from a shaft at Smith's Cove. The ‘cave-in’ experienced by Sophia Sellers and her oxen was likely close to where the two met, a ventilation shaft being provided at this point. In this case the ‘cave-in’ likely resulted from inadequate backfilling of that shaft on completion of the work.

The Oak Island Treasure Company, led by Frederick Blair of Amherst resumed work in 1894 full of confidence and brimming with enthusiasm. The first task they undertook was to re-excavate the Cave-In Pit, and by so doing soon found themselves in a circular shaft of six to eight feet diameter which had been part of the original Flood Tunnel works. The shaft was cleaned out to a depth of 55 feet, at which point they were flooded out by sea water, the water rising to tide level. It is obvious that Sophia Sellers and her team of oxen had stumbled upon the location of an old ventilation shaft, one which had been filled in after completion of the Flood Tunnel. The company then set themselves the task of more fully cutting off the water supply to the Money Pit via the Flood Tunnel. This they managed to largely accomplish by drilling holes across the line of the tunnel at Smith's Cove, and letting off charges of dynamite. When detonation occurred the water in the Money Pit is reported to have boiled and foamed.

The Money Pit shaft was reinstated to a sufficient depth to expose its intersection of the Flood Tunnel. This confirmed the dimensions of the tunnel to be 2ft 6in wide by 4ft high, and infilled with smooth beach stones as previously reported by the Halifax Company in 1867. The crown (or roof) of the tunnel was at a depth of 110 feet while the invert (or floor) was at 114 feet.

Though water flows had been curtailed to some degree by the blasting, water still entered the Money Pit, and once the intersection with the Flood Tunnel had been exposed the water in the Pit soon proved unmanageable with the pump capacity available. The water soon rose to a level coincident with sea level. About this time a man fell to his death when a hoist-rope broke.

After more pump capacity had been provided the water stabilized at about the 100 foot level and it was decided to put down more borings within the Money Pit itself. A total of five holes was put down up to a depth of 188 feet. Some intriguing evidence was recovered. The main purpose was to determine, if possible, the depth to which the treasure chests had fallen following the collapse of the supporting platform in 1861. The treasure had been supposed to be supported upon a platform of logs at the 105 foot level, i.e. a few feet above the intersection of the Flood Tunnel with the Money Pit. The fact that the drill holes penetrated to 188 feet, twenty-five feet deeper than those put down by the Halifax Company almost thirty years previous, was cause for speculation. The Money Pit was certainly deeper than any had thought! They did not give much thought as to why the Money Pit was so deep, or why the drilling was so easy. Perhaps they should, but their minds were elsewhere for new tantalizing evidence was discovered (or so they imagined) of metal bars and coin buried in a cement vault at a depth of between 153 and 160 feet from surface.

Part IV: Evidence of Underground Disaster

I am going to depart from the strict chronological account and leap forward some three decades. At the end of the last article it was mentioned drill holes were put down within the Money Pit to a depth of 188 feet, and that no one seems to have given much thought as to why the Money Pit was so deep, or why the drilling was so easy! Especially when the Flood Tunnel intersected the Money Pit at lesser depths of between 110 and 114 feet In 1931 William Chappell and Frederick Blair penetrated the depths of the Money Pit, extending the greatest depth previously reached from 113 feet to 155 feet. They went where no man had gone before - at least since 1795. In their digging they encountered certain artifacts which included an anchor fluke at 116 feet, an axe head at 123 feet and a pick and miner's oil lamp at 127 feet.

Rupert Furneaux in his well-known book Money Pit - The Mystery of Oak Island (1972) writes “these discoveries perplexed Blair”, he also reports him verbatim in the following words:- From 116 ft. six in. to 155 ft., the earth in over half the shaft was much disturbed [apparently the vertical shaft was located partly in virgin ground and partly over the Money Pit]. How these articles reached a depth of from ten to seventeen ft. lower than any searcher ever reached, is a question that must be answered..........Both (the axe and the pick) were in perpendicular position and in soft, disturbed or filled ground...........At about 150 ft. we commenced to uncover broken-up pieces of stone, the nature of which no person can here identify. They have the appearance of the so-called cement which was drilled through in previous years, and yet it does not resemble it in all respects.  These stones first appeared in the disturbed portion of the Pit, a chunk or two and gradually spread over the whole area. As the men dug deeper, the bottom became largely covered with this stuff in broken pieces, and Mr. Stevenson, the miner in charge of the actual work, says they appear as if they had been dumped or dropped from a higher point. At the present level [155 feet], the bottom of the Pit is covered with this stuff, and it seems as if we are in a bed of it that may extend considerably deeper. Blair's descriptions tally exactly with what might be expected of a layman describing the results of an underground disaster known as a ‘blow out’.

Underground failures in tunnels and shafts are not infrequent. In some of the world's deepest mines, especially those on the Witwatersrand of South Africa, ‘rock bursts’ (as they are known) are often extremely violent events and take an annual toll of life. The visitor underground may be alarmed by the rock creaking ominously, but it is only releasing its internal stresses in a controlled manner. The deeper the mine the greater thosestresses and the increased chances of disaster. At four miles below surface rock pressures exceed 25,000 pounds per square inch, and with a temperature increase of about 1ºC every 300 feet, it is a hot, dangerous, and cramped environment in which the miners toil. When the rock releases its energy suddenly and violently the explosion is equivalent to about 3.0 or 3.5 on the Richter Scale of Earthquake Magnitude, i.e about that of a small atomic bomb. A novel set against the backdrop of such an event is that by Wilbur Smith titled Gold after such a disaster struck the West Driefontein Mine in 1970. Some 6,000 workers were underground at the time, but fortunately not a single life was lost.

What has this to do with the Money Pit? Quite a lot, because ‘rock bursts’ at great depth have their counterparts at shallower depths, when they are called ‘blow outs’. In fact a ‘rock burst’ may be thought of as a more specific type of ‘blow out’. A ‘blow out’ may be described in general terms as “a catastrophic event when the external hydrostatic or rock pressure causes a failure of the rock cavity in which mining is taking place - the mine workings become suddenly inundated with water or rock debris (or both) when implosion takes place - loss of life may result”. An experienced underground engineer, familiar with the phenomena of ‘rock bursts’ and ‘blow outs’, would have instantly recognized the significance of Blair's account. Though Blair stumbled on the evidence in 1931 it was not until 1994 that the significance of his account was eventually realized.

Blair also writes “At about 150 ft. we commenced to uncover broken-up pieces of stone, the nature of which no person here can identify.” These fragments of rock became larger and more numerous with depth until “the bottom of the Pit is covered”. Blair appears to have made no attempt to identify the type of rock. Since none of those involved in the excavation could identify it, it may be presumed none of the workers had seen that type of rock before, either at higher levels in the shaft or at surface. All must be assumed to have been familiar with the common rock types of the area, or those which had been encountered as boulders within the glacial till overburden. The only rock type which is present at depth, but not evident at surface, is gypsum/anhydrite which is now known to directly underlie the Money Pit. When Blair and Chappell were engaged on their excavation they would have had no knowledge of the presence of this material at greater depth, for it is only from deep boreholes put down in the 1960s that the first real evidence arose regarding the existence of this quite treacherous rock type. It is treacherous because it is soluble. For those unfamiliar with the substance it is the material from which gypsum based wallboard, and drywall compounds, are manufactured.

A blow out at the base of a shaft would lead to a plume of rock debris surging upwards, possibly triggered by pumping or bailing operations. In the process of rising upwards the larger, heavier fragments of rock debris would have lagged behind the smaller, lighter materials, and a degree of segregation would have resulted much in the manner described by Blair.

Blair writes that “Both (the axe and the pick) were in perpendicular position and in soft, disturbed or filled ground ....” From this statement it cannot be ascertained whether the axe and pick either fell from above or ascended from below, as long-handled tools such as these will assume a similar aspect whether they drop from above or rise from below. It was assumed by Blair that the tools and associated artifacts found between depths of 116 and 127 feet had fallen, but the possibility remains (though unlikely as will be seen) that they may have originated from depth, being transported upwards within the plume of debris. An upwards surge of debris within the Money Pit shaft would have risen high enough to counterbalance the hydrostatic pressure imposed by the external sea level. Simple physics shows the column of debris would have ascended to between 115 and 125 feet below ground surface, which is marginally below the point where the invert of the Flood Tunnel connects with the Money Pit shaft at a depth of 114 feet. The question that immediately arises is - which came first, the chicken or the egg, i.e. the ‘blow out’ or the Flood Tunnel? It is too much of a coincidence that the debris column rose to within a few feet of the intersection between shaft and tunnel! It must be concluded, therefore, that since the Flood Tunnel serves no apparent purpose, apart from maintaining the Money Pit in a flooded state, it must have been excavated later. The Money Pit shaft and the Flood Tunnel are very dissimilar. From a mining standpoint the shaft could have been dug by anyone (first time around) with little engineering knowledge. However, the excavation of the tunnel required a higher degree of sophistication and mining expertise. The two elements of the underground workings are, therefore, as different as chalk and cheese! It may be concluded they were likely constructed by different parties, and that decades elapsed between their separate excavations. The Flood Tunnel is 2½ feet wide by 4 feet high which is significant, for these were standard dimensions in many British mines, dimensions which had been adopted by the sappers and miners of the British military.

The implications are that the Flood Tunnel was constructed after the ‘blow out’, and whatever had been buried in the Money Pit had proved impossible to recover. That ‘something’ must have been of enormous value to warrant the construction of the Flood Tunnel and its appurtenant works, an undertaking that can be estimated as having taken 18 to 24 months to accomplish.

Part V: Evidence of 'who' buried 'what'

One of the great debates among enthusiasts of the Oak Island ‘mystery’ is, of course, ‘who’ buried ‘what’. The debate began in 1795, after the first signs of underground workings were first discovered, and continues to rage as fiercely as ever. Numerous theories have been advanced in the past and newer, more imaginative theories continue to be advanced almost yearly. There is, of course, nothing wrong with advancing a particular theory provided it is supported by sufficient facts or, at least, a degree of common sense rational thinking.

This article will deal with three items of archival evidence which support the viewpoint that there is indeed a large valuable treasure buried upon Oak Island, the identity of the person who placed it there and who, of course, found it impossible to recover by virtue of the ‘blow out’ that occurred within the Money Pit shaft (see Part IV). Roger Ascham (1515-68), a learned Elizabethan scholar, remarked - “By experience, we find a short way by a long wandering”. It has indeed proved a long wandering, for countless archival records have been sifted over the past decade, searching for those clues that would help identify ‘who’ buried ‘what’, ‘why’ and ‘when’.

The first item of archival evidence can be found in the Shoreham Grant, which covered the transfer of a huge tract of land to settlers in the vicinity of Chester (initially called Shoreham). The land grant included Oak Island within its limits. The Shoreham Grant was signed on October 18, 1759, by Charles Lawrence Esquire, Captain-General and Governor-in-Chief of Nova Scotia. The original document consists of seven handwritten pages, and includes the following curious restriction on the future activities of the settlers - “......whereof the said Township is to consists with all and all manner of Mines unopened excepting Mines of Gold and Silver, precious Stones and Lapis Lazuli .....”

The credulous might be excused for believing the reference to gold and silver applies to ores in their natural states. This thinking might equally extend to the discovery of precious stones, though Nova Scotia was not known for the production of gemstones at the time, nor ever likely to be. However, only the gullible would believe the claim to extend to lapis lazuli, which is a highly treasured precious stone originating in China and Central Asia. Lapis lazuli is bright blue, softer than most gemstones, and is often called ‘the sapphire of the ancients’. The Spanish traded extensively with the Orient, and lapis lazuli was one of the commodities that found its way onto galleons homeward bound to Spain. Why did the Shoreham Grant include such a curious phrase? The answer is obvious - the exceptions refer to ‘treasure’, most likely Spanish treasure.

By inference, it is obvious the government could not recover that ‘treasure’ for themselves. The second item of archival interest was discovered in a file of documents in the National Archives (of the U.K.) relating to the settlement of Lunenburg which took place in June 1753, six years prior to the signing of the Shoreham Grant. There was a vast amount of correspondence in the lead up to the physical transportation of settlers anxious to carve out a new life in the wilderness. Among these papers were found thirty-five pages of carefully copied script on identical sized paper of the same texture, in identical ink, and in identical hands. Official testimonies accompanied this sheaf of papers to the effect that the two copy writers concerned were official record clerks of the Government of Massachusetts, The original documents were variously dated between 1628 and 1735, and the date of copying was November 1750. The copies were marked 'received' the following February. No covering letter could be found and, interestingly, the pages were not numbered The most curious aspect of these papers was that they all related to the affairs of Sir William Phips, a man who achieved fame and fortune by his discovery in 1687 of one of the most richly laden Spanish treasure ships ever to be lost at sea, the Concepción. Forty-six years earlier the vessel had foundered upon a reef off the north coast of Hispaniola, in that part now falling under the jurisdiction of the Dominican Republic, with the loss of some three hundred souls. Phips's discovery of the wreck, and his recovery of twenty-five tons of silver, is generally hailed as one of the great triumphs in the history of treasure-seeking.

Despite the innocuous subject matter of the papers discovered in the archives, two questions immediately arise - (1) Why should anyone in the British government of 1750 be interested in William Phips who had died in 1695, fifty-five years earlier? - (2) Why should these papers be included among documents relating to the settlement of Lunenburg? Furthermore, as the pages were not numbered it is uncertain as whether the sheaf of documents was complete. Correspondence of the period can be found carrying notations such as “You may wish to burn this after reading”, or containing statements like “My orders were given verbally”. One can assume that the recipients of more compromising documents, and those of a far more interesting nature, were instructed to “Burn after reading”. What else might have been in those documents relating to William Phips? We are never likely to know. However, we can be certain that if there was anything else, especially if it related to treasure, then it is safely under the lock and key of the British government. Despite protestations to the contrary there remains a vast body of restricted documentation in the archives. Some is understood to date back several centuries.

Why should this sheaf of papers be included in files relating to the settlement of Lunenburg? Lunenburg lies only ten miles as the crow flies from Oak Island. If a great treasure had been lost upon Oak Island, as geological evidence suggests, then the concern of the British government would have been perfectly natural - no government likes people digging up treasure they believe belongs to them! The proximity of Lunenburg to Oak Island might have been too close for comfort as far as their lordships in London were concerned! The third item of archival interest was discovered in the library of the Corps of Royal Engineers at Chatham, Kent, where I had gone convinced of the military nature of the Flood Tunnel. There I was fortunate to encounter the name of William Bontein, a man who had gained a reputation during the war in Flanders of 1747 for his various tunnelling exploits which had resulted in considerable loss to the enemy. A brief note stated this of Bontein - “.....Annapolis via Camborne dismissed from June 1, 1752 and thence 4/- a day more out of money for works under order of June 12, 1752.” What this means, in modern-day parlance, is that Bontein was taken out of active service and dispatched first to Camborne (Cornwall), and then to Annapolis, and paid an extra four shillings per day out of money budgeted for a specific project. His normal rate of pay was 5/- per day. This increase, therefore, represented an 80 percent pay raise - a substantial increase!

Camborne is a centre of Cornish tin mining, and the order for Bontein to proceed to Annapolis via Camborne suggests the likely purpose of his visit was to recruit or pick up a group of previously selected miners. It also raises the question of ongoing transportation. An immigrant ship, the Gale (90 tons - master Thomas Casson), departed Rotterdam on June 5th 1752, cleared formalities at Gosport (Portsmouth) on June 13th, and arrived at Falmouth, the nearest port to Camborne, on June 28th. Almost a month elapsed between Bontein receiving his orders in London and the arrival of the Gale at Falmouth This period would have been sufficient for Bontein to travel to Cornwall and prepare men and equipment for the ongoing voyage. The Gale sailed four days later on July 2nd, 1752 bound for Halifax, Nova Scotia, where it arrived on September 15th. The voyage took 110 days, longer than usual, with 29 deaths during the passage.

The European agent for the British government, John Dick, was to grumble later that 20 bed  places were vacant when the Gale left Rotterdam. It may be deduced that this space was taken by Bontein, his Cornish miners, and their tools.

In 1752, Halifax was being actively settled with a view to establishing it as a centre of British military power. A year earlier Governor Cornwallis had written “Annapolis is of no consequence compared to Halifax” and, militarily-speaking, Cornwallis was probably correct. Therefore, it would be reasonable to expect that Bontein, with his tunnelling expertise and skilled miners, would be directed there instead of to Annapolis, whose days were numbered as a centre of colonial administration. However, at Annapolis there was another engineer, older and more senior to Bontein. His name was William Cowley, and he held the post of chief engineer for Nova Scotia. Cowley was a stone mason by profession, but had gained the confidence of his superiors in constructing wharves and maritime defence works while at Minorca in the Mediterranean. He had been sent to Annapolis in 1743, arriving in time to help bolster the fort’s defences against French and Indian attacks.

Though Bontein and Cowley may be considered skilled military engineers in their respective fields of tunnelling and maritime works, neither had much seniority in the overall ranking of the Corps of Sappers and Miners as then constituted. In fact their status was quite lowly, and neither can be expected to have held a position whereby they could initiate projects of any great duration or cost. There was only one engineer in Britain who would have held the respect of government, been privy to its confidences, and possessed the necessary authority to initiate measures to construct the Flood Tunnel as we understand it today, and to whom Bontein and Cowley were directly answerable - that man was Colonel Thomas Lascelles, Chief Engineer of Great Britain.

Individually, the items of archival evidence discovered thus far cannot be considered to represent ‘the smoking gun’ as popularly imagined, whereby the ‘mystery’ of Oak Island can be considered truly and properly ‘solved’. However, collectively, the evidence hints of the following circumstantial links, and merits consideration as representing the ‘smoke from the smoking gun’. Firstly, the name of Sir William Phips may be linked to the Oak Island treasure; secondly, the treasure was lost through geological circumstances (see Part IV), and is Spanish in origin; thirdly, that the British government was sufficiently concerned about the treasure to initiate construction of the Flood Tunnel in order to ensure the lost treasure remained inviolate.

Part VI: Sir William Phips the Forgotten Treasure Seeker.

Some years ago I found myself on the deck of a ferry in Hamilton Harbour, Bermuda, standing alongside an attractive lady. We entered into conversation, and part of our dialogue followed along these lines:  

Me (curious): What do you do? She (not answering the question): My husband's the Governor of Massachusetts.

Me (excited): Really! You must know all about Sir William Phips.

She (bemused): Who was he?

Me (dismayed): He was one of the greatest adventurers and treasure-seekers of New England, who later became a governor of Massachusetts.

Born in the backwoods of Maine, William Phips (1651-95) rose to fame and fortune by his discovery of the wreck of the Concepción, one of Spain's richest galleons ever to be lost at sea. From this wreck he recovered twenty-five tons of silver, a feat for which he was knighted by King James of England. The saga of his endurance in searching for the wreck, his great triumph over adversity, is a thrilling tale, one that should capture the imagination of all, irrespective of age or sex, for it truly is one of the great epics in the history of treasure-seeking. That his treasure should be coveted for the purpose of revolution, and that he should become involved in political intrigue adds spice to that tale. And, as a portion of that treasure can be concluded as lost upon Oak Island (and still awaits recovery) the appeal is heightened, especially as that loss took place under tragic circumstances.

There is some uncertainty as to when the parents of William Phips arrived in the New World, but it is likely to have been shortly after 1639. James and Mary Phips settled on the banks of the Sheepscot River, Maine, and out of the primeval wilderness they began to carve their own scrap of God's green earth. It was claimed by Cotton Mather, the first biographer and friend of William Phips, that Mary Phips gave birth to no less than twenty-six children. It is difficult to subscribe to this claim, not because of the numbers involved, but to the fact that later biographers and researchers have only been able to trace six of the Phips children, three boys and three girls.

James Phips died soon after William's birth, and Mary Phips married her husband's partner, John White. She was to have yet another eight children by him so, perhaps, there is substance to Mather's claim. Undoubtedly there were many children around the tiny settlement, regardless of the actual number. William's birth took place on February 2, 1651, and mid-winter was not a good time for a frontierswoman to give birth in an isolated settlement. In a wooden cabin, where icicles festooned the walls, where windows were boarded up, chinks stuffed with straw or rag to keep out the freezing blasts, and where the only light came from smoky oil-lamps or an equally smoky fire, this is where she had to give birth. If later behaviour is any indication William would have been a lusty babe, as he was described in later years as being of vocal and bellicose disposition.

He has also been described as pushy, though one would hesitate to infer from this that his was a premature birth. From such an inauspicious start William Phips was to rise, if only briefly, to fame and fortune. What sort of man was William Phips? The Dictionary of American Biography says this of him: “In commercial matters he stood for the old free-trade policy, thwarted the customs officials at every turn, connived at piracy, and neglected to preserve the king’s share in condemnations....

Socially Sir William seems always to have been at a disadvantage. A ‘self-made’ man, he made a display of fraternizing with ship’s carpenters and former friends of lowly station, a trait as irritating to the aristocracy as his pompous manner or the undignified outbursts of temper with which he met opposition to his will. At times he could not resist resorting to brute force.” This very unflattering summary of William Phips's character contains a great deal of truth, but like most character assessments does not tell the whole story. Ships’ captains had to contend with riotous and unruly crews, some of mutinous disposition, and it is known that Phips, on at least one occasion, was faced with mutiny that he put down by his sheer size (for he was a big man) and his personality. Apart from the more rambunctious members of his crew there were others who sailed with him on each of his three notable voyages connected with the Concepción - the first in the Rose of Algeree in an unfruitful search for the wreck; the second in the James and Mary when the wreck was found; and the third in the Good Luck, when the wreck was worked a second time. It is obvious he commanded not only respect, but also loyalty. Was William Phips ever a pirate? The truth of this will likely never be known. He was apprenticed for four years as a carpenter in a local shipbuilding yard, and after completing his indentures set his mind on becoming a shipwright. He moved to Boston where he soon married, but returned home with a contract to build a ship. Investigations have determined the vessel he built was 117 tons, fifty feet along the keel, and eighteen feet or so across the beam. It was a good contract for a budding shipwright.

Though the ship was completed there were numerous petty claims filed against Phips, and for eighteen months he was hounded through the courts by the Boston lawyers. During that period he had few friends and fewer financial resources, and he and his family were reduced to penury. There is little wonder, therefore, that from then on he held a grudge against Boston society, a grudge he held to the end of his life. With only his brawn and his carpenter's skills to offer, what might he have done? A proficient ship's carpenter in the seventeenth century was an exceedingly valuable member of any crew, especially when likely to engage in hostilities on the high seas either as pirate or privateer. Next to the captain and the first mate, the carpenter ranked as a senior member of any ship's company. With a New England coast rife with pirates from Boston to New York and beyond, William Phips would have soon found himself a good berth in which to make a “good voyage”.  

Where is William Phips likely to have gone? It is often stated his ‘trading ventures’ took him to Newfoundland and the West Indies. Equally attractive may have been a lengthy voyage to the Indian Ocean. However, his best prospects as a freebooter lay in the West Indies in the form of Spanish vessels, for this was a time when Spain was weak and irresolute while the English pirates were strong and determined. Somewhere in the Caribbean William Phips learned about the wreck of the Concepción and vowed to win its riches.

Aware his reputation back home in Boston was tarnished, and the necessary funds to finance the search would not be forthcoming, Phips went to London. There he was audacious enough to make the connections that resulted in him being given a vessel, the Rose of Algeree by King Charles II. The ship sailed from London in September 1683. It was a bad voyage from the very start, marred by Phips's constant abuse of his position, for having been given a ‘king's ship’ he assumed airs of arrogance. He flaunted himself in a pompous and unseemly way at every opportunity and, perhaps, this was natural, especially after he took the ship into Boston, for had he not risen in rank and station, or so he believed, from his humble backwoods birth? Was this not a ‘poke in the eye’ for those who had treated him and his family so badly in the past? Yes, his arrogance can be forgiven, even though it was ill-founded.

The voyage of the Rose was a failure. The ship plowed the ocean without a glimpse of the boiling surf and craggy reef upon which the Concepción had reportedly foundered. Phips took the ship back to London in June 1685 to find a new king upon the throne, James II, and James thought little of a king's ship having been given to go “fishing for treasure in the Indies”. Phips was promptly thrown into the Tower of London while an investigation was made into the details of the voyage. However, Phips was not confined long.

Released from prison Phips spent six months touting his ideas around the nobility of London looking for deep pockets to finance a second voyage. He was fortunate to find a jovial duke with a love of gambling, and enough resources, to assume a major stake in the new venture. That man was Christopher Monck, Second Duke of Albemarle. In September 1686 two ships set sail from London to renew the search for the wreck. The larger was the James and Mary (200 tons), the smaller the Henry (40 tons). Phips was to return to London nine months later, in June 1687, with 25 tons of silver. It was an historic voyage that, even now, is hailed as one of the great triumphs in fishing treasure from the depths of ocean. Several books have been written of the voyage, and a selection of these are referenced below.

This successful voyage made everyone rich. Even the humblest members of the crews profited beyond their expectations as the duke and his fellow stakeholders were generous indeed, and William Phips was knighted for his achievement in winning such largesse. He was the first colonial North American to be so honoured. A return to the wreck was immediately mounted, and a flotilla of ships assembled. It sailed in September 1687. Surprisingly enough, the Duke and Duchess of Albemarle accompanied the flotilla and took all their belongings with them, as well as their staff, for the duke had requested, and had been granted, the post of Governor of Jamaica.

This was a most unusual move. It prompts the question as to why a fun-loving aristocrat, who had recently become exceeding rich, who loved high society with its civilized pleasures of wining, dining, gambling and so forth, should want to exchange these for an uncertain future in the tropics? But these were years of conspiracy against the increasingly autocratic King James, and public animosity was mounting. All Phips’s backers, including the duke, were partisan to William, Prince of Orange, the rival of James and a contender for the throne of England. In fact the prince and the duke were old gambling chums having, in the past, bet on cock-fighting, boxing and horse-racing, which were some of the more respectable sports of the period (they also likely participated in some of the less respectable!). Also, waiting in Holland, and having the ear of the prince, was one of the shrewdest politicians of the age, Lord Charles Mordaunt, a man who for years had been advocating an invasion of England and the overthrow of King James.

The return visit of 1687-1688 to the wreck of the Concepción is full of enigmas. Why was no treasure officially reported as recovered? Why did Lord Mordaunt arrive at the wreck site with Dutch men-o’-war? Why did the Duke of Albemarle take himself to Jamaica and assume the post of Governor? Why did Phips, in his ship, Good Luck, depart the wreck site alone, the same day as Lord Mordaunt with his warships (May 8, 1688), and sail to an undisclosed destination in North America? Why were preparations for the invasion of England only begun in earnest after Mordaunt’s return to Holland? Where did William, Prince of Orange, obtain the finances for a vast invasion force to conquer England? He was the bulwark of the Protestant cause in Europe, and had been fighting Louis of France for a quarter of a century - his war chest was depleted! The only rational answer to these questions, is that the Phips treasure won from the wreck on this return visit was a significant contribution to the finances of revolution, a revolution that dramatically altered the politics of Europe and North America by the invasion of England in November that year.

A connection has been made between Oak Island and the treasure won during the final visit of Phips to the wreck of the Concepción (see Part V). On its discovery the wreck of the Concepción had yielded treasure in the form of silver only, and from this it can be deduced that it was the bow section Phips discovered, as we now know the Concepción had broken apart on foundering, the stern section having been swept over the reef to sink 500 feet away. It was the stern that contained the greater riches, where a fortune awaited the divers, a fortune in gold, silver, precious stones, plate, and Chinese trade goods. Some of these items were of a nature that could not be turned readily into specie to finance the massive invasion force being planned for the conquest of England - 40,000 armed men, 600 vessels including 50 men-o'-war, and overwhelming numbers of artillery and horse.

Much of the Phips treasure would have raised more than a few eyebrows if returned to Holland. King James's ears would have been soon alerted to the fact that treason was afoot, and the result would have been an orgy of blood-letting across the length and breadth of England. The king’s hangmen would have been profitably employed for many a year! So, it was the gold and silver that financed the invasion, while the rest of the treasure was quietly consigned to the imagined security of the depths. This time on land! It was to be lost through a quirk of nature. The reasons for the loss of the treasure have been outlined in an earlier article (Part IV).

This loss was not due to any lack of ingenuity on the part of Phips but to geology, a science that was not even in its infancy at the time the treasure was cached. Unwittingly, he blundered into a geological scenario that resulted in disaster underground. The nature of the event would have confounded Phips and his contemporaries, its circumstances having only become appreciated in recent years.  More recently the approximate value of the lost treasure has been estimated as about $60 million, mainly in gems of emerald, pearl and lapis lazuli, gold and silver plate, and Chinese trade goods, including Ming china. It is unlikely to contain any major hoard of bullion.

At some future date, the entry on Sir William Phips in the Dictionary of American Biography will be rewritten. It is hoped the revised version will be kinder to his memory. Who knows what nightmares he suffered after the loss of so much wealth, so painstakingly retrieved from the ocean depths only to be lost again, this time in an element more unfriendly than the sea.

It is also hoped the entry will be longer, for there is so much to tell of this ‘forgotten buccaneer’ Books which relate directly to the treasure-seeking activities of Sir William Phips include The Treasure of the Concepción by Peter Earle(1980), The Hispaniola Treasure by Cyrus Karraker (1941); as well as The Golden Reef of Sir William Phips (2005) and The Oak Island Treasure: The Case for Sir William Phips (2006) by Graham Harris. Only the last two connect the treasure won from the wreck of the Concepción to Oak Island and the revolution in England.

Part VII: Military Intervention.

No government likes losing large amounts of wealth, even if that wealth is in the form of treasure obtained from an erstwhile enemy (Spain), and lies buried in the bowels of earth in the far-off colony of another enemy (France). Perhaps it was the French, who made it easy for the English, by declaring war as tangible demonstration of their opposition to the overthrow of King James by William, Prince of Orange (now King William III). This new war between these two old  adversaries was to last eight years, and range both sides of the Atlantic.  In 1690, the year after the loss of the treasure, two attacks were made on Canada by forces under the command of William Phips. The first was against Port Royal (now Annapolis Royal), the second against Quebec. Any clandestine attempts to recover the lost treasure, following the catastrophic disaster in the Money Pit, would have undoubtedly failed. A concentrated and prolonged recovery effort was needed, one which necessitated a stronger and more obvious British presence. This required taking the territory by force of arms!

The attack and capture of Port Royal (May 1690) was a tawdry affair lasting a few days, the defenders being hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. That at Quebec (October 1690) took longer, it being claimed the French were the victors. And so it might seem! However, the tactics adopted by Phips suggest a more devious strategy behind the assault.

The consensus of military analysts is that the attack on Quebec was made too late in the season, that the promise of arms and ammunition from England did not arrive, that progress up the St. Lawrence River was hampered by contrary winds and lack of pilotage. Despite this, Phips and his men expended much effort on raiding and pillaging French settlements as they slowly progressed upriver. Military commonsense suggests that if the capture of Quebec was the prime purpose of the expedition then Phips would have delayed sailing until the promised arms and ammunition arrived, even if this meant waiting till the following year, especially in view of the lateness of the season. Moreover, Phips would have made his way upriver as swiftly, silently, and as stealthily as possible, contrary winds or no, intent on conserving his resources of men, ammunition, and supplies until he was anchored off Quebec.

Phips was no rash or foolish commander. He may have been overbold and impatient at times, but he was not stupid. Even if he had managed to capture Quebec through a stroke of good fortune, he could never have held it during the approaching winter. His men were weakened and ravaged by disease, his supplies exhausted. These considerations imply the existence of an ulterior motive, that of deceiving the French into thinking British ambitions were focused on Quebec. From this standpoint Phips’s assault on Quebec can be considered successful, for it prevented a new battlefield developing in Acadia. For seven years afterwards the British could come and go as they pleased and, undoubtedly, spent time and effort in attempting to recover the lost treasure.

In their attempts at recovery the British would have drawn upon the engineering skills available in both Britain and Holland, skills which lay in the hands of military engineers. It is interesting to note that King William ordered a company of engineers to be formed which would be under his direct control. King William’s Company of Engineers, as it became known, was paid by special warrant, and little is known about its activities. It was officially constituted on January 1st, 1696, and disbanded a few years later on 25th March, 1700, though some of its members are likely to have been involved in activities sanctioned by the king prior to its actual formation. Interestingly enough, the two most senior officers, Holcroft Blood and Edward Paget, were absent at the time the Company was officially constituted. Blood eventually made his appearance in October, 1696 (9 months later) and Paget in April, 1697 (16 months later). Where had they been? The lengthy absence of these two most senior officers on the occasion of formal constitution of King William’s Company of Engineers, holding the ranks of Commander and 1st Engineer respectively, is considered peculiarly noteworthy. This warrants further research into their possible whereabouts during the period. It is to be regretted no archival evidence has yet been found connecting members of King William’s Company of Engineers to Oak Island. In fact the archives appear devoid of any information relating to the Company, or to early British occupation of Nova Scotia in1690-97.

Those military engineers, identified as possibly being involved in treasure recovery attempts before Acadia was returned to France in 1697 by the Treaty of Ryswick, are - Sir Martin Beckman, Colonel Wolfgang William Römer, Colonel Holcroft Blood, Colonel Jacob Richards, Edward Paget (1st Engineer) and Talbot Edwardes. It may be noted in passing that Holcroft Blood was the son of ‘Colonel’ Thomas Blood, the man who stole the Crown jewels from the Tower of London in 1671, and who later became the ‘spymaster’ for King Charles II.

It is by no means certain, but the first attempt at treasure recovery likely would have been to remove all timbers and floating debris from the shaft, and to attempt to dewater it by pumping or bailing, perhaps with greater manpower or improved equipment than used previously. However, it can be predicted that such an approach would have proved abortive, as direct communication would have existed between the base of the Money Pit and the sea, via the systemic fractures and solution channels contained within the soluble gypsum/anhydrite bedrock.

This is the geological scenario which resulted in the loss of the treasure (Part IV).  A second possible attempt would have been to excavate another shaft in close proximity to the Money Pit and, after the gypsum/anhydrite bedrock was encountered, to have dug a tunnel towards the treasure. This too would have failed just as abysmally, with the workings becoming inundated as soon as the new tunnel encountered any old workings, or solution channels within the gypsum/anhydrite to which those workings were connected.

Further attempts are likely to have been made involving digging shafts, presumably at increasing distances from the original Money Pit and, perhaps, to deeper levels in the bedrock in the hope that a tunnel could be excavated under the treasure chambers, and by means of a raise, i.e. a short shaft excavated upwards, enable recovery of the treasure to be effected. To what extent any of these may have succeeded is, of course, not known, though even a partial success is doubtful under the circumstances. Sooner or later fissures, cavities, solution channels, or even the treasure chambers themselves would have been encountered that were in direct communication with the sea. The results would be an inevitable flooding of the workings.

Drilling activity over the past several decades has disclosed the presence of numerous cavities within the soluble gypsum/anhydrite bedrock. It has been tempting to assume these to have been man-made, and purposely excavated by those who cached the treasure. However, some caution is advised as cavities may fall into a number of categories, a major consideration being the presence, or otherwise, of archaeological features such as wood or man-made objects. These categories are:

(1) Natural, being gravel-clogged features pre-dating the onset of the Ice Age. 

2) Natural, being solution features post-dating the end of the Ice Age 10,000 years ago.

(3) Man-made for the purpose of treasure concealment.

(4) Man-made during treasure recovery attempts in the period 1690-97.

(5) Created as a consequence of past pumping activity in the post 1795 period.

During their period on Oak Island (1866-67) the Halifax Company carried out their activities under conditions of secrecy. Such secrecy on the part of treasure-seekers is understandable. However, the lack of reliable records during their tenure has led to a presumption that various tunnels encountered by later treasure-seekers, which cannot be identified with other groups, can be attributed to the Halifax Company (see Part III). Such presumptions are not valid, the origins of those tunnels may well lie with the military engineers of King William’s Company of Engineers.

Part VIII: The Search for Treasure 1900 to 1966.

Following Part III of this series a departure was made to the chronological account of treasure seeking on Oak Island. In1900 the Oak Island Treasure Company ceased their activities, and nine years elapsed before work was resumed by the Old Gold Salvage and Wrecking Company under Harry Bowdoin of New York. Bowdoin was convinced the treasure on the island had been hidden by Captain Kidd, who went to the gallows in 1701 asserting he had ‘buried his treasure upon an island in the Indies’. There are many today who still believe like Bowdoin.

Bowdoin had never visited Oak Island before he commenced work in August 1909, calling his quarters Camp Kidd. He boasted that ‘modern machinery and engineering science will solve in a jiffy the difficulties Captain Kidd made to guard his treasure’. His first act at the Money Pit was to remove all timber debris, and use a clam bucket to clean out the Pit to 113 feet.

He then drilled from surface, and the drill penetrated various thicknesses of gravel and different coloured layers of clay before apparently terminating on bedrock at 167 feet. Twenty-seven other holes confirmed bedrock surface between depths of 155 and 171 feet in the vicinity of the Money Pit, and this is consistent with more recent work. Frederick Blair, the holder of the lease, squabbled with Bowdoin, perhaps as a consequence of the latter’s boastful assertions not being realized, and refused to extend the lease agreement. Work again ground to a halt in 1911.

A number of adventurers were attracted to the island between 1912 and 1931 but no major excavation work or search for the treasure appears to have been conducted. It was in 1931 that Frederick Blair and William Chappell excavated a new shaft at the Money Pit site, though it seems there was some difference of opinion as to the true location. The new shaft became known as the Chappell Shaft which terminated at a depth of 155 feet, but which was extended by Hedden (1936), and later by Hamilton (1941) to an overall depth of 167 feet. It was the findings from this shaft (discussed in Part IV) which supplied evidence to conclude a major catastrophe had befallen the depositors of the treasure in the form of a ‘blow out’, whereby the treasure was lost. That evidence will not be repeated.

Though some exploratory drilling was performed in the vicinity of the Money Pit in the intervening years, it was not until 1936 that any significant excavation was continued, this time under Gilbert Hedden. Hedden’s first act was to dewater and reinstate the cribbing to the Chappell Shaft, deepen it to 160 feet, and do some lateral probing with a drill-rig. Some bits of oak were the only findings of interest. The following year (1937) he commenced work on a new shaft to the northeast of the first. This became known as the Hedden Shaft.

Almost immediately old timber work was encountered, apparently in good condition. The excavation was bottomed out at 125 feet, and borings within the shaft extended the total depth penetrated to 167 feet. The main findings were:- 

(1) At 50 feet old drill casings - at 65 feet an old miner’s whale oil lamp - at 80 feet an old oak stump - at 93 feet an old collapsed tunnel with a band of putty in the vicinity.

(2) At 104 feet a tunnel was encountered 3 feet 10 inches wide by 6 feet 4 inches high cribbed with timbers of oak and hemlock (Blair gave the opinion that this was a section of tunnel excavated about 1866 and was not part of the original Money Pit/Flood Tunnel construction).

(3) Hard sand was encountered in the drill holes from 125 feet to 148 feet with oak timbers of varying thickness being penetrated between 148 and 157 feet.

It would seem the Hedden Shaft did not encounter the original Flood Tunnel. Hedden’s excavation work shortly came to an end, but he is credited with making an unusual find of considerable importance. At Smith’s Cove he discovered ancient-looking timbers projecting above beach level at low tide. On removing a few feet of sand the timbers were shown to be gently inclined to the horizontal, about 15 inches in diameter and four feet apart. Each horizontal timber was notched, and cross-pieces pegged with trennels (wooden pins) held the horizontals together. He concluded it to have been an old ramp or slipway. 

Another discovery of Hedden’s was the existence of a triangle of stones and two drilled rocks near the beach along South Shore, the closest stretch of beach to the Money Pit. Apparently Blair had noticed these some years earlier, but had not attached much significance to them. The stone triangle has attracted a great deal of speculation regarding its purpose, but in reality all the triangle seems to do is to point the way towards the Money Pit for anyone landing or skirting the southern shore of the island. When the island was densely forested this may have had some usefulness.

Hedden had read a book, recently published by Harold Wilkins on Captain Kidd, which included a map of an island purporting to represent the island upon which Captain Kidd had buried his treasure before going to the gallows in 1701. Titled Captain Kidd and His Skeleton Island the book is well worth reading by aficionados of piracy, however the map reproduced by Wilkins has been discredited since by map experts. Nevertheless, the longer Hedden scrutinized Wilkins’s map the more he convinced himself of the link between the island and Captain Kidd.

The map reproduced by Wilkins in his book appears to be based upon what are now known as the Kidd-Palmer charts. Between 1929 and 1934 four charts had been discovered by Hubert Palmer, a collector of pirate relics, which he considered to have positive links to Kidd’s ‘island’. Palmer, a recluse by nature, jealously guarded these charts, and rarely displayed them to anyone, least of all any who he believed might have ulterior motives, and certainly not to anyone writing with a view to gaining publicity. Some doubt must be cast, therefore, upon whether Wilkins’s map, which had such an impact upon Hedden, was based upon Palmer’s charts, or whether it was just pure fiction. We will never know, especially as the Kidd-Palmer charts disappeared in 1959 under circumstances as strange as those under which they had first appeared.

Palmer never attempted to profit from possession of the charts. However, he appears to have been convinced of their veracity, believing them to represent an island in the Sequeiras, a group of islands in the Philippine Sea which appears and disappears above sea level with bewildering frequency. He planned a visit to the East Indies, but was prevented by the outbreak of World War II For a full discussion of the Kidd-Palmer charts see Treasure and Intrigue: The Legacy of Captain Kidd.

There is little doubt the Kidd-Palmer charts were bogus. The fourth chart includes terms such as ‘China Sea’, ‘Lagoon’, ‘Turtles’ and Reefs’, terms difficult to associate with Oak Island, as well as ‘Anchorage’ and ‘Smugglers Cove’, and the word ‘Skeleton’ included in the margin.

Readers familiar with Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure island will recall his infamous Skeleton Island had a ‘Capt. Kidd’s Anchorage’ and a ‘Rum Cove’, rum being a commodity long associated with smugglers.

It is obvious forgers cannot flaunt their talents by appending their name or initials to their works. Often, however, they are arrogant enough to leave their mark. In the case of the fourth chart careful scrutiny of the hachures discloses the initials ‘TA’ towards the west end of the island. ‘TA’ has since been identified as having worked in the Maps Department of the British  Museum Library over the period when the charts were discovered. There would appear to be an opportunity for further investigation of his activities.

Hedden’s activities were followed by those of Edward Hamilton who, in 1938 did animmense amount of drilling from within the Hedden Shaft, cleaned out the Chappell Shaftconcluding it was five feet away from the original Money Pit, and extended the Hedden Shaftanother thirty feet (from 125 to 155 feet). One of the inconsistencies he noted in extending thelatter was “the presence of stones that were not native to that substratum of subsoil”. In Part III  evidence was present of an underground disaster, in the form of a ‘blow-out’, by quoting from Frederick Blair’s report of 1931 - “At about 150 ft. we commenced to uncover broken-up pieces of stone, the nature of which no person can here identify. They have the appearance of the so called cement which was drilled through in previous years, and yet it does not resemble it in all respects. These stones first appeared in the disturbed portion of the Pit, a chunk or two and gradually spread over the whole area. As the men dug deeper, the bottom became largely covered with this stuff in broken pieces”. There is an obvious similarity between the two descriptions. It is a pity neither Blair nor Hamilton identified the rock fragments they encountered in their separate diggings. As mentioned earlier we now know from deep drilling that the Money Pit is underlain by gypsum/anhydrite bedrock, a relatively soft rock vulnerable to solution.

Hamilton also extended the Chappell Shaft from 160 to 167 feet where bedrock was encountered, though he does not appear to have described the nature of the bedrock, or if it was identical to the ‘stones not native to the substratum’ he reported in the Hedden Shaft. However, exciting evidence was encountered in some drilling, which penetrated to below 200 feet, when he recovered chips of oak. This was the first tangible evidence of man-made workings within the bedrock.

Another important discovery was made by Hamilton. He introduced dye into the shafts at the Money Pit, and this dye appeared in a most unexpected location about 300 feet off South Shore Cove. This immediately led to speculation that there was a lower ‘Flood Tunnel’ designed  to prevent treasure recovery. However, since we now know the area of the Money Pit to be underlain by soluble gypsum/anhydrite it is more likely the dye tests revealed the existence of solution channels within the bedrock. These might be natural in origin, or have resulted from pumping activities on the island carried out in the search for treasure, whereby fissures within the bedrock are enlarged by solution (see Part VII).

Blair died in 1951, and various legal issues deterred treasure-seeking activity on the island until 1955, the rights to treasure trove eventually passing into the hands of Melbourne Chappell, the son of William Chappell. A lot of drilling was done, which penetrated to depths of up to 212 feet. This disclosed the presence of cavities within the bedrock from which were recovered pieces of wood and coconut fibre, exciting and tangible by themselves but not very conclusive regarding the existence of treasure.

In 1959 Robert Restall and his family arrived on Oak Island and worked for five years. It was a family operation, their work was slow and painful and, ultimately, was marred by tragedy. 

The family’s experiences are documented in The Oak Island Obsession by Lee Lamb, a daughter of Robert Restall. It is an excellent book giving a fascinating insight into the hardships the family faced during their period on the island, and is highly recommended to aficionados of Oak Island.

Restall appears to have concentrated his activities at Smith’s Cove in an attempt to halt the inflow of water into the Money Pit via the Flood Tunnel, or so it is often believed. This approach is somewhat mystifying in view of Hamilton having managed to attain bedrock in both the Chappell and Hedden Shafts without undue difficulty, suggesting the water inflow into the Money Pit via the Flood Tunnel had already been brought under control. Also, by means of his dye tests he had established a water connection between the Money Pit and South Shore.

Restall’s excavations at Smith’s Cove, however, disclosed details of the filter beds and drains in the form of eel grass, coconut fibre, and the drains themselves. He was unable to locate the point at which the separate feeder drains entered the Flood Tunnel, and resorted to excavating shafts to locate the Tunnel. This was to have tragic consequences as Robert Restall, his son and two helpers died in a 27 foot deep shaft in 1965 after they were overcome by carbon monoxide fumes from a pump. Out of all the adventurers who have pitted their wits against the vagaries of Oak Island over the ages, Restall’s endeavours must rank the saddest.

In 1965 Robert Dunfield, a geologist from California, entered into the search. His first act was to construct a causeway to the island with heavy earth-moving equipment, and the use of this equipment became the mainstay of his approach to the search for treasure. Once the causeway had been completed he excavated a trench on the beach of South Shore in an attempt to intercept and block the presumed second flood tunnel that had been suggested by Hamilton’s dye tests.  The trench was 20 feet deep and 200 feet long. In the process Dunfield encountered an old backfilled shaft 8 feet in diameter, which he re-excavated to a depth of 54 feet. There is good reason to believe this old shaft was dug as part of a first attempt to link the Money Pit and South Shore with a flood tunnel, since evidence revealed by Dan Blankenship a year later, when he exhumed the shaft to a greater depth, points to quicksand conditions having been encountered by the originators of the shaft. Anyone planning to excavate a flood tunnel would certainly attempt the shorter route first. As the actual Flood Tunnel linking the Money Pit and Smith’s Cove is 500 feet long, significantly greater than the 320 feet between the Money Pit and South Shore, it may be concluded the latter, i.e. the first tunnel to be attempted, had to be aborted. Other details pointing to this conclusion will be presented later.

As no obvious ‘flood tunnel’ had been encountered in the trench excavation Dunfield moved his equipment to the Money Pit itself. There he engaged upon what can only be described as witless work in excavating a ‘glory hole’100 feet wide at the top and almost 140 feet deep.  Thankfully, he allowed the timber cribbing of the Chappell and Hedden Shafts to remain.

Following winter rains the hole collapsed, and was later backfilled and graded. Some skeletal timbers protruding above ground surface are the sole remnants. Dunfield’s last earth-moving endeavours were at the location of the Cave-In Pit (see Part III). Here he excavated a huge crater 108 feet deep. Whether or not his excavation encountered the Flood Tunnel linking the Money Pit and Smith’s Cove is uncertain because of his insensitive approach.

Apart from his somewhat brutal approach to excavation Dunfield can be credited with being the first to determine the nature of the bedrock underlying the Money Pit. He put down a number of boreholes to depths of 190 feet. In one borehole his drill is reported to have encountered a 40 foot deep cavity, and to have recovered samples of what resembled cement in appearance, but which proved on testing to be gypsum. According to newspaper reports of March 1966, Dunfield claimed to have encountered an underground chamber between 139 and 184 feet below surface that was roofed with wood and floored with iron. More recent investigations, conducted by professional soil exploration engineers, indicate the surface of the gypsum bedrock to be highly irregular with massive blocks of bedrock interspersed with significantly softer soils.   Many reports of cavities at higher levels, by Dunfield and others, from the falling of drill rods is more likely to reflect the presence of soft soils rather than disclose actual cavities within bedrock.

Part IX: The Blankenship Years.

Of all the people who have sought treasure on Oak Island it is Dan Blankenship who must surely take credit for tenacity in the pursuit, having dedicated more than four decades of his life to the search. In 1966 he joined forces with David Tobias, and during his long tenure a number of significant discoveries have been made. This is not the place to review the inevitable ‘ups and downs’ faced by Blankenship during his long spell on the island. Suffice it to say that there were many. In more recent years new owners, working in collaboration with Blankenship, have imparted new vigour to the search. The direction and focus of much of Blankenship’s work has not been publicized and, necessarily, the following must be considered far from complete. After all, searching for treasure is a secretive exercise at the best of times!

As stated in the previous article, Dunfield’s first act on the island was to excavate a trench 20 feet deep and 200 feet long along South Shore, in the hope of encountering and blocking a flood tunnel believed present. In the process he discovered an old abandoned shaft due south of the Money Pit, which was opened up to a depth of 54 feet. The shaft was 8 feet diameter, and its circular shape was clearly evident from pick marks in the hard glacial till through which it had been dug. A year later (1966) Blankenship deepened this old shaft with a clamshell bucket extending it to a depth of 90 feet. At 60 feet a hand wrought nail was found, and between 65 and 77 feet alternating layers of red sandy soil and blue clay were penetrated, the layering and consistency suggesting the layers had been deliberately placed and tamped into position. Below the ‘layered soils’ 8 feet of black muck was found, beneath which were 5 feet of rounded granite boulders in a ‘pool of black stagnant water’. The excavation could not be deepened further because of caving ground.

Tunnellers, without exception, prefer to excavate on an upslope grade. This permits the face to drain freely of any water encountered, and for spoil to be more readily removed. Because South Shore is closer to the Money Pit than any other shore location, it would seem logical that the purpose of the shaft was to commence excavation of a flood tunnel from the beach towards the Money Pit. The necessity for an adequate upslope grade during tunnelling, say five percent, would require the depth of the shaft on South Shore Beach to be at least 90 feet, assuming the tunnel was intended to intersect the Money Pit at the same depth as the Flood Tunnel linking the Money Pit to Smith’s Cove (which may be concluded as representing a second, more successful attempt). It is obvious difficulties were experienced with unstable ground conditions (as similarly experienced by Blankenship) and the caving ground required measures to stabilize the situation.

A somewhat archaic expedient under such circumstances, but one that only recently became superceded, was to use horse dung, the presence of abundant fibre in the dung helping to stabilize the soil and render it more resistant to the flow of water. Horse dung was once used in the stabilization of borehole walls where conditions of caving or collapse had to be overcome.

Whether there was a sufficient number of horses on the island at the time to provide a requisite amount of dung is unknown, but there was certainly an adequate supply of peat in the adjacent swamp. It is admittedly speculative, but the first stage in stabilizing the shaft bottom would have been to lower down bales of peat, or bags of horse dung, weighted down with heavy boulders.  The 13 feet of boulders and black muck, as revealed by the 1966 excavations, are thus concluded as representing the lower sealing to the shaft bottom. A more permanent top seal could then be added in order for the tunnellers to recommence their activities in tunnelling towards the Money Pit, albeit at a reduced grade. The overlying 12 feet of ‘layered soils’ is concluded to represent such a seal.

It is a pity no attempt was made to identify the nature of the ‘layered clays’ in the exhumed shaft. The only information we have is Blankenship’s opinion that the ‘red sandy clay’ was believed to better soak up water than the ‘blue clay’. It is likely that at least one of these clays, and possibly both, is Fuller’s Earth, a naturally occurring clay containing a substantial amount of the clay mineral, montmorillonite. The North American equivalent is known as bentonite. Both Fuller’s Earth and bentonite have wide application in the oil and gas drilling industry, and in subsurface construction, because of the expansive nature of the montmorillonite and its effectiveness in retarding the seepage of water. Fuller’s Earth is widely distributed in the British Isles, and large reserves exist in Southern England, where they have been exploited for centuries. A range in colour may be found including ‘red sandy’ and ‘blue’. Plentiful supplies of Fuller’s Earth would have been available to the sappers and miners of the British Army in the eighteenth century.

Whether the stabilization of the South Shore shaft was considered adequate to recommence tunnelling, at a somewhat higher level than originally intended, is, of course, not known. If the seal proved defective then miners could be trapped within any heading being driven towards the Money Pit and, thereby, become entombed. Perhaps the difficulties in the shaft already had taken a toll. Whatever the reasoning an entirely new tunnel must have been conceived, one that would be significantly longer. The engineering behind the Flood Tunnel, linking the Money Pit to Smith’s Cove, will be discussed in the next article.

In 1967 a program of some 45 boreholes into bedrock was executed in close proximity to the Money Pit. The findings were exciting enough to spur further investigation for the next three decades. One of the more fascinating features to emerge was the indication of a soil-filled depression around the base of the Money Pit shaft. The depression, which was roughly circular, extended to about 40 feet below general bedrock surface. Though not concentric with the assumed centre of the shaft the depression encompassed a wider area than the assumed base area of the shaft, and was displaced somewhat towards the sea. The soil-infilling in this depression was not submitted to laboratory analysis. It was described as ‘a grey or blue puddled clay’, which was immediately interpreted as being a man-made seal to close up the treasure-chambers, ‘puddling’ being a technique of bygone years whereby clay was kneaded into a plastic condition, usually by trampling it under foot. However, some doubt must be cast on the term ‘puddled clay’, as it would be difficult to describe a clay as having been ‘puddled’ from an intact bulk sample of the material (unless it was a large enough sample), let alone a handful of scraps from a drill hole.

However, there is another more dramatic explanation to the depression and its soil infilling.  Part IV of this series described the evidence for a catastrophic failure in the Money Pit during first attempts to recover the treasure, the failure having taken the form of a ‘blow out’.  This failure would have been of such a magnitude that future attempts had to be postponed, and eventually abandoned. The cause would undoubtedly have mystified everyone involved at the time. In fact it is only now becoming to be appreciated. The discovery of the depression within the gypsum/anhydrite bedrock, and more or less concentric with the Money Pit itself, suggests the failure was of such violence that the weak bedrock was ripped out in the process and sent rocketing upwards as a plume of debris engulfing the lower regions of the Money Pit. It will be recalled that in Part IV the observations of Blair excavating within the Money Pit were quoted as ‘.....about 150 ft. we commenced to uncover broken-up pieces of stone, the nature of which no person can here identify. They have the appearance of the so-called cement which was drilled through in previous years, and yet it does not resemble it in all respects. These stones first appeared in the disturbed portion of the Pit, a chunk or two and gradually spread over the whole area. As the men dug deeper, the bottom became largely covered with this stuff in broken pieces .....’

Other discoveries arose from this drilling program. Holes in close proximity to the Money Pit suggested a highly irregular bedrock surface below which were man-made tunnels, a seven foot open void being encountered at several locations. In some holes fragments of wood were recovered, one of which, when subjected to radiocarbon analysis, suggested a date of origin of AD1575 ± 85 years (though it should be noted that radiocarbon dating is rarely as accurate as popularly imagined). In another hole a ½ inch thick iron plate was believed to have been penetrated though, regrettably, the disc of metal was lost. Pieces of brass, china, cement (or so it was believed) and more fragments of wood were recovered from within the bedrock. In one hole the bedrock was penetrated from 171 to 189 feet, then through wood to 191 feet, following which there was a 12 foot cavity extending to a depth of 203 feet, from which fragments of more wood, charcoal and clinker were recovered. These findings implied the existence of a close arrangement of cavities (or treasure chambers) roofed with wood and/or iron plate representing evidence of past human activity.

Two detailed drilling programs were initiated, the first carried out by Warnock Hersey in 1969, the second by Golder Associates in 1970. Both programs extended deep into the gypsum/anhydrite bedrock, and defined an extensive system of caverns beneath 20 to 40 feet of bedrock cover and extending up to several hundred feet away from the Money Pit. The caverns were typically 5 to 20 in height. Some of them were partially filled with soil suggesting they could be natural in origin, representing solution features pre-dating the onset of the Ice Age. If the original diggers of the Money Pit had encountered these features after penetrating the bedrock they could have been tempted to re-use them for treasure concealment.

In 1970 an earth cofferdam was constructed to isolate the beach at Smith’s Cove. The resultant excavations gave rise to the discovery of some fascinating artifacts, as well as intriguing evidence relating to an old timber cofferdam. It is obvious the old cofferdam had been used to construct the inlet works to the Flood Tunnel and possibly, also, the seaward end to the tunnel.

The remains of the cofferdam consisted of a horizontal “U” shaped structure constructed of logs, and carrying remnants of inclined timbers marked with Roman numerals, and fixed in place with dowels. The excavations were open for a limited duration (before being inundated by the sea) and did not extend to any great depth. Therefore, it is certain parts of the foundations of the ancient cofferdam were never uncovered. Nevertheless, the constituent elements that were unveiled have been used to reconstruct how the original cofferdam may have looked. This, together with the excavation of the Flood Tunnel, will be discussed in the next article.

The artifacts recovered from the excavations at Smith’s Cove included a heart-shaped stone concluded to have been hand carved; a pair of ancient wrought iron scissors of Spanish-American origin; a small wooden sled (or skip) probably used for removing spoil from the Flood Tunnel; a foot long section of a wrought iron ruler with hand-inscribed inch markings; and various irons, nails, spikes and miscellaneous items, including a caulking tool.

Another interesting feature was discovered by the excavations where it was reported -“The earth towards the shore showed evidence of extensive heat and was burnt deep red with patches of white in layers. Pieces of charcoal and coal were found.” This suggests the presence of a furnace at that particular spot. It will be recalled from Part 1 that the presence of charcoal within the Money Pit concluded the underground workings (especially the Flood Tunnel) to have been ventilated by means of a furnace. The evidence for a furnace at Smith’s Cove suggests the Flood Tunnel was excavated from both ends.

An area of interest was identified by Dan Blankenship about 180 feet northeast of the Money Pit. This was to become known as Borehole 10X. Drilling commenced in 1970 using a six-inch rotary bit, and evidence was found of cavities or loose zones of soil between 140 to 145 feet, and between 160 to 165 feet. Bedrock was encountered at 180 feet (equivalent to 170 feet at the Money Pit because of difference in ground elevation). Within the bedrock a cavity was found at a depth of 230 feet and casing installed. While cleaning out the casing fragments of metal in the form of wire and chain were recovered. As a result the hole was enlarged and lined with 27-inch casing to bedrock, leaving the section within the bedrock uncased, it being intended to pump out the cavity for inspection. Pumping was unsuccessful, the cavity could not be emptied, and the salinity of the discharge water suggested the cavity might be linked to the open sea. Resort was made to using an underwater television camera, the lack of clarity in the resultant images have proved somewhat controversial, suggesting to some the existence of treasure chests.

A diver was sent down to inspect the cavity, but at a depth of 180 feet the water current was high enough to dislodge the diver’s mask. Other dives were attempted with better success, but the water was so murky that little positive evidence could be seen of what everyone was hoping would be found. The diver is reported to have said he could neither see the sidewalls to the cavity, nor the floor he was standing on, merely the ghostly appearance of the roof above which appeared to be irregular possessing a number of ‘V’ shaped gouges.

In 1976 tragedy was narrowly averted after Blankenship descended the cased shaft, and it collapsed on him at a depth of 95 feet. He managed to escape, but resorted to other means to circumvent this setback to Borehole 10X. He decided to excavate a new, larger, shaft and line it with 8-foot diameter casings fabricated from old rail tank cars. These were of ½ inch steel plate.

Between 50 to 91 feet depth the casings were internally braced, and from 91 to 126 feet they were lined with concrete. In 1987 the shaft finally reached bedrock at 181 feet. No evidence of tunnels, artifacts, or treasure was ever reported.

A great deal of exploratory drilling and probing was carried out on the island during this period. One of the most interesting boreholes was located about 200 feet north of the Money Pit and extended to a total depth of 590 feet. This hole determined the entire geological profile for the first time and showed it to be as follows:- (a) 0 to 181 feet - hard glacial till soil; (b) 181 to 360 feet gypsum/anhydrite bedrock (gypsum predominating at bedrock surface); (c) 360 to 590 feet - slate bedrock. The most significant stratum is, of course, the gypsum/anhydrite in which any treasure chambers are most likely to be located. As gypsum/anhydrite is a water soluble rock, its considerable thickness, of 180 feet, makes it virtually certain that it forms much of the seabed around the island.

In late 1973, what is known as the Triton Shaft was excavated some 600 feet north of the Money Pit. The shaft was commenced as a result of some wire having been encountered by a drill hole at a depth of 110 feet at that spot. The wire had been dated by Stelco as being typical of wire drawn in the sixteenth to nineteenth century, too long a period to be useful. The 6 foot by 12 foot shaft, only extended to a depth of 100 feet before being abandoned.

During the winter of 1987 a number of holes in the sea ice were observed about 500 feet off South Shore. These are reported as being 15 to 40 feet in diameter. The incident gave rise to speculation that they represented inlets to other flood tunnels, at significantly greater depth, linking the Money Pit to the sea. In 1941 Edward Hamilton had done some dye tests in the Money Pit which resulted in dye emerging off South Shore. Therefore, it is logical to believe the two incidents confirmed a connection, but that connection is more likely to have arisen from the huge amount of pumping carried out on the island enlarging fissures within the water soluble gypsum/anhydrite bedrock, rather than proof of purposely made tunnels excavated by man.

Contemporary with much of this work was an attempt to find positive evidence of the presence of treasure by using sophisticated geophysical techniques. It was assumed that the treasure would consist of bars of metal, in the form of gold and silver, and, therefore, ideal targets for a variety of techniques. Sadly, this was not to be the case, and a great deal of effort and a large amount of money, was expended as a consequence with limited results. It was mentioned in Part VI that the approximate value of the treasure lost by William Phips can be estimated as $60 million, and that the treasure most certainly would not have contained any major amount of bullion. It would have consisted mostly of gems - emeralds, pearls and lapis lazuli - as well as gold and silver plate, and Chinese trade goods, including Ming china. None of these are likely to have proved a suitably clear target for the geophysical techniques used.

Furthermore, the overlying soil overburden, consisting of dense, bouldery glacial till would have masked the presence of such objects buried at depth.  A geophysical technique known as ground penetrating radar is understood to have been used about ten years ago by an adventurer prepared to wager his own money in the gamble.

Auger holes were put down which, as may be expected from the bouldery nature of the till, terminated at a variety of depths. The radar was then performed from the bottom of the holes. A number of excellent responses were reported, but on extending the holes by diamond core drilling nothing more exciting than cores of rock were obtained from the boulders that had been concluded to represent caches of bullion.

This brief summary of the activities on Oak Island during Dan Blankenship’s long tenure, cannot do justice to the vast amount of work carried out in the period. A great deal of valuable information has been accumulated, which is now in the public record. Of all the adventurers who have taken up the challenge of searching for treasure on Oak Island Blankenship must surely rank as one of the most tenacious. It is hoped one day he will reap the rewards for that tenacity. As mentioned earlier the full extent of his work on Oak Island has only partially been disclosed, but perhaps, one day in the future he can be persuaded to write his memoirs. They would add immeasurably to the public record!

Part X: Engineering the Smith’s Cove Cofferdam and the Flood Tunnel.

In the previous article it was mentioned an earth cofferdam was constructed to isolate the beach at Smith’s Cove in 1970, and that the excavations resulted in some exciting discoveries. These included what can be considered as the timber remains of the original cofferdam constructed to facilitate the construction of the inlet works to the Flood Tunnel. It is likely a similar cofferdam structure existed on South Shore, but probable attempts to excavate a tunnel from there to the Money Pit experienced difficulties as has been explained.

The remains of the Smith’s Cove Cofferdam consisted of a horizontal “U” shaped structure constructed of logs, and carrying remnants of inclined timbers marked with Roman numerals, and fixed in place with dowels. The 1970 excavations were open for a limited duration (before being inundated by the sea) and did not extend to any great depth. Therefore, it is certain parts of the foundations of the ancient cofferdam were never uncovered. Nevertheless, the constituent elements that were disclosed have been used to reconstruct how the original cofferdam may have looked, based upon the obvious resemblance to palisade walls in forts constructed by the British military in North America. Naturally, the overall height of the cofferdam is open to conjecture (see below).

The first stage in construction would have been to install the kingpost foundation beams (1) within the inter-tidal zone at as low a level as could be attained. These beams would have been massive baulks of timber, provided with precut slots in which to accommodate the base of the kingposts (2). At the same time a longitudinal thrust beam (3) would have been placed outside the intended line of the cofferdam on the seaward side. Such a beam would mobilize the passive resistance of the soil (as it is now termed in soil mechanics parlance) to resist the thrust of the soil stockpiled behind the timber wall.

The second construction stage would have been to position and fix the inclined struts (4) at the same time as the kingposts were raised, and it is likely the upper connections were made before raising took place. Trennels, i.e. wooden dowels, were used to fix the lower connections with the longitudinal thrust beam, and it is possible they were used also for the upper connections on the kingposts. With the necessity of ensuring verticality of the kingposts, any adjustment could be made by installing the lower trennels after the kingposts had been positioned. Since the inclined struts are likely to have varied in length from one kingpost to another, they may have been marked by a chisel - crude Roman numerals would have sufficed.

The third stage in construction would have been to place the horizontal timbers (5), often referred to as walers, behind the kingposts, and to caulk the gaps with oakum or coconut fibre, the latter material being utilized in the construction of the filter drains inside the cofferdam.  These wall timbers may have been lashed to the kingposts. Excavated spoil from drain excavation would have buttressed the timber cofferdam wall.

To ensure the cofferdam wall was watertight, access to its outside at low tide was essential for inspection and re-caulking. Cross-members (6), joists (7) and walkway planking (8) were, therefore, necessary to effect this access. Finally, to limit scour from tidal backwash, which might undermine the structure, a protective skirt (9) was provided in the form of a wide board securely fixed to the bottom section of the inclined struts, with its leading edge buried as deep as possible. It is interesting to note an old caulking tool was found inside the Smith’s Cove cofferdam.

A number of cofferdam details are likely to remain unknown without further exploratory work, i.e. whether an interior longitudinal thrust beam and inclined struts were provided identical to those on the seaward side, as well as the dimensions of the kingpost foundation beams.

The time line of the original scheme as conceived is, of course, unknown. The Flood Tunnel would have been the most important element, and its successful completion would have been vital to the outcome of the project. Therefore, it may be assumed that construction of the ancillary features, e.g. the cofferdam and water intake facilities, would have lagged tunnel excavation. Only after completion of the Flood Tunnel was assured would it have been prudent to commence any other work, such as full scale cofferdam construction.

In Parts IV and V mention was made that the internal dimensions of the Flood Tunnel (2ft 6in wide x 4ft high) possessed all the hallmarks of British military engineering, and that William Bontein, a distinguished tunneling engineer in the British Army, was dispatched with a group of Cornish miners to Nova Scotia in 1752. Mention was also made of several artifacts having been recovered by Frederick Blair during his excavations in the 1930s within the Money Pit. Two of these artifacts are of above average interest, they were (1) a poll-pick, and (2) a felling axe.

A poll-pick is a relatively short-handled pick with a typical ‘pick’ point on one side, and a checkered ‘poll’ on the other. It is a mining tool designed to be used by two men. One man inserts the pick point into a suitable crevice in the rock, the second drives the point home by striking the poll with a maul, or sledgehammer. They then prise a piece of rock from the face.

Designs of poll-picks varied considerable between mining districts, depending on the nature of the ore or substance being mined. In the British Isles there was a huge difference in the shapes of picks between the Scottish coalfields, the Welsh slate quarries, the Derbyshire lead mines, and the Cornish tin mines. The poll-pick recovered by Blair has been identified as clearly of Cornish origin.  The poll-pick was also unusual because its haft was unscarred from habitual use, and the checkering on the poll relatively fresh. Therefore, it may be assumed to have had little use before being lost. If it had fallen from above, as opposed to having risen from below as may have happened during the postulated ‘blow out’, it is likely to have been dropped at an early stage of Flood Tunnel excavation and, in view of its newness, this seems more likely.

The felling axe recovered was typical of the eighteenth century, being long-handled with the cutting edge consisting of a steel insert forged into a wrought iron blade. Though steel had been produced for centuries it was an expensive commodity, and did not become more generally available before the early part of the nineteenth century. As the design of axes varied enormously between localities, being produced in large numbers by a ‘cottage industry’, little else can be said about the axe. However, in contrast to the poll-pick, it had obviously seen much service from the battered, and slightly splintered, appearance of the haft close to the head.

The history of drilling on Oak Island has often made reference to ‘blue clay’ having been encountered in some of the early boreholes, especially within the Money Pit itself. It is truly a great pity the composition of this clay was never determined, for if it could be shown to have been Fuller’s Earth (or bentonite) it would have proved the presence of one or more deliberately placed seals within the Money Pit. One of those seals would be expected to below invert level of the Flood Tunnel where it intersects with the Money Pit. This point was below sea level and, in order to commence excavation, the miners would have erected a solid working platform across the pit. Beneath this would have been an adequately thick watertight seal to ensure security of operation. It is likely, therefore, that the aforementioned poll-pick and felling axe found below this level, may have been lost during the construction of such a platform The excavation of the Flood Tunnel is likely to have been carried out from two ends for two reasons. Firstly, as mentioned earlier, tunnelers prefer to excavate on an upslope grade because it facilitates removal of water and spoil from the working face. Secondly, no sane person will tunnel towards the sea without ascertaining the suitability of the ground in which they are tunnelling. From what we know of the line, length and grade of the Flood Tunnel it would seem reasonable to assume that the longer section of tunnel would have been excavated from the Money Pit towards Smith’s Cove. The shorter length would have been excavated from Smith’s Cove towards the Money Pit. Where did the two sections of tunnel meet? It seems reasonable to bet that this was in the vicinity of the Cave-In Shaft, unexpectedly discovered when Sophia Sellers almost lost her team of oxen in 1878. Likely, this represented the location of an old shaft, one that had served a number of useful purposes, and which had not been very well backfilled.

Perhaps, by that time those employed on the island were eager to escape from their toils.  It is known the Flood Tunnel was not left open by the miners who excavated it, but was carefully packed with beach stones. These stones would have been relatively large and uniform to ensure the overall permeability was sufficient to permit rapid flow of water through the tunnel, and this would appear to be the case from the description of S.C.Fraser in 1866 - “the water hurled rocks about twice the size of a man's head, with many smaller [rocks], and drove the men back for protection. We could not go back into the shaft again for about nine hours.” Obviously, the tunnel was intended to remain in service for an indefinite period, the main purpose of the stones, or boulders, being to prevent collapse of the tunnel once any timber supports remaining in situ had rotted away.

Though tunnelers prefer to excavate on an upslope grade, it is logical that any backfilling of boulders inside the Flood Tunnel would have commenced at the two lower ends (at the two extremities, i.e. the Money Pit and Smith’s Cove) and progressed backwards towards the ‘Cave-In Shaft’ location.  It was not until 1757 that miners were officially integrated into the British Army and accorded military rank. Prior to that date the army generally used civilian engineers, or skilled craftsmen, to do the work of sapping and mining, either on the battlefield or elsewhere, tunneling being perceived as an occupation requiring experienced professionals. It has been mentioned that William Bontein, a skilled military tunneling engineer had been dispatched to Nova Scotia in 1752, along with a group of Cornish miners. The evidence points to this group amounted to no more than twenty in number, and would have represented the core group required for tunnel excavation. In view of the restricted dimensions of the tunnel (2½ ft. wide by 4 ft. high), no greater number could have been employed anyway, even if they worked continuous shifts 24 hours a day, as they probably did, six days a week. The excavation of the Flood Tunnel, and its backfilling with beach stones, is estimated as requiring 18 months to accomplish. Taking into account time lost, in attempting to excavate the shorter tunnel from South Shore to the Money Pit, the overall period Bontein’s group likely spent on the island would have approached two years, commencing about October 1752.

It is known that towards the end of 1754 Bontein was ‘cooling his heels’ in the cells at Annapolis Royal, with the possibility of facing a court martial (for whatever reason has not been determined). His colleague, William Cowley, died about the same time, and Bontein subsequently married Cowley’s widow. The two incidents may be linked. In any event Bontein appears to have escaped his court martial, and was later promoted.

The concept of the Flood Tunnel, at least in principle, can be associated with Colonel Thomas Lascelles (1670-1751). Because of his death the task of translating concept into reality would have devolved upon John Henry Bastide, a much younger man, and one well suited to the task by his already lengthy experience of military works in Nova Scotia. Because of the secrecy and importance of the project it may be expected that Bastide would have supervised all on-site engineering while the bulk of the work was in progress. Strangely, Bastide is listed in the records as being ‘on vacation’ between 1751 and 1754, while other documentation shows him to have written letters from Annaplois Royal. Other subordinate engineers, such as William Bontein and William Cowley, would have undertaken specific tasks in line with their specialist engineering capabilities, i.e. tunneling and marine construction respectively.

A support group would have been necessary to provide the general labour, much along the lines of army pioneer corps today. Evidence has been presented in The Oak Island Treasure:  The Military Cover-Up 1752-54 that this was provided by companies of Lascelles’s Regiment (47th Foot) who arrived in Nova Scotia in 1750. The commander of the 47th was Colonel Peregrine Lascelles, who appears to have been a relative of Colonel Thomas Lascelles, the Chief Engineer of Great Britain. Another member of the family who appears to have had a connection with the work, but remains a shadowy individual, was William Lascelles. Three members of the Lascelles family in the same place at the same time is surely suggestive of clandestine purpose!

The total workforce on Oak Island, during the excavation of the Flood Tunnel and the intake facilities within the Smith’s Cove Cofferdam, would have amounted to in excess of a hundred persons. Wives and children are also likely to have been present, swelling the numbers.   With an overall project period of two years, or possibly somewhat longer allowing for initial preparation work and subsequent demolition, the presence of a large number of people on the island for that period would have left an everlasting legacy in the form of cesspits. These are likely to have been concentrated in the vicinity of a barracks/stores area. No matter how meticulous the clean up of the island after the project came to a successful conclusion, the cesspits would have remained. A useful exercise would be to map the island with this objective in mind.

Part XI: Theories.

The previous articles in this series have concentrated on presenting a review of the historical record regarding the search for treasure on Oak Island, and interpreting the evidence revealed by that search in the wider context. Apologies are tendered if the author has been negligent, or the reader has perceived deficiencies in the presentation of that evidence.  Numerous adventurers have participated in the search for treasure on Oak Island over the past two centuries, and each individual or group, it must be supposed, held some opinion regarding ‘who’ buried the treasure, and ‘when’ or ‘why’ it was buried. This series has concentrated upon what I will term ‘The Phips Theory’, simply because the facts of his treasure seeking exploits and other archival information, admittedly somewhat circumstantial in nature, fit the overall findings as viewed from the historical perspective.

The realization that the Money Pit was the scene of a major underground disaster was the starting point to the investigative work by Les MacPhie and myself over the past fifteen years.  The loss of the treasure in the Money Pit, and the inability to recover it, fully explained the purpose of the Flood Tunnel and, because of the complexity and cost of the Tunnel and its ancillary works, the treasure can be concluded as both bulky and of immense value. The evidence accumulated thus far points to Phips having a shipload of treasure on board his 400 ton vessel, the Good Luck. However, now is the time to look at other theories.

There is hardly an Oak Island enthusiast who has not developed a theory of their own regarding ‘who’ did ‘what’, ‘why’ and ‘when’. A number of websites are devoted to commentary upon the Oak Island ‘mystery’, and many conflicting opinions in this regard have been expressed by advocates of various theories. This is healthy debate, if the focus is a genuine attempt to determine the truth, for a ‘mystery’ is, by one definition, ‘an incident or set of circumstances awaiting solution’, and it is human nature to attempt to unravel puzzles. However, much of the commentary, though interesting and useful, tends to be somewhat fragmented. Sherlock Holmes, the well-known fictional detective, once said ‘If the facts don’t agree with the theory, then alter the theory’. In other words whatever specific thesis is advanced it has to fit all the facts, not simply those selected to support a particular point of view. The literature upon Oak Island would benefit considerably if the proponents of these other theories were to publish their work more publicly, presenting their arguments in a rational and logical manner reinforced with the appropriate facts and within the comprehensive framework of factual evidence already established. Another saying which might be borne in mind by those prepared to take up that challenge, is that of the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) who wrote ‘There are three stages in the revelation of truth - firstly, it is ridiculed - secondly, it is resisted -and, thirdly, it is declared universally self-evident’. This is obviously the voice of a cynic speaking from personal experience, and even the presentation of ‘truth’, supported by unassailable evidence, is not guaranteed easy acceptance by critics.

One of the earliest theories is reported to be that of the boys themselves who discovered the Money Pit. It is said they believed it to be buried pirate treasure. Such a belief is understandable, especially by youngsters with vivid imaginations. Since Captain Kidd had gone to the gallows a century earlier, claiming to have buried his ill-gotten gains upon ‘an island in the Indies’, and his treasure had never been reported as recovered, the boys may be excused in their belief it may have been his. The belief that the Oak Island treasure is Kidd’s still prevails in many quarters today. Much of this popular myth, it is hoped, has been dispelled in Part VIII, and no further commentary is considered necessary.

What of other pirates? Are there any who possessed enormous fortunes in treasure and booty they might have buried in the ground? From many contemporary accounts of the seventeenth century, which was the heyday of piracy in the Caribbean, little remained in the pirates’ pockets after their legendary orgies following return to port. The island of Jamaica was the focus for British piracy in the West Indies and, it is said, the merchants, tavern-keepers, and whores of Port Royal were quick to empty the loot from the bulging pockets of pirates on the principle of ‘easy come, easy go’. Henry Morgan became one of the most famous and wealthiest of the Caribbean pirates, from his brilliantly audacious raids on Portobello, Maracaibo, and Panama, which yielded stupendous riches. However, he did not fritter his share of the booty away in taverns or brothels, but spent it on land and establishing himself in Jamaican politics.

What of other pirates and freebooters who sailed the Spanish Main in those golden years of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries? What of those stalwart Englishmen like Drake, Hawkins and Frobisher, who preceded Morgan? Numerous ships were captured during their predations in the Caribbean and, doubtless, vast amounts of booty taken. However, when Drake returned from his circumnavigation of the world in his tiny treasure-laden ship the Pelican (renamed the Golden Hind) he was knighted for his piratical exploits, instead of being hanged as Elizabeth had previously promised the King of Spain. Also, it is claimed she told Drake to ‘take your ten percent of the treasure before it is valued by the tally clerks’. What she really meant was ‘Take as much as you like - you deserve it’. With a monarch like that there was little incentive for Drake to squirrel loot away on an obscure island on the far side of the Atlantic!

An English pirate, who seems to have been rather neglected, is Thomas Cavendish (1560-92). He was a contemporary of Drake, was the second Englishman to circumnavigate the world, and whose piratical exploits were equally monumental. In 1587 he (in the Desire of 140 tons) and his consort (the Content of 60 tons) captured one of the greatest Spanish treasure-ships of all time, the 700 ton Great St. Anna, off Acapulco following a six hour battle. Apart from 22,000 pesos in gold (some reports say 122,000 pieces of eight) there was 600 tons of rich merchandise, of which Cavendish could only take 40 tons. One of the eye witnesses wrote later ‘this was one of the richest vessels that ever sailed the seas, and was able to make hundreds wealthy if we had had the means to have brought it home’. The two vessels parted company after burning the remains of the Great St. Anna. Nothing was ever heard of the Content, doubtless it sank from being overloaded! But could it have reached Oak Island on its long voyage back to England? It is surprising this possibility has been overlooked apparently by those advocating a pirate origin for the Oak Island treasure.

There were, of course, many other pirates of various nationalities who roamed the West Indies and the coasts of South America intent on stealing Spanish gold, among them Portuguese, French, Dutch, as well as Spaniards. But would they have sailed north, north to Oak Island to cache their loot; to spend many weary months digging the Money Pit shaft, and to excavate the Flood Tunnel, when a sunnier climate with its attendant distractions was already theirs?

Could the Money Pit have represented what is known as a communal bank for pirates?  There is some evidence to suggest the pirates frequenting the pirate havens of Madagascar, Haiti, and elsewhere, often resorted to consolidating their loot in such depositaries for collective security. In order for a communal bank to operate effectively at Oak Island, apart from having ‘trust amongst thieves’ (which was rarer than might be thought), the island would had to have been a centre of piratical activity frequented by a number of pirate crews. There is nothing which suggests Oak Island was ever a pirate haven. Also, their pickings would had to have been rich enough to warrant the construction and operation of a communal bank. Though many French pirates operated out of Port Royal, La Have, and elsewhere along the coasts of Acadia, the object of their predations tended to be solitary English merchantmen and fishing vessels out of New England. Though plunder was taken it is doubtful whether its worth would have matched anything like that available in the Caribbean.

One cannot imagine any self-respecting pirate, whatever his nationality, regardless of how bloody, bold and fearless he might have been, content to patiently toil with pick and shovel in the cold, dank, claustrophobic atmosphere underground for months at a time whatever the objective may have been. Somehow, the image of pirates just doesn’t fit the Oak Island scene!

Another favourite theory with Oak Island enthusiasts is that the Money Pit was once a mine. A number of metallic ores have been suggested as being the objective of a mining operation. Foremost, of course, is gold, but recently more exotic metals have been suggested, such as uranium and radium. Perhaps Gold River, the name of the river flowing into the northwest extremity of Mahone Bay, has proved unfortunate in this respect, though it is understood some gold was once won from the bed of the river by panning, though the exact locations or the quantities recovered are unknown to the writer.

There are a number of areas within the province of Nova Scotia where considerable quantities of gold were once mined underground, and some where gold continues to be won. But could Oak Island have been the site of an underground gold mine as has been often suggested? 

Prior to the advent of the mechanical drill in the latter half of the nineteenth century, all underground metalliferous mines, virtually without exception, commenced with the discovery of outcrops of ore at ground surface. These outcrops were then followed underground. The richest goldfields in the world, those of the Witwatersrand of South Africa, began by working an outcrop discovered in 1852. Since then South Africa has produced half the world’s gold.

As evidence of underground activity at the Money Pit was first noted in 1795, well before    the invention of the mechanical drill, it may be supposed that any gold mining on Oak Island would have commenced with inclined shafts, or adits, driven from a rock outcrop. Unfortunately, there is an absence of any mention in the early historical records of derelict mining headgear existing on Oak Island in the vicinity of the Money Pit. The legendary tackle block suspended from the limb of the ancient oak, as reported by the boys who discovered the Money Pit, though suggestive of underground excavation, cannot be considered as headgear for a commercial mining enterprise. The inevitable adjuncts of such an operation would be piles of spoil and waste rock, and of these there is a total lack.  Furthermore, the geological profile of the island, as determined by a deep borehole put down in 1983 (see Part IX), showed the soil overburden to consist of dense glacial till to a depth of 181 feet, which overlaid a 180 foot thick stratum of gypsum/anhydrite, which in turn was superimposed upon slate bedrock at a depth of 360 feet. The glacial till is most certainly devoid of any worthwhile gold in concentrated form, and in view of the geological processes involved in the deposition of gypsum/anhydrite, which are not conducive to gold deposition as this is an evaporite, any gold in the sequence of soil/rock strata beneath the Money Pit would be confined to the slate bedrock at considerably greater depths than that to which the Money Pit appears to have been excavated (210-230 feet). In view of the solubility of the gypsum/anhydrite bedrock any mining activity below sea level which penetrated into or through the gypsum/ anhydrite would be fraught with peril as we have seen (see Part IV).

A brief comment may be made regarding exotic elements such as uranium and radium, as the suggestion is quite interesting. These are extremely reactive metals and never occur in their native states. It was not until the end of the nineteenth century that their existence was first suspected, and this eventually led to their isolation. Though both elements are widely distributed, they are also very minutely dispersed. The yield of radium from one metric ton of pitchblende is  only 0.0001 gm. The isolation of both elements is a lengthy, expensive process even with modern technology.

A theory once proposed was that priceless manuscripts are buried at the bottom of the Money Pit, it being claimed the knowledge contained in these arcane documents would revolutionize the world, bringing peace, harmony and a ‘new age’. Well maybe! But as no one  knows what these documents are, or who wrote them, least of all their content, perhaps those of us less ready to buy a ‘pig in a poke’ will be excused if we show a healthy degree of skepticism.

A favourite among advocates of this sort of theory are that the manuscripts are the writings of Francis Bacon, the claim being often made that he was the author of the plays more often accepted as having been written by William Shakespeare. This is not the place to re-engage in the futile argument of who wrote Shakespeare’s plays. Let us be content they were written for the delight of countless millions - does it matter by whom? But more significantly let us ask the question - who would consign manuscripts, whether priceless or not, to the bottom of a deep, dirty, wet hole? If they were priceless they’d keep them dry! If they wanted to destroy them they’d throw them on the fire! No one, with a brain in his head, would go to the trouble and expense of digging a deep hole on the far side of the Atlantic if, presuming, they were European in origin!

Some have claimed the secret of Oak Island to be written in the stars. The Egyptians appear to have been the first to practice astrology, uniting fixed stars into constellations and giving them names according to whether they believed the stars represented an animal, person, or inanimate object. Greek astrologers took over where the Egyptians left off, to be succeeded by the Romans and the Arabs, and each, it must be supposed, improved the quality of star-gazing by dividing up the night sky differently to their predecessors. The Venerable Bede (673-735) divided it up to produce twelve zodiacal signs representing the twelve apostles, Schillerius (c1627) made a similar attempt based on scripture, and Weigelius (c1715) grouped the stars using heraldry, introducing the arms of all the princes of Europe. The lesson of all this must surely be that you can see in the stars whatever you want to see! If you don’t like what you see in the night sky, you can always read your stars in the daily newspaper!

Much has been made of the ‘Christian Cross’ on Oak Island, located well to the northwest  of the Money Pit, where huge boulders, estimated as being some 20 to 40 tons weight, have been thought to replicate such a religious sign. There is nothing mysterious, or special about the boulders, since they are glacial erratics swept southwards by the powerful glaciers that once ground their way across Earth’s surface. There are many similar sized boulders scattered about the region of Western Shore and its environs, as they were deposited by the glaciers in what are known as ‘trains’, i.e. huge swathes of territory littered with boulder debris. In fact there are so many boulders in the region that one could, by appropriate selection, produce any religious symbol one wished, whether it be Christian Cross, Star of David, or Crescent of Islam. At least one boulder on the mainland was put to good use - the enterprising owner drilled a hole in it and inserted a flagpole! It is difficult to believe any credible thesis on the Oak Island treasure could ever arise from musings upon mystical interpretations of boulders.

Resort is often made to scouring old maps to establish a link between certain individuals and Oak Island. This might appear a tenuous exercise at the best of times, but one that is both logical, understandable and, eventually, rewarding. Surely, a map of some sort must exist somewhere that represents incontrovertible evidence of the existence of the Oak Island treasure and, thereby, helps to establish the identity of the depositor and the nature of the treasure? But where is it? Is it in archives open to the public, or is it considered so incriminating it is classified ‘top secret’? We are unlikely to ever know, at least in the near future. Evidence presented earlier points to British Government involvement upon Oak Island during the period 1752-54, and  considerable effort has been made to seek documentary evidence from that period in open file.

The results though sketchy, have been adequate enough to forge a link (see Part X) but, nevertheless, insufficient for that link to be considered indisputable. More evidence is needed! In the event a map is discovered, which appears to reflect either the deposition of the treasure within the Money Pit, or the excavation of the Flood Tunnel, or both, it is, of course, essential the known features of these elements of the underground workings be fully reflected on that map.

An intriguing suggestion has been that the Money Pit, and its ancillary works, was excavated by freemasons for purposes best known to themselves. Some have claimed they did it for a hoax to puzzle later generations. It is difficult to readily accept such a thesis - no one digs deep holes in the ground for fun! Underground excavations, whether they be in the form of shafts or tunnels, carry with them more fear than fun for those engaged upon the digging. It is hard, dirty and often dangerous work. I know! It is also time-consuming and expensive. But if the Money Pit was indeed dug by freemasons, or some secret society, the advocates of any theory based on secrecy of purpose still have to advance a comprehensive thesis of ‘who’, ‘why’ and ‘when’, and of ‘what’ the treasure consists. It just isn’t good enough to say it’s all a secret! Such a thesis possesses little credibility, and will hardly score many ‘brownie points’!

What of Templar treasure, the spoils of Jerusalem, the crown jewels of France, Scotland or other places, Inca treasure, and the countless other speculative theories that often have been advanced regarding the origin of the Oak Island treasure? One theory falling in this category is that the Oak Island treasure comprises some of the loot carried off following the sack of Havana by the British in 1762, at the close of the Seven Years War (1756-63). There was indeed a great deal of loot captured at Havana, and elsewhere in the West Indies, and some may have been spirited away into private pockets. However, the British forces attacking Guadeloupe, Martinique, and Havana, were all beset by disease. The British suffered three times as many deaths from fever, and other tropical ailments, as from French action. Furthermore, Britain had been at war, almost continuously, since William, Prince of Orange, assumed the throne of England in 1688. Simply stated - the country was broke! The politics of the time, and the debilitated state of the victors, do not seem conducive (at least to me) for a concerted effort to be made on Oak Island that would take many weary months and, possibly, years to accomplish.

Also, it must be remembered, that active settlement was taking place in the Mahone Bay area during that period. There would have been better, more isolated places in the province to commence a new undertaking, if that undertaking was intended to be clandestine.

Let us, in closing, look at a really wacky theory - one that involves UFOs and space aliens. I’m sure there are numerous enthusiasts of the Oak Island ‘mystery’ that are avid enthusiasts of space fiction. They’ll like this! In 1980 a book appeared titled Beyond the Light Barrier, by Elizabeth Klarer. In it Ms. Klarer claimed to having been abducted by a UFO and taken to the planet Meton, in the constellation of Alpha Centauri. There she had a child by one of the ‘spacemen’ called Akon. She retells Akon’s account of how the inhabitants of Meton originated on the planet Venus, which had an atmosphere similar to that of Earth today, but they ‘screwed it up’ (just as we are doing with our atmosphere) and were forced to emigrate in order to escape from a climate that was becoming increasingly torrid. Their advanced technology, greatly surpassing ours at the present day, and their immense UFOs, were capable of whisking away large numbers of desperate Venusians (who Klarer describes as being peaceful and unwarlike). The Venusians harboured hopes of finding a new home on Earth, but the primitive Earthlings proved hostile. The emigrants then took a look at Mars before venturing further a field.

However, they did leave their ‘mark’ here, as they showed the Egyptians (who were friendlier than most Earthlings) how to build pyramids. Egyptologists have yet to learn the truth, that it was really the Venusians who built the pyramids - not the Egyptians! Where does the Money Pit fit into all this? It’s obviously the site of a launch pad for a Venusian UFO! What happened to Elizabeth Klarer? She returned to Earth for medical reasons, and wrote a book! She became an adviser to the British Military on UFOs. I met her once - she seemed quite sane! I can recommend her book to all UFO enthusiasts.

Whatever theory on the Oak Island ‘mystery’ catches the reader’s fancy, there is one single aspect that needs to be clearly evident. The theory has to explain the ‘motive’ of whoever is believed responsible, accompanied by appropriate historical facts, and evidence of the originators possessing the capability of excavating the underground works. Without such prerequisites any theory is unlikely to gain acceptance, or even credibility, regardless of how   imaginative it might otherwise be.

Conclusion

Will the Oak Island treasure ever be recovered? Probably not, unless there is an adequate understanding of the nature of the catastrophe that first befell the Money Pit in the form of the ‘blow out’ (see Part IV) , to learn the lessons involved, to take appropriate measures to avoid repetition of past mistakes, and to appreciate the inherent dangers posed by the gypsum/anhydrite rock in which the treasure chambers are contained.

The value of the Oak Island treasure is currently estimated as about $60 million, if one accepts the Phips Theory. This represents the approximate value of the treasure recovered from the wreck of the Concepción during the return expedition of 1687-88, known as the Phips-Narbrough Expedition. The treasure would be expected to consist of gemstones, e.g. emeralds, pearls and lapis lazuli, gold and silver plate and Chinese trade goods, e.g. Ming china. It is unlikely to contain any major quantity of bullion or coinage.

A number of schemes have been proposed for treasure recovery. These range from re-excavating the Money Pit, either with small or large diameter shafts, lined with a variety of materials, to sinking steel or concrete caissons with or without the use of compressed air and/or the ancillary application of ground-freezing techniques. It is impossible to do justice to any, of these in a comprehensive manner in a brief article such as this. However, the following basic points can be emphasized:

1. The ground in the immediate vicinity of the Money Pit was previously excavated by Dunfield to a depth of almost 140 feet. It was backfilled in a random manner with material that included debris such as discarded equipment, drill pipe, and other miscellaneous objects. Any shaft support through such fill can be expected to pose serious stability problems.

2. The dangers presented by the gypsum/anhydrite bedrock should not be underestimated. The loss of the treasure, in the first place, can be directly attributed to the hazardous nature of this material, even though it is only in recent years that hazard has been recognized. Also, to compound the difficulties, is the fact that past pumping activity, in an attempt to dewater the ground, has created new solution channels within the bedrock and has likely enlarged those previously existing.

3. Any recovery scheme, advocating the use of compressed air, should take into account the various restrictions and limitations of application.  For instance, a common feature of regulations is the maximum air pressure permitted (usually 40 psi). This limits the depth of operation under water to about 100 feet, which is why, if the treasure is to be recovered, compressed air alone cannot be relied upon to gain access to the treasure chambers.

4. Ground-freezing is a technique of ground treatment that has been often advocated. However, it suffers from the high cost of application over an extended and unknown period. Any discontinuity of operation, for any length of time, will have its own commensurate penalty. Should the ground-freezing programme be abandoned before the treasure is recovered, the ground conditions in the Money Pit area will be rendered worse than when the scheme commenced, with nothing to show for the expenditure involved.

5. Any scheme, finally conceived, should have as its goal the steady improvement of ground conditions at all times, such that if a cessation of  work occurs the stability of the ground will not be compromised. Such a scheme could involve a number of ground-improvement techniques, such as various types of grout injection, as well as ground-freezing, each technique being confined to a specific element of the scheme. A concept proposed by the writer, which involved cement grouting in stages to construct an underground cofferdam, supplemented by silicate grouting, with ancillary ground freezing, was outlined in The Oak Island Treasure: The Prospects for Recovery. The scheme is believed to satisfy the basic requirements of being safe, practical and economic. The capital cost was budgeted at $8.15 million. With the treasure estimated at about $60 million, there would appear to be adequate margin for profit.

Regardless of whether the treasure is ever recovered, the ‘mystery’ of Oak Island remains an enduring fascination. As stated previously it is an historic gem for three reasons. Firstly, it is the scene of two centuries of feverish digging to recover that which is buried; secondly, what is buried still lies un-recovered because of the geological difficulties involved; and thirdly, perhaps more importantly, the accumulated evidence suggests the island to have played a part in one of the great revolutions of history, one that altered the balance of power in Europe and affected the destiny of North America.

It is often said that ‘truth is stranger than fiction’. The story behind the digging of the Money Pit, the loss of the treasure, and the subsequent cover-up is such a story. When it becomes better known it will enrich the history of Nova Scotia, of Canada, and of North America.

References/Further Reading

(a) Books and articles specifically relating to ‘The Phips Theory’: 

(1) Oak Island and its Lost Treasure (Formac);

 (2) The Golden Reef of Sir William Phips (Booksurge/Amazon); 

(3) The Oak Island Treasure: The Case for Sir William Phips (Four East); 

(4) The Oak Island Treasure: The Military Cover-Up 1752-54 (Private); 

(5) The Oak Island Treasure: The Prospects for Recovery:  (Private); 

(7) The Treasure and Treason of William Phips (see Internet); 

(8) Recovering the Oak Island Treasure (Imperial College/also Internet); 

(9) The Oak Island Cofferdam (in publication by Imperial College).

(b) Other books relating to Phips’s treasure-seeking exploits: 

(1) The Treasure of the Concepción(by Peter Earle, 1980); 

(2) The Hispaniola Treasure (by Cyrus Karraker, 1934).

(c) General interest books, excluding fiction: 

(1) Oak Island Gold (by William Crooker, 1993);

(2) Nova Scotia’s Oak Island: The Unsolved Mystery (by Millie Evans, 1993); 

(3) Oak Island Secrets (by Mark Finnan, 1993): 

(4) Money Pit: The Mystery of Oak Island (by Rupert Furneaux, 1976);

 (5) The Oak Island Mystery (by Reginald Harris, 1958);

 (6) Revealed: The Secret of Oak Island (by Laverne Johnson, 1991);

 (7) The Money Pit: The Story of Oak Island (by D’Arcy O’Connor, 1978):

 (8) The Big Dig (by D’Arcy O’Conner. 1988;

 (9) The Secret Treasure of Oak Island (by D’Arcy O’Connor, 2004);

 (10) The Secret Treasure of the Knights Templar (by Steven Sora, 1999).