Blackbeard's Lost Treasure

by Caleb Wygal

  A few moments later, Darwin replied: Getting close. Just passed by a place called Pritchard’s Island. About an hour out, I think. Sup? Find out anything?

  Lucas: Yes. Text me just as you’re pulling into the marina.

  Darwin: OK. Do you know where the treasure is?

  Lucas hesitated before responding: No. But you’ve possibly already passed it.

  Darwin: Interesting.

  Lucas: Listen. Be ready to get off as soon as you get here. It’s vital that you do. I’ll have specific instructions. Have your things together. Be ready to get off fast.

  Darwin: I can do that. Is everything OK?

  Lucas: Just be ready.

  Darwin: Gotcha.

  He didn’t want to let Darwin know about Riddick just yet, although his texts may make Darwin suspicious. At this point, the pirate didn’t know what Lucas knew. His henchmen may call him with an update, although they didn’t necessarily know what Lucas knew either. He also didn’t want Darwin to know where the treasure was. If Riddick was the type of man Lucas suspected he was, he might do something nasty to Darwin if he knew the location.

  He just hoped Riddick didn’t do anything crazy.

  Lucas sat the phone in the seat next to him and punched in the directions for the marina where Riddick told him to meet them. He didn’t know what would happen once he got there. He had a feeling that trouble awaited him.

  No matter. Darwin was in danger. It was up to Lucas to get him out of it.

  26

  The Harbour Town Yacht Club sits in a small harbor in the upscale Sea Pines area of Hilton Head. It is home to a pro level golf course, shopping, dining recreation and a majestic lighthouse overlooking everything. For a boat to get to it coming from the north, it has to traverse the length of the island and sail around the southern tip.

  For Lucas to get to it, all he had to do was turn right coming out of the library, go straight, and through an elaborate roundabout. He was there in fifteen minutes. It might have been ten had he not stopped at an ATM machine. He didn’t think it would hurt to have cash in his pocket should he need to grease some palms.

  He navigated through the maze of palm tree lined streets, following the signs pointing to the yacht club. He passed the clubhouse for the golf course and resisted the urge to go in and have a look around. The lavish homes eventually gave way to a quaint shopping district as the road met the water. The pavement swept along a gradual curve along the riverbank leading to a marina where he saw dozens of ships of different makes and sizes. All looked luxurious.

  There was parking along the water’s edge where Lucas backed his Jeep in. He wanted his Jeep to face the road leading away from the marina in case he needed to make a hasty retreat.

  White and red-bricked buildings encircled the small bay. Moorings ringed the edge with one prominent dock jutting out into middle the dark water. The red and white striped lighthouse towered over everything. The smell of salt water mixed with the aroma of fried seafood coming from a restaurant at the foot of the lighthouse. Lucas could imagine getting fantastic water views while dining there. Unfortunately, he had more immediate things to do.

  He hurried to a small building marked “Harbour Town Yacht Club.” Two and three story luxury yachts drew Lucas’s eyes to them. These vessels made Riddick’s yacht look like a dinghy in comparison.

  He went in and immediately felt out of place. A man with intense blue eyes, perfect silver hair wearing navy blazer with elbow patches and gold buttons with an embroidered Harbour Town Yacht Club emblem on his left breast stood at attention behind the desk.

  “Can I help you?” the man asked Lucas in an uppity accent with a hint of derision.

  “Yes, I’m waiting for someone to come in to the marina,” Lucas answered, waiving a hand at the water behind them.

  The man somehow raised an eyebrow without moving any other muscles on his face. Botox, Lucas thought. “And who might that be?”

  “Hugo Riddick.”

  “One moment.” The clerk looked down and flipped through a few pages of a logbook. “Yes, Mr. Riddick is due in port here in about thirty minutes.”

  “Does he have an assigned slip? That way I could be waiting for him.”

  The man regarded Lucas with skepticism, eyebrow still cocked. “Yes. Number forty-three.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything else I can do for you . . . sir?”

  “Yes, do you have a nautical chart of the area surrounding area I can take a look at for a minute?”

  For a moment, the man didn’t answer, perhaps deciding whether Lucas was worth his while. “One moment,” he said and disappeared through a door behind him. He returned a minute later with a two-sided laminated map and set it on a counter a few feet away from his station. “Here you go . . . sir.”

  Lucas stepped over, thanked the man, and picked up the large chart. The key was in a white bar running down the right side and the title Hilton Head – Beaufort, SC INSHORE FISHING CHART was in the top-left corner. He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a printed copy of Blackbeard’s map. He placed it on the chart, starting at the left edge and slowly moved it to the right—past Hilton Head, past Parris Island, past Prichard’s and Hunting Islands and stopped. It was right there at the right edge of the chart.

  Jackpot.

  Now that he saw it, he could smack himself.

  He knew that area. He knew it well.

  Getting there would be the hard part.

  • • •

  Darwin’s grip tightened on his phone. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

  Listen. Be ready to get off as soon as you get here. It’s vital that you do. I’ll have specific instructions. Have your things together. Be ready to get off fast.

  Just be ready.

  He knew Lucas had his suspicions of Riddick. Thus far throughout this voyage the man seemed open. Congenial. Honest. He had told Darwin about his shipping business, his hobby as a Blackbeard impersonator and some of the travels that came as a result. He appeared at many pirate festivals along the eastern seaboard and down into the Caribbean.

  Darwin stayed up top for most of the journey, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the ocean. As a child, his mom never took him on vacation. He went on field trips during elementary school, and rarely ventured far from his home near downtown Concord. Going to the beach was something that had never crossed his mind. It was something that existed in a world beyond his own.

  Now that he was out here, he never wanted to leave it. At some point as they cruised past Charleston, he made up his mind that his goal in life would be to become a maritime archaeologist. Before this trip with Lucas, he hadn’t made any real personal goals. For most of his life, getting out of his rotten home in Concord was his only thought. What he’d do after that was wide open. He knew he wanted to study archaeology. All history fascinated him.

  After finding this map and journal and undergoing this adventure, he knew this was what he wanted to do. He found through his studies over the past few days that there were many unsolved mysteries regarding ships lost at sea during the formation of the New World. Spanish ships loaded with treasure never made their way to their destinations during the Golden Age of Piracy. Ships carrying hundreds of passengers in hopes of starting a new life in America never made it to shore. There was so much he could study. His mind swirled at the thought.

  Lucas’s text messages brought Darwin back to the present. He looked to the passing shore five hundred yards to his right. The first of the hotel complexes along Hilton Head’s northern shore passed by.

  Now Darwin had to figure out what he was going to do. It was mid-afternoon. The plan was for Lucas to get there first, see if he could dig anything up at the Heritage Library, then they’d meet up once Darwin and Riddick arrived and go from there. Apparently, Lucas had found something, but didn’t want to reveal it yet.

  If he was supposed to go see the man at the library to get background information on Trench’s Island and find a
ny possible clues about pirate attacks, why give Darwin the instruction to be ready to jump ship? It had to be something to do with Riddick. Had Lucas heard back from his police investigator friend?

  Riddick navigated the yacht along the shallow waters of the Hilton Head coast in the captain’s chair to Darwin’s right. The pirate’s beard fluttered in the breeze. He wore a Parrot Head baseball hat to keep the rest of his long hair from fluttering everywhere.

  The opening chords of “Margaritaville” suddenly blared from Riddick’s shirt pocket. It was his cell phone ringing. He looked at the screen, pressed a button, and said, “Just a sec.” He looked to Darwin. “Think you can take the wheel for a minute. I need to take this call.”

  Darwin looked ahead and saw clear waters. There were no other vessels in their line of sight. He had never been behind the wheel of a car, much less a million dollar yacht. His only driving experience came via moped. The thought of the taking over for Riddick made him nervous.

  The pirate saw Darwin’s hesitation and said, “Look, there’s nothing to it. Just keep the ship pointed straight ahead. This won’t take but a minute.”

  Darwin let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

  He stood up allowing Riddick to pass by, not before giving Darwin a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You got this. Give me a minute on the phone with this guy and I’ll be right back. If you need to slow down, just push this lever forward slowly.”

  Darwin climbed into the captain’s chair and placed his hands on the controls. Without another word, Riddick disappeared through the stairway leading below.

  Darwin settled in, and after a minute, found himself comfortable.

  • • •

  “You stupid morons!” Riddick screamed into his phone from his private cabin in the bottom deck of the yacht. There was an entire level between him and Darwin and he figured with that buffer and the noise from the engines that the young man wouldn’t be able to hear him. “You had one job. Keep your eyes on him!”

  “We’re sorry boss. Nothing we could do. He came up to us. He somehow figured out who we were. Then the cops came when the situation escalated.”

  “Does he know you’re associated with me?” Riddick asked.

  “Don’t think so. He just said he knew we were the guys from yesterday.”

  Riddick paused to collect himself. Getting angry could lead to making the wrong decisions. He only resorted to violence as a last recourse. That had happened several times in his life. It never ended well for the person on the other end of his rage. He wouldn’t resort to that unless he was out of alternatives.

  “Why were the police there?”

  “I have no idea. We were at a library for Christ’s sakes. What is a cop going to do at a library besides kick homeless men out of the bathrooms and arrest people for overdue library books?”

  “Yeah. I wonder if Lucas somehow tipped them off.”

  “Don’t know boss. I gotta tell ya. You were right about this Lucas guy. Couldn’t tell much from him and his buddy yesterday besides that they were both tall. Up close, you can tell this guy is smart and looks as though he can defend himself.”

  “I know. That’s why I called you.”

  “What do you want for us to do now, boss?”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I don’t know,” the man said. “Hold on. Let me look . . . we’re sitting at some place called the Coligny Plaza Shopping Center.”

  “I know where that is. Okay, head out of there and meet me back at the marina. We should be there in twenty minutes or so.”

  “Gotcha boss. We’re going to pick us up a bite to eat real fast. Run through a McDonald’s or something.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “What will the kid say when he sees us?”

  “Leave that to me,” Riddick said and ended the call.

  • • •

  He climbed back to the bridge to find Darwin sitting back in the captain’s chair, at ease piloting the yacht. When he saw Riddick reemerge from the bowels of the ship, he started to get up, but the pirate placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nah. Stay there, lad. You’re doing fine.”

  Darwin looked back, laughed, and said, “If you say so.”

  Riddick pointed at the green waters ahead. “Just watch out for any sandbars. You’ll be OK.” He reached into a cooler behind the passenger bench and withdrew two ice cold Coronas. He offered one to Darwin, who declined, and returned one to the melting ice in the cooler.

  “Everything OK?” Darwin asked.

  Riddick took a long pull on the Corona before answering. “Aye, it is. It is. All is well.” He took another drink. A line of seagulls flew past overhead. Their squawks sounded like derisive laughter. One pooped on the deck, which didn’t surprise Riddick. He was used to birds of all sorts using his yacht as a bullseye.

  On this trip, Riddick had come to know the gentle giant piloting the ship. About his rough childhood. How they shared the same college alma mater. How Darwin was making his professional start as a lowly archivist at the Natural History museum in Raleigh. While Darwin didn’t say as much, Riddick gathered the young man led a lonely life. That he never quite fit in wherever he has been. He didn’t seem to have a plan or many goals. Just takes things one day at a time.

  “Do you like working at the museum?” Riddick asked.

  “It’s OK. I have to start somewhere.”

  “What do you ultimately want to do?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t really know before this trip. I was just now thinking that after this trip I’d love to get into marine archaeology, particularly searching for lost ships.”

  “If we find this treasure, lad, you’ll be able to do anything you want in that field.”

  Darwin smiled. “That’d be good.”

  Riddick took a pull from the Corona and studied the young man as he navigated the ship. His posture and body language—the slump of his shoulders, early wrinkles around his eyes and brows—suggested a hard life. One not full of joy and good times.

  “Darwin, my boy, are you happy with your life?”

  The question was not one Darwin had ever really considered. Throughout his childhood, no one encouraged him to do anything with his life. His mom was always unhappy. Usually angry and didn’t want to be bothered. She treated Darwin as more of a burden than anything else. His happiness was not at the top of her to-do list.

  He just . . . existed.

  He watched a line of about a dozen pelicans fly by and land together in the rolling tide off to their left.

  He said, “You know, I’m not now, but I think I’m getting there.”

  Riddick placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I think you’re a brave young man who has never had a decent shot.” He took another drink of beer. “I’d like to give you that shot.”

  Darwin took his eyes off the waters ahead and turned to Riddick. “How do you mean?”

  He removed his hand from Darwin’s shoulder and sat back, took a sip of the cold beer and said, “What we are doing right now is one of my main hobbies outside my shipping company.”

  “What is that?”

  “Treasure hunting.”

  “Oh.”

  “I became interested in it about twenty years ago. My father had a place on the shore out at Ocracoke where we used stay on the weekends during the school year and then all summer. The summer before I graduated from college, four of my friends and I were there for a few days. We took a boat out along the shore and ducked into a small lagoon with clear waters. It wasn’t very deep, only maybe fifteen to twenty feet. We had a cooler of beer and some sandwiches with us. We planned on being out for the afternoon. Just having some fun.”

  “Sounds like a good time.”

  “It was. I dropped anchor and we hung out for a while there. We all got a good buzz going and went for a swim. Some of my friends started arguing about who the best swimmer was for some reason. One suggested having a contest and seeing who could dive down the furthest. In our d
runken reasoning, we didn’t about how exactly we’d be able to judge who won.

  “So, two of my friends went under before me. They were under maybe thirty seconds or so before resurfacing. I’d been around the water all my life and thought I was a good swimmer. I knew I could hold my breath for longer than those guys could. I took a deep breath and went down, down, down.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, the lower I went, of course the water got darker. I actually touched bottom. The light was dim, although I could still see what was there in my vicinity. Right at the very edge of my vision, I saw something sticking out of the sand that had a straight line to it.”

  “Oh man. Nature doesn’t create straight lines.”

  Riddick winked and pointed a finger. “Exactly.” He finished off the beer and continued, “By that time, I knew I had to get back to the surface before I drowned. Knowing that, I kicked a few strokes towards it. I couldn’t believe my eyes, Darwin. There was a freaking wooden boat sitting down there.”

  “Wow. What did you do?”

  “I kicked back to the surface as quickly as I could. My friends were blown away that I’d been under so long. They thought I had drowned. One of my friends was sitting on the deck and I yelled for him to throw me a flashlight. I caught my breath and went back down. This time, I came straight down on it. It was small. It was a rowboat that may have come from a pirate vessel. The grotto we were in was the type of place, well hidden, that pirates might navigate into to make repairs to or careen a ship.”

  “That’s incredible. You must have been excited.”

  “Oh yes, lad. More to the point, I was hooked. I knew I had a future ahead of me being involved in my father’s business. I knew from being around the ocean in this part of the world that there were many old shipwrecks from the early stages of New World settlement that had never been found, many laden with riches beyond our imaginations.”

  “Have you found any?”

  Riddick gave a pained expression. “A few. Nothing big like the trail we’re on now. I was close to finding the Golden Fleece that John Chatterton and John Mattera found in 2009 down in the Dominican Republic and another ship that eventually Mel Fisher discovered in 1985 off Key West. That one was one of the first shipwrecks I went after. I came up short. I knew it was near there, although I couldn’t pinpoint the exact spot. That one was worth nearly half a billion dollars.”