those two boulders halfway up the hill, one a little larger than the other and side by side … In this indistinct light their edges softened and they blended together looking almost like … Something was crouched there. Abruptly I switched my eyes elsewhere. I mustn’t think of such things. I fastened my eyes on a little shrub on top of the hill, no harm in that. I knew what a scrawny, scraggily thing it was, and that it was only waist high. But from down here it looked thick and bushy, and man high. Maybe thick enough and high enough for someone or something to hide behind. Again, I pushed these ideas away. But no matter how I tried, frightening thoughts kept sliding into my mind. I thought of calling Bob but how could I call out when every time I tried to swallow, my throat stuck together. Walking carefully and trying to think nice thoughts, I studied the apple tree over to my left. How lovely it must have looked this spring when in full blossom. Now, its foliage was thick and it hung heavy with growing fruit. But it was an old tree in spite of its abundant growth; it was stunted and gnarled and the fruit was wormy. And rising straight up from the middle were stark bare limbs … grotesque arms, menacing me. My heart began to pound. Suddenly I felt a sharp, icy breath on the back of my neck and my hair lifted. A soft moan went through the trees and across the island, then dead silence. I knew it was only a predawn breeze, but it left me trembling and wishing I’d had enough sense to stay in bed. By the time I reached the top of the hill I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find Captain Kidd himself, waiting there.
I walked along to the shack as nonchalantly as I could, but with the feeling that something was behind me. I was too scared to look back, knowing that if anything was there I’d be frozen with fear, unable to escape.
Finally I reached the door, and grabbed the handle. I pushed, but the door wouldn’t open. I leaned against it and pushed harder, still it wouldn’t open. By now the spiders really were crawling up and down the back of my neck. I pushed again, “Oh, God, why won’t the door open?” Then I remembered. The door opened outward.
Once inside I let out a big sobbing sigh, then crept into bed, shaking and trembling, damning cows, treasure hunting, deserted island, but most all, damning that fool boatman.
Working in Eden
CHAPTER 6
Nature study had never been a big part of Mom’s life before the move to Nova Scotia, but with plenty of time for exploration and observation, she and Ricky found themselves captivated by the ever-changing sea and the animal and bird life that flourished on Oak Island.
On the other hand, Dad and Bobby had little time to enjoy the pleasures of nature, though they often felt the brunt of it. For them, life on Oak Island was hard physical labour, but they revelled in it. There were never enough daylight hours.
Due to numerous searches on the island, the original Money Pit had become so eroded and damaged that a new shaft was put down in 1931 by Mel’s father, William Chappell, where the original Money Pit had been. Later, Gilbert D. Heddon built another shaft right beside Chappell’s. Neither of them was exactly over the original Money Pit, but together they had it covered. Chappell’s shaft was now breaking down, but Heddon’s shaft was still in good condition; Dad planned to use that for his descent into the Money Pit.
It was a struggle to get the pump in place. Dad and Bobby were glad they had taken the time to build the A-frame bridge over the Money Pit. They used it to lower the pump down the shaft to 145 feet and to keep the weight of the massive pump off the cribbing of Heddon’s shaft. Dad was surprised and pleased to find that the fish oil grease generously lathered all over the pump parts had kept the pump in perfect condition all those years, even though it had been used to pump salt water.
July 25th, 1960
Dear Fred,
Got the wire rope Friday, July 22nd, thanks very much.
Got the pump completed and the cooling problem licked about 14th. Pumped out 30 ft. water July 15th approx and on July 17th pumped out 50 of water in 6 1/2 hrs.
We now have everything ready at last and this next four to five weeks should bring it up. It’s a nerve-shattering job. So many unforeseen things come up, it seems just to plague you. This thing is a pressure job.
The long drain across the island is full of sand and when you pump it down 10 ft. it comes in slowly. When you pump it down further it comes in at a rate just in proportion to the pressure difference … Now we definitely know that at the level we are interested in (118 ft. from the hilltop) we have to remove 140 or 130 ft. [of water]. Measuring from the hilltop, this is from 98 to 108 ft. of water or 49 to 54 lbs. pressure and at this depth the inflow is 450 gallons of water a minute.
This is well within the capacity of the pump but even though the motor is mechanically like new, you can break pump shafts. They have done it before and with motors you can have trouble. If we have to shut down, the water comes in so fast you have to pump 3 days (6 barrels of gas) to get the water out again.
We have this drain problem pretty well untangled. It’s crazy how things go but we couldn’t check the drains with Fluorescent Quinine as planned because nature has made this bay full of this stuff. Dye is no use because it spreads so and gets so much weaker with mixing, and the sand in the tunnel filters out half the salt from the water and takes out anything like clay. So all our attempts of this kind only gave us a lot of knowledge of what didn’t, wouldn’t or couldn’t work.
No wonder this thing has been unsolved 165 years. When all these things failed to trace the tunnel, we went back to digging and sure worked at it. We now have got the solution the hard way. I am enclosing a few pictures.
We are all ready to wind up this job and bring up that loot. As I wrote you before, I need the rest of the money as this stage of the job has to be carried right through. We have finally found exactly how the pirates intended to shut the water off, and we are going to do it their way except that we will use cement.
Regards to all. It won’t be long now.
Sincerely
Bob
The pictures are of the A-frame over the Money Pit, both under construction and completed. There is also a picture of a heavy flow of water coming out of the pump discharge pipe. A note on the back in Dad’s handwriting says, “The first time water has been pumped out since 1942.” Bobby’s journal reports that the water was salty: sea water, no doubt coming from Smith’s Cove.
Dad’s comment about knowing “exactly how the pirates intended to shut the water off” pertained to his belief that the original design would have included a place to intercept the inlet tunnel. Perhaps they planned to remove some stones and earth, put a sail from their ship into it, and pack it with clay. That would have served as sufficient obstruction to the sea water. No sails and clay for Dad, however; he would use cement.
The men went back to trying to locate the inlet tunnel in Smith’s Cove to stop the flood of sea water. In light of the cost of running the pump, this was the most economical solution and would allow a leisurely search in the Money Pit area. It was also the safest way to retrieve the treasure.
Always one to put safety first, Dad believed that working down the Money Pit with pumps running should be a last resort. This was no freshly excavated mine in hard rock or clay. The Money Pit and the surrounding plateau were now honeycombed with shafts and tunnels left by those who did the original work and all of the searchers who followed. The connections and near connections created an underground labyrinth. Once, when Dad pumped water from the Money Pit, a hole melted in the ice covering the large pond (dug in 1951 by Mel Chappell) that was two hundred feet northwest of the Money Pit. Another
