Treasure Hunt

We once lived on an island (Whidbey) where most certainly at one time or another pirates had buried treasure along with the obligatory skull-and-crossbones (map) and ‘X’ (ground). 

At least they had if I had anything to say about it.

We had just finished reading “Blackbeard’s Ghost” to our kids and in keeping with the nefarious nature of this ne’re-do-well, I filled a small chest with the sort of things pirates of the smaller sort would treasure – gold coins (foil-covered chocolate), and various and sundry trinkets and baubles. 

Then I buried it.  On the very edge of a cliff (small embankment), only accessible by the very adventuresome (ladder), and the exact spot most definitely marked by a large X scraped into the soil at the base of the gnarly old dead oak that frowned over it all.

On a dark and stormy night (warm sunny afternoon) with near-uncontrollable excitement I unrolled my discovery of an edge-charred, yellowed-and-sweat-stained, parchment before my eyes-wide-with-wonder children. 

It was a map.  And not just any old map either.  Clearly evident dead center, scrawled with gunpowder, were Blackbeard’s real-name initials themselves - “E.T.”  With this astoundingly incredible find in one hand and shovel in the other, our son raced down the beach following the clues connected by the dotted lines, his more timid sisters in tow. 

After explaining that the parallel lines with the hatch marks on the map were not railroad tracks, that those came much later, I suggested to the impatient little treasure-hunters that they should scout about for something similar.  That’s when they found the rickety ladder-like contraption ‘hidden’ against the bank.

With sisters holding, and a “are-you-sure-this-is-safe?” whisper from their ignored-mother, the bit-braver brother made his way to the top, and sure enough below the old oak tree there was the X, still, etched into the soil.  The dirt began to fly.

To this day I’ll never forget what happened next. 

There was the unmistakable resounding thud of shovel against wood.  Without even verifying the treasure chest had been discovered, our son lifted both hands high over head, clenched fist with one, shovel silhouetted against the sky in the other, accompanied by a shout that what had been sought had been found.    

There’s an ancient proverb that in its wisdom provides both a warning and a reward.  ‘What you diligently seek,’ the saying goes, ‘you’ll find.  Be careful then what it is.’