Written by the TreasureGuidie for the exclusive use of the Treasure Beaches Report.
I woke up this morning and started thinking about what stuck out in my mind about the time I spend metal detecting. I can't say metal detecting is the most important thing in my life. It is certainly not, but it does provide a lot of fond memories. I think the metal detecting memories come to mind so easily simply because I have been writing about metal detecting daily for many years. When you tell the stories, especially taking enough time to write them down, they are imprinted in your mind more strongly. And when I woke up this morning, I was thinking about what I'd post, so there it was. That is what I was thinking about. If I thought about my childhood, family or professional life, I suspect the same thing would flood my mind. I'm sure that is true.
But while I'm thinking of metal detecting, it does seem that there are a lifetime of memories. Some much more prominent than others, but the longer I reflect, the more images and memories come into view. It seems lie I could do that all day and there would be no end of the times that come to mind.
Some types of memories are more prominent than others. Among the first that come to mind are the most amazing days of especially big or multiple finds. And there are many firsts. My first ring, for example. That goes back probably forty something and maybe fifty years, I would guess without looking up the date. I might have my scribbled records of that somewhere.
I remember the first time I found silver on John Brooks beach. I remember it well, maybe partly because I've told the story before or maybe I would have remembered that anyhow.
But it was almost in front of the beach access. I picked it up and handed it to my wife. It was just a thin slice of blackened silver. She was going to toss it. I remember telling here not to keep it. I wanted to take it home and test it and was glad I did. It wasn't anything great, but I finally found my first piece of Spanish shipwreck silver. Many first-finds, such as my first ring or first piece of shipwreck silver stick out in my memory.
The first time I found several reales in a very short time, was also a very memorable day. That day it was the freezing cold. I've told that story before too. Again, there was no one else on the beach. I did see one fellow walk out onto the beach, but after feeling the freezing wind, he simply shook his head and left.
In contrast, there was the day I found my nicest solitaire diamond ring. That was another combination of a great find and a strikingly memorable day. It was shortly after sunrise. Again, I was the only one on the beach. It was very quiet. It was early enough that the sea was still at rest. The morning breeze hadn't yet begun. The sun was bright, the sky blue, the ocean was bathwater crystal clear, and as my scoop lifted just an inch or so, the sand slid away, and I could see the diamond sparkle through the water. It was an amazing sight.
Many of my best detecting days come to mind. There were those two mornings in the water off Fort Lauderdale when the bottom was carpeted with good targets on every foot of sand. I remember telling Kevn Reilly of Reilly's Treasured Gold that I found $20 in quarters alone in during a four-hour hunt. I've told before about the rings I found those two days before the treasure window closed.
Or the day after Hurricane Andrew when I found a carpet of silver on an uncovered coral outcrop on one end of Key Biscayne.
I could go on like this for as long as I think about it but I'll go back to the beginning.
It seems that what I am is a collection of memories. I remember my first time metal detecting. That goes back more than fifty years, but I can't say exactly how many years ago it was. I've told about it before. My grandmother got a Radio Shack metal detector and we went out to the old home site in the hills where she lived for a while as a child. Only the stone chimney stood, but there were other obvious remains of an old house that could be found between the brush and weeds. We didn't find coins, but we did find a few iron artifacts. I was totally unimpressed by the few rusty finds.
I played with the detector a few times after that but didn't continue metal detecting for some years. I doubted the Radio Shack detector would even find a coin, but maybe it was my fault. I really didn't know how to use it very well.
If I took that same old detector out to the same site today, I'm sure I'd have more luck and a lot more fun with it. I now know enough to find things even if the detector isn't very good and I'd appreciate the finds more now even if they are rusty or not worth anything. Any small token of grandma's early life would be enough. In fact, just to stand there once again and remember would be enough. I'd appreciate the times feel the memories.
If I took that trip again, the road would take me past the historic brick church where I went to Sunday School for a week one summer as a little child. I remember throwing stones at the old, weathered outhouse behind the church. I think I got scolded for that.
I'd pass the baseball field where I played little league ball and hit a home run to right field.
I'd pass the old farm buildings that were converted to a restaurant called the Mansion House where we our family would eat on special occasions. They served what they called family style. They put the meal on the table just like you would for a big family meal at home and you'd pass the platters around and serve yourself.
The road would then take me through the village of Prosperity and the cemetery where my parents and grandparents now lie. Then through the covered bridge over the winding creek and up over the hill to whatever if anything now remains of the home site. I'd stand on the unpaved road looking through the wild cherry trees down green valley and remember throwing stones far as I could and grandpa smiling and commenting on how far I could throw.
It turns out my metal detecting trip with grandma and grandpa wasn't so much about metal detecting after all. I thought we went out to find coins or gold, as unlikely as that would be, but now I know better. It took all these years to finally realize what it was really all about. It was a lovely trip.
Have a good trip,
TreasureGuide@comcast.net.