Chapter 1 – A Scary Celebration
Introduction
Near the warm continental beaches of southwestern Florida lie a collection of islands that are nearly level to the Gulf of Mexico. The first inhabitants were the ancestors of the Calusa (Caloosa) Indian tribe. Spanish Conquistadores followed in the 1500s and soon so did pirates who preyed upon shiploads of gold and other treasures the Spaniards were taking by force from Mexico and Brazil.
For centuries, the economy of these islands was built on fishing. During the mid-1800s, a few brave settlers from the U.S. began to homestead. Cattle were raised inland, driven to the coastal beaches and shipped to the markets in Cuba, providing work for some islanders. More settlers followed in the early 1900s after improvements were made to the rail system on the mainland.
These islands are naturally lush with mangrove swamps and tropical foliage. The area is also a haven for coconut, banana and other exotic trees, orchids and hanging moss and an amazing variety of thriving plants and shrubs.
These days, tourists flock to the warm sandy beaches for sunshine, recreation and a change of pace from the busy world.
To this chain of islands, the Carter family arrived on vacation one early November day.
The airplane bringing the Carter family to Tampa, Fla., landed on time. Mr. Carter strode purposefully toward the car rental area while Mrs. Carter, Scott and Sheila struggled with their luggage.
“So this is Florida. What’s the big deal?” 13-year-old Sheila asked as her bag fell off her wheeled suitcase for the second time. “And why won’t this bag stay put?”
“Mine isn’t falling down,” bragged her younger brother, Scott. “Stop a minute and I’ll fix yours for you.”
“Whatever,” Sheila snapped and waited while he wrapped the carrying strap around the handle of her wheeled suitcase.
“Now hold the handle like this,” he instructed.
“Whatever.”
“Where are we going first?” Scott asked after they stowed their baggage into the trunk and Dad set up the GPS.
“We’re going to a big celebration,” Dad said with a grin. “Don’t ask, Scott. It’s a surprise.”
***
Half an hour later, the family was strolling along on a beach of white sand. Along with a crowd of people, the four were waiting expectantly as an ancient-looking vessel sailed into the harbor with flags flying and cannons blazing. Soon, dozens of swarthy pirates swarmed down the sides of the ship and onto a long dock.
The family members watched as the colorfully dressed pirates charged over the sandy shore, then mingled with the crowd. The fierce-looking men began making mock threats while brandishing plastic swords. Little children squealed in pretend terror while adults exchanged threats and insults with the pirates. Beads and other treasures were passed out to the excited crowd. Cameras flashed.
Suddenly a swarthy pirate with greasy black hair lunged at 12-year-old Scott. “Young senor, would you sail with us?” he demanded in a gruff voice. “Our cabin boy has met with an unfortunate accident.”
“Who are you?” Scott demanded.
“Jose Gaspar,” the pirate replied. “I’m the most famous pirate who ever sailed these waters. The pirate thrashed his sword at them. Scott’s mouth flew open in disbelief.
“You don’t believe me, senor?” the pirate continued. “I’ve been sailing these waters since the late 1700s. Terrorized every wicked man who sailed in these coastal waters. When we captured another ship, I would give the defeated sailors a choice – join us or die.”
“Would you really kill them?” Sheila asked with wide-open eyes.
“Of course I would. A pirate can’t be too careful, you know.”
“I think it is time to move on,” Mom whispered to Dad.
“You’re a bad man,” Sheila cried out.
“I wasn’t always, young senorita,” Gaspar replied. “I was a younger son raised in a wealthy family. I was a well-educated aristocrat. Can’t you tell?”
Sheila’s expression said she was afraid to answer.
“In my pirating days, people whispered that I was a brute but I always polite while dispatching my enemies.”
Scott took a deep breath and asked: “Did you hide some of your treasure on these islands?”
“We did, young senor, but many beaches have been covered in seawater.”
“I think it is time for us to go,” Dad insisted.
“Find me later and I’ll give you a treasure map,” the pirate whispered into Scott’s ear as the family walked away.
LOOK IT UP
A global positioning system (GPS) is often used by travelers to find their way in unfamiliar locations. Based on satellite navigation, this device can give information anywhere on planet earth as long as it has an unobstructed line of sight to four or more GPS satellites.
Treasure hunting along Florida’s shores is often recreational and sometimes rewarding. For more than a century during 1500-1600s, Spanish galleons often sailed from the eastern coast of Mexico through the Caribbean and into the Gulf of Mexico along Florida carrying gold and silver, sometimes already minted as coins. While passing near the Florida coast, storms sometimes sunk ships. At other times pirates looted these ships, sunk them, then headed for the safety of the uninhabited coves and bays along the western Florida coast. Tales are told of caches of loot hidden in Florida but the greatest finds have been taken from shipwrecked vessels under the sea.
Today, it is not unusual to see someone using a metal detector along the sandy beaches in hopes of finding stray coins thrown up by the unending tides.
Chapter 2 – A pirate’s map
On the walk back to their hotel, Mom confided: “I’m glad we left. That pirate gave me the creeps. I checked out some of the other pirates and they looked like someone’s dad dressed up in a costume. That hard-weathered man could really have been a pirate. Did you notice his scar?”
“Don’t worry dear,” Dad replied. “I think this celebration was all in fun, including that man.”
Mom frowned but was quiet for the rest of the walk to the hotel.
***
“Are you awake, Sis? Scott whispered an hour after they had all gone to bed.
Sheila opened her eyes. “Why?”
“I want to go back and talk to that pirate. You heard him say he’d give me a real treasure map.”
“Scott, it’s nearly midnight. Besides, if he had a real treasure map, he would have dug up the treasure for himself.”
“Maybe not. Are you coming with me?”
“I’m not going to let you go alone.”
Together they searched the shore where the pirate celebration was still going on full force.
“So you have come back, Senor,” a voice suddenly called from behind them.
“You didn’t tell me how you became a pirate,” Scott said.
Jose smiled and a long scar showed from his eye to his mouth. “When I grew up, I became a lieutenant in the Royal Spanish Navy. We captured many enemy ships but never benefitted from the rich treasures we secured. One day in 1783, our Spanish sloop-of-war overtook a pirate ship loaded with treasure. When we discovered that our captain intended to keep all the loot for himself instead of turning it in to the Spanish authorities, some of us mutinied, took the ship and sailed off toward Florida with the loot.”
“Then what did you do?” Scott asked with wide-eyed attention.
“We knew if we were caught, we’d all be hanged, so instead we became pirates, looting other ships and then burning those we didn’t need. You see, that’s why we had to persuade the sailors on those ships to become pirates or die. Dead men tell no tales.”
“Didn’t anyone stop you?” Sheila interrupted.
“I can see, Senorita, that you don’t understand the joy that comes with a life of adventure and danger. No one could stop us. Mine was a fast ship that could outrun those who pursued us and we knew of hundreds of places to hide. The British and later the navy built by the new United States of America both tried repeatedly to capture us. For more than 30 years we managed to live by our wits.
“Thirty years? Didn’t you get tired after a while?” Sheila asked.
“Did anyone ever catch you?” Scott interrupted.
“Not exactly. By the end of 1821, we were becoming tired of the constant danger. The men and I talked it over and agreed to divide our loot and go our separate ways. Before we had carried out our final plans to hide our wealth in several caches, one of the men spotted a rich-looking merchant ship on the horizon and, fool that I was, I decided to make one last run. That ship turned out to be a disguised U.S. Navy warship full of armed men. This sailing ship was not like the clumsy older ships I could outrun.
“During the battle, my ship caught fire as the Navy men started to board it. When they were about to capture us, I wrapped a chain around myself and jumped overboard. At least that’s what my enemies thought I had done. I only pretended. I dropped the chain when I hit the water. I’m a good swimmer, swam under the water, then came up for breath concealed by floating debris from the battle.”
“Come on now. You’d have to be 200 years old,” Sheila protested.
“I am,” the pirate said and winked.
“Did you hide some of your loot on the nearby islands?” Scott asked.
“We did. Treasure hunters have found coins and even jewels around here but there’s still much left to find.”
“So where are you two headed?” Jose suddenly asked.
Sheila mouthed the words, “Don’t tell him.” It was too late.
“We’re going to spend a week on Deleon Island,” Scott said.
“Then I can guarantee that you will find treasure with this map,” the pirate said as he handed Scott an aged parchment.
LOOK IT UP
During the years of English colonization, the citizens of the 13 North American colonies depended on the Royal Navy of Great Britain for protection. When the war for independence loomed in 1775, the first American navy – the Rhode Island Navy – was commissioned by the Rhode Island Assembly. These first ships were commissioned to fight against Great Britain.
By 1780, the Continental Navy had been formed. Ships were usually manned by untrained citizen sailors and only occasionally proved themselves a threat to the professionals in the British Navy. With training from French sailors near the end of the Revolution, their effectiveness greatly increased.
When the war ended with U.S. independence, there was less need for a naval presence for a while, but Great Britain continued to plot against the young U.S. government and sometimes attacked commercial shipping vessels, impressing their sailors into captive service.
Piracy was also a problem. By 1794, six warships had been built, including the USS Constitution, partly to defend against piracy. By the spring of 1798, the Department of the Navy had been created.
By the early 1800s, pirates became an even greater threat to commerce. President Thomas Jefferson sent the Navy to reopen shipping lanes. In 1807, the British ship Leopard captured the USS Chesapeake under the pretext of looking for British Navy deserters.
When the War of 1812 broke out, British ships outnumbered the U.S. nearly 50-1. However, the American ships accounted for themselves well, winning many important battles, harassing the British and commerce as far away as the South Pacific. Over time, the U.S. Navy won the respect of many nations.
Chapter 3 – Beach art contest
A series of three bridges and two causeways give visitors access to Sanibel Island. The morning after the Pirate Festival, the Carters drove further south and crossed that watery route.
“This is the longest bridge I have ever seen,” Scott said with excitement as the family drove across the causeway. “It’s even longer than the bridge across the Mississippi River.
“Look at all the boats and all those people fishing... and there’s someone kite surfing. How cool is that? Look how high he just jumped.”
“Yes, but when he landed, he wiped out,” his sister Sheila replied, then yawned. Having recently become a teenager, Sheila had adopted a bored attitude about everything. She now saw herself as too mature to become excited by new surroundings.
After Dad turned left onto Periwinkle Drive, Scott yelled, “Stop!”
At a crosswalk just ahead, a flock of Ibis slowly strolled across the street.
“What kind of place is this where the birds obey the traffic rules?” Mom asked.
“Were there pirates around here?” Scott asked a moment later.
“I believe there were,” Mom said as she checked out the shops and restaurants along the way. “Spanish galleons would carry gold and silver through the Gulf of Mexico and on to Spain.
“What if someone found a pirate’s map, Dad?” Scott asked, grinning at his sister.
“Even if they did, the terrain would have changed,” Dad said. “The sea sometimes builds up sandy beaches on one end of an island as it tears away the land at another end.
“That’s disappointing,” Scott said.
***
By afternoon, the four Carters had donned swimsuits and were walking along the beach.
“Look at all these shells,” Scott said. “There must be a million of them.”
“Yes, but they are all so small. I thought we would find big ones,” Sheila said, sighing in disappointment.
“Let’s build a sand castle,” Scott suggested. “Bet I can build a better one than you.”
“Why bother?” Sheila replied. “It will just wash away with the tide.”
“How about I bury you in the sand?” Scott offered.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Dad and I would like to walk up to the lighthouse,” Mom said. “Do you promise not to wade into the water until we return?”
“Sure, Mom,” Scott replied.
Sheila nodded in agreement.
“I have a plan,” Scott whispered after his parents had strolled off down the beach.
“Why are you whispering?” Sheila replied, raising her eyebrows. “They’re gone.”
“I don’t want anyone else to hear, either. I’m going to use that map to find treasure.”
“You’re a fool. That man wasn’t a real pirate and I’ll bet he doesn’t know where there’s any treasure.”
“Maybe not, but will you help me try?”
“I won’t help but I won’t tell on you unless you do something dumb.”
“OK, Sheila, here’s the plan: You and I are going to have a contest making sand castles. That will give me an excuse to do some digging without getting all kinds of questions from our parents.
Sheila smiled for the first time that day. “Fooling them could really be fun.”
Scott jumped up and headed toward a plastic bucket that seemed to have been abandoned.
“I’ll start now,” he shouted.
He dug a deep moat. Transferring the extra damp sand into the bucket, packed it down and then dumped each circular sand brick into a semicircle. After he had made more bricks, he pressed matching shells into the castle to decorate it.
Once Sheila understood what he was doing, she grabbed a plastic bag that was blowing around and went off collecting shells and pieces of debris for her own creation.
“Anyone can do that,” she called. “Wait until you see what I do.”
Some time later, their parents returned.
“Did you really create these?” Mom asked, checking out Scott’s sand castle and then Sheila’s beach art. “They are both artfully unique.”
“Mine’s bigger,” Scott bragged.
“Mine’s prettier,” Sheila defended.
“Yes, Sheila. Yours is more like artwork,” Mom agreed.
“I’m glad you both are trying to enjoy our vacation,” Dad added with a sigh of relief.
Both Scott and Sheila grinned so enthusiastically that their parents looked at them with puzzlement and suspicion.
LOOK IT UP
Sanibel Island Lighthouse is on Florida’s Gulf of Mexico coast. Although boat owners and locals had been petitioning for a lighthouse as early as 1833, it was not completed until 1884. The lighthouse was decommissioned and placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1974.
Kite surfing involves using a special kite, sometimes inflated with gas like a helium balloon. The kite is attached to a harness. While riding a standard surfboard, surfers use the power of the wind to ride waves, jump high into the air or tack downwind.
Chapter 4 – Dolphins and orchids
When Sheila awakened the following morning, Mom was already repacking their clothes.
“When are we leaving for Deleon?” Sheila asked sleepily as she dressed.
“We will catch a ferry from Captiva Island this morning.”
“Is there anything to do on Deleon?” Scott asked.
“The island is very small,” Mom replied. Only about a mile long by half a mile wide. That’s why Dad and I went grocery shopping last evening while you two played video games.”
“You mean we will have to cook our own food and wash our own dishes?” Sheila asked. “What kind of vacation is that?”
“A very quiet and safe one,” was Mom’s reply. “There is a small restaurant on the island but not much else except a beach and a swimming pool. No cars allowed.”
***
Soon the family boarded a ferry loaded with noisy tourists. Above the din of conversations, a crewman using a microphone pointed out the various small islands as they passed.
“See how this chain of narrow islands wraps around the mainland,” he indicated by sweeping his hand.
“From a distance, that mangrove island seems to be covered with snow. When we come closer, you will see that the snow is a huge flock of white egrets that live there, safe from their usual predators.”
Someone whispered into the announcer’s ear and suddenly his voice became wildly excited.
“We’ll soon be passing a pod of dolphins. When we get near, make all the noise you can – clap, whistle, shout. The more noise you make, the more the dolphins will leap out of the water.
As the volume of the passengers’ shouts increased, the dolphins began to entertain them, appearing to fly above the water before splashing down again.
“Look,” Scott cried, “there are three ... wait, there are four ... look, now there’s a baby dolphin and he’s jumping too!”
For the next 10 minutes, the passengers swerved from one side of the ferry to the other, following the dolphins as they played. As the human voices, whistles and whoops finally diminished, so did the dolphins’ high leaps.
“Did the dolphins get tired first or did we?” Scott asked as they watched the pod of dolphins fade behind them.
“I think it was a tie,” Mom said.
After their children had wandered off to find more excitement, Dad motioned for Mom to come close. In his palm, he showed her two golden-colored coins.
“Are those real?” Mom asked.
“Of course not,” but I’m planning to have a little fun with Scott and Sheila.”
“You are, are you? Well, don’t get them into trouble,” Mom warned.
“Look ahead,” Dad pointed. “We are almost there.
“Only a few people will be getting off,” a voice on a loudspeaker explained. “Most of us will be returning to Captiva Island. Don’t get off unless you are sure you have a place to stay overnight. We won’t be back for two days. Follow the path to your check-in.”
“Deleon,” a crewman shouted as they pulled into the dock.
***
“Look at that white beach,” Mom muttered as they followed the path. “This island looks like photos in a magazine.”
“Deleon is a strange name,” Scott said. “What does it mean?”
“One of the first Spanish explorers was Ponce de Leon,” Mom said. “Legend says he was looking for the fountain of youth.”
“What’s that?” Scott asked.
“If you take a bath in it, you live forever,” Sheila answered quickly. “But he was also looking for gold and slaves. We learned that in school this winter.”
“Did he find any?” Scott questioned.
“No, he got killed by the Indians.”
“Are there flowers like this all year long?” Sheila asked.
“I don’t know,” Mom answered. “Just look at the varieties of orchids growing on these trees.”
“Are all the cottages white?” Scott wondered. “Seems most of them are.”
“White reflects the heat and keeps them cooler,” Mom said.
“Here’s our place now,” Dad said. “And it is white, too.”
“Wow, I can see the beach right across the walkway,” Sheila said. “Where’s my swimsuit?”
Inside, they explored the four rooms on the first floor and a large screened-in porch. An open stairway led to a large upper bedroom with a dramatic view of the beach.
“This one’s mine,” Scott claimed.
“No, it’s mine,” Sheila answered, ready to fight.
“Sorry, you two,” Dad announced. “This room will be ours.”
LOOK IT UP
Juan Ponce de Leon, a Spanish explorer, sailed to the New World with Christopher Columbus in 1492. He and his family settled on the island of Hispaniola (which now is divided between the Dominican Republic and Haiti). There he eventually became deputy governor.
In 1506, Ponce de Leon discovered a nearby island with large deposits of gold. He left, then returned in 1508 on orders from the king of Spain to explore and colonize the island (now called Puerto Rico). He was the island's governor for two years until the king replaced him with Columbus’ son.
After 1508, he began exploring again. In late March 1513, his ships landed on Florida's eastern coast. He claimed the flourishing mainland for Spain and named it Florida. From some natives, he heard of a legendary, magical spring whose water was believed to make older people young again.
After exploring the southeastern coast, seeking the fountain of youth and gold, de Leon headed north to the western coast of Florida. As he and his men explored one island looking for wood and fresh water, they stumbled across a Calusa tribal village. Attacked by the fierce Calusa, the Spanish explorers fled to their ships and sailed back to Puerto Rico.
In 1521, Ponce de Leon returned to Florida. With the idea to set up a farming colony, he brought 200 settlers, horses, tools and seeds. As the settlers moved inland, the Calusa ambushed them. Ponce de Leon was shot in the thigh by an arrow and was seriously wounded. The settlers abandoned the settlement and sailed back to Cuba, where Ponce de Leon died from that wound at the age of 61.
Chapter 5 – Treasure map
A brilliant sunrise ushered in a warm sunny day as the Carter family ate an early breakfast.
Anticipating a day at the beach, Sheila was already wearing a swimsuit.
“Is the weather always like this?” she asked.
“Because of the warm gulf water, it rarely gets colder than 60 degrees or warmer than 90,” Mom said. “Nothing to worry about but sunburn.”
“Yes, except when there’s a hurricane,” Scott interrupted as he picked up a banana.
“It’s November now, so there aren’t usually hurricanes,” Mom replied. “So what are you two going to do today?”
“I’m going out to the beach and do more sand art,” Sheila said. “I want to try something new.”
“I’m going to do one better than you,” Scott taunted.
“So what are you and Dad going to do?” Sheila asked.
“We are going to sit on the patio and relax.” Mom said.
Both Sheila and Scott gave disgusted looks.
“Let’s get going,” Scott challenged.
“What is that?” Sheila wondered as they headed across the yard of their cottage.
“It’s a dark turtle,” Scott replied. “But look, it is digging into the sandy ground like a gopher. Now all but its tail has disappeared. Guess that’s what they call a gopher turtle.”
“I’m going to work on my sand art under this palm tree,” Sheila announced.
“I’m going further down the beach,” Scott replied. “And I might come back with a surprise.”
***
Sheila spent more than an hour wading along the shore, daydreaming and gathering just the right shells for her project. She sighed contentedly as she allowed the incoming tide to tickle her feet. She giggled and shifted to keep her balance as the sand was sucked from beneath them by the waves.
Just before the sun stood highest in the sky, she finished her project and began waiting impatiently for Scott to return.
“Is it a house or a turtle or what?” he snickered when he arrived.
“It’s a house and I’ll bet it’s better than your stuff. So what have you done?”
“You’ll see,” Scott said, leading her back to his project.
“It looks like sharks and it didn’t take you long,” Sheila accused.
“We’ll let Mom and Dad be the judge of that,” Scott replied.
“By the way, I found this battered green glass bottle buried in the sand while I was searching.” Scott said. “I’m going to put the map in here and then hide it in the sand again.”
“Dad and Mom will never believe that it’s real,” Sheila insisted. “Did they even have glass in pirate days?”
“Sure,” he replied, “the Romans had glass nearly 2,000 years ago.”
***
“Lunch is ready,” Mom called to them from the porch of the cottage.
“Is that a bird in those bushes?” Scott asked, as he munched on a tuna sandwich.
Mom chuckled. “No son, that’s a bird-of-paradise flower.”
“Did you really think it would fly?” Sheila said scornfully.
“I think it is time to go see your sand art,” Dad interrupted.
“Sure,” Mom agreed. “Hope you built your projects far enough up that the tide doesn’t wash them away.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Sheila cried. “So do come right away. We want you to tell us which one is best.”
***
After they had admired Scott’s sharks, they trudged through the sand to Sheila’s sand art.
“That is lovely,” Mom said smiling. “What made you use all those tiny shells?”
“Guess I can be as artistic as my brother,” she replied.
“Sure can,” Dad agreed.
“Kids, while I’m here, I think I’ll take a quick dip in the water.” Then he winked at Mom.
He sloshed into the gentle surf and walked out for a distance, then swam a bit further. On his way back, he stooped to pick up an object, then another.
“What did you find?” Scott asked.
“Look at this,” Dad said, opening his hand. In his palm gleamed two golden coins.
“Wow,” Scott shouted. “It was that easy to find gold?”
Dad grinned and Mom stifled a smile.
“Guess I got lucky,” he said. “You saw where I picked up these. Maybe there are more.”
He had to raise his voice to finish his sentence because Scott was already halfway to the spot.
LOOK IT UP
Gopher tortoises are long-lived reptiles that have been named for their habit of digging deep burrows for shelter. They may be seen in most of Florida, including forests, pastures and yards. They feed on low-growing plants. Other animals may also use their burrows.
Sand art: Although many enjoy making informal sand castles or sand art, there are also formal competitions held in many locations for amateur and professional sand carvers. They gather from coast to coast in locations such as Long Beach, Wash.; Cannon Beach, Ore.; Imperial Beach, Calif.; Point Reyes National Seashore in California; Galveston, Texas; South Padre Island, Texas; Fort Myers Beach, Fla.; Virginia Beach, Va.; Hampton Beach, N.H., and Havre-Aubert, Magdalen Islands, Quebec.
Chapter 6 – A living museum
That evening, Scott and Sheila were arguing as the family strolled to the only restaurant on the island. Finally Dad called: “Enough already. Both your sand art projects are really good. But your mother and I are not awarding prizes.”
“The seafood is supposed to be really good here,” Dad said at the restaurant as they picked up menus.
“I’ll have a hamburger,” Scott said.
“They don’t have pizza,” Sheila complained.
“Why don’t you try the fish tacos?” the waiter suggested.
“I’ll have the grilled grouper,” Dad said.
“Shrimp and a salad for me,” Mom said. “You two really should order some seafood. It’s fresh here and tastes much better than it does at home.
“Oh, all right, I’ll have the tacos,” Sheila reluctantly agreed.
***
On the way back to the cottage, Scott asked, “Dad, if you were going to hide something on this island, where would it be?”
“I think I’d pick a spot with a feature that wouldn’t change very quickly so I could mark it.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I don’t see anywhere on this island that would stay the same for long,” Sheila said as they walked along the darkening beach. “The trees would probably be knocked down during a storm. Any markers a pirate would put out would have disappeared within a few years. I don’t even see any big rocks.”
“Are there any caves?” Scott asked. “Or maybe a high spot that wouldn’t change so fast.”
“I don’t know,” Dad replied. “Maybe we can find out at the museum tomorrow.”
***
The sun peered above the cloudy mists of morning as Scott tiptoed out of the cottage. As he strolled along the beach, he ignored the graceful brown pelicans that were diving into the water to catch their breakfast. Instead, he studied the map the pirate had given him.
The island shown here could be one of any number of islands along the western Florida coast, he thought. I can’t even tell from the treasure map how big the island is but it does have a faint X by the words “black rocks.”
As Scott carefully rolled up the parchment, bits flaked off the edge.
Back at the cottage, he hid the map in his room, then joined his family for breakfast.
“The Deleon History Museum opens at 10 a.m.,” Dad said. “I think you two should spend some time there this morning.”
“You bring us to a sandy beach and a swimming pool and then want us to spend time in a dark, musty old museum?” Sheila protested. “I can do that in the winter at home.”
“Yes, but the people who lived here long ago will seem more real when you read about them in their own environment,” Dad growled. “We’re going, kids. We’re staying for at least an hour. So be ready to leave here at 10.”
Scott groaned.
***
At the museum, Scott intently studied a three-dimensional map of the island. It seemed to be shaped very much like the one on his map, so he began paying attention as a guide droned on about the Calusa Indians who had lived on Deleon at least 10,000 years earlier.
Scott barely listened as the guide explained about the island’s higher elevation and freshwater spring that had attracted European sailors. By the time she began mentioning pirates and then a pile of black rocks at the edge of the beach, Scott gave his full attention.
“At high tide, those rocks are under water,” the guide continued. “When the tide is really low, they appear in sharp contrast to everything around them.
“Do any of you know why a pile of volcanic Precambrian rocks might have found their way to southern Florida, where the exposed rocks are limestone and coral?” she asked.
“I know,” volunteered Sheila. “We saw it when we visited Virginia. When ships didn’t have much cargo, they sometimes used local boulders for ballast. Those dark rocks could have come all the way from coastal Maine or even further north.”
“That’s exactly right,” the guide said.
Scott was barely listening again. His mind was racing.
“Could you show me on this map where those black rocks are?” he asked breathlessly.
“Yes, here they are,” the guide said, pointing to a spot not far west of the Carters’ cottage.
“When’s low tide?”
“I think it will be about 9 o’clock tonight.”
LOOK IT UP
The first human inhabitants of the islands are thought to have arrived about 10,000 years ago. At that time, more of the oceans’ waters were locked into ice at the poles. All the islands were part of the dry mainland. The Gulf of Mexico was 60 miles to the west of Deleon Island instead of on its coast. When the Ice Age ended, the sea rose to the current levels.
Seafood was abundant and the native population grew steadily.
When the Spanish came to Florida, the Calusa people controlled all of south Florida from their capital located in the area of Fort Myers. They were noted for having a culture based on fisheries. They used shells and bones for tools and participated in trade that extended far past Florida.
The British were alarmed by the colonization efforts of the Spanish. By the early 1700s, they began arming Native Americans from Georgia to attack both the Spanish missions and the Calusa Indians.
By 1711, many of the surviving Calusa were enslaved by Creek and Yamassee Indians, who worked for the British. Others fled to the Florida Keys and Havana.
In the 1800s, Cuban fishermen began catching fish in the area, preserving them in salt and selling them to passing sailors. In 1821, Spain ceded Florida to the U.S.
Fishing remained an important industry until tourism began to have a greater economic impact in the mid-1900s.
Chapter 7 – Golden coins
After sunset, Mom began yawning.
“I’m going to bed,” she decided.
“Me, too,” Sheila agreed.
“I think I’ll take a walk on the beach in the moonlight,” Dad said.
“I’ll go with you,” Scott volunteered.
As Mom walked through the cottage door, she called back: “Got headlights?”
“Better get us two,” Dad called. “These lights that strap onto our heads will be handy when the moon goes down, Scott.”
Soon, they stepped out into the night.
“Let’s walk this way,” Scott said. “I want to see those black boulders the tour guide at the museum was telling us about.”
As the moon rose and the tide continued to ebb, a mound of dark rocks appeared in the shadows.
“If you were a pirate, wouldn’t this be a good place to hide a treasure?” Scott asked.
“I don’t think so,” Dad replied. “If they had hidden a treasure in a wooden box, even one bound by iron, it would have fallen apart by now and the treasure would have been washed into the sea. But it is pleasant out here, so if you want to dig around I’ll wait up here where the sand is dry. Take one of the headlights.”
Scott spent the following half-hour digging in the moist sand but found nothing but a few protesting crabs.
The two of them headed back to the cottage for the night.
***
After breakfast, Scott and Sheila took a walk.
“Aren’t you going to show Dad the treasure map after all?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. It might be real even though I didn’t find anything last night,” Scott said, then he pointed to the boulders. “The rocks are out there are only about 50 yards away but this morning the water’s covering them. I’m going to look again this afternoon when the tide starts going out.”
Sheila wiggled her bare feet in the sand.
“Hey, Scott, what about our contest? I want another chance to make some sand art.”
As Scott walked away, he called: “OK, but I don’t want you to see what I do until it is finished.”
Sheila tried to think of the most novel artwork she could make with the shells at hand. She spent more than an hour collecting the most colorful ones she could find. Under a palm tree, she mounded up a frame of brown and white shells. In the center she shaped a heart using white shells, then edged it in speckled orange and red ones.
Scott imagined the gopher turtle they had seen. Then he laid out a larger one and surrounded it with a frame of shiny gray shells.
As he rested under a shade tree, Dad walked by and admired his work. After Dad headed toward Sheila, Scott followed him. “These are both worthy of a real contest,” Dad decided. “Wait until your mother sees them.”
***
After lunch, Scott said he wanted to go look around the boulders again.
“It’s still deep out there. I want your sister to go too and keep an eye on you so you don’t out go too far,” Mom ordered.
“Do I have to?” Sheila whined.
“Yes, you do.”
“There’s something strange about the golden coins Dad found two days ago,” Scott said as they strolled along the beach. One of them is turning green on the edge. Here, look. I think it’s a phony.”
“You wanted to fool Dad. Do you think he is trying to fool us?” Sheila asked.
“I wonder,” Scott replied.
Sheila sat under an umbrella as she watched her brother wade into waist-deep water and dig along the edge of the dark rocks with a long-handled metal spoon. He patiently angled the spoon under the partly submerged rocks and kept working until the sun was halfway down the horizon.
“We’re going to miss supper,” Sheila yelled.
Suddenly, he shouted. “Come look at this.”
In his hand he held a round object with strange markings. “I think I found one, Sheila,” he whispered as he wiped the gritty face of the coin. In the sunlight it began to gleam.
The tide had gone down some, so the water was not up to Scott’s knees. He dug some more and finally came up with what looked like a corroded piece of a metal hinge.
“I think this means there was a chest here at one time,” he proclaimed.
Digging again, he found another coin.
LOOK IT UP
After gold was found in the New World, coins such as golden doubloons were often minted in Mexico before they were shipped back to Spain. The coat of arms of the Hapsburg royal family was used on one side in honor of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, who were of that royal house. The crusader’s cross was stamped on the other side.
Many of these doubloons were irregular in size because they were minted in a hand press. Blank coins were created and then pressed against an engraved coin die, which was struck repeatedly until the design was embedded into the soft metal. Although the excess metal was trimmed away by hand, the coins were often slightly less than perfectly round when the process was completed.
By the mid-1700s, the people of the 13 colonies used coins from several nations, including English pounds, Dutch thalers, French francs and Spanish gold pieces cut into eight “bits.” Often these coins had run through the hands of Caribbean pirates.
