It’s a Pirate’s Life For Me

The monohull cruised over the waves, the bow rising and falling with the height of the ocean. I sat on the edge with my feet dangling over the side as cool water splashed on my bare legs. Hanging onto the handrails, I smiled as I took in the ocean view. We were headed to another island in the British Virgin Islands. It was just as big and beautiful as the last, with a sheltered cove that would be our next overnight stop.

“Alright Ash, can you help me with the sails?” my dad yelled from the helm. I nodded, getting up from my perch to lower the jib while he steered us toward the channel. 

My mom and brother were sitting in the cockpit. Mom with a book, brother with some red and white rope in his hand. He was in charge of the mainsail. He lowered it while I stood near the mast to guide the thick material into the cover. 

After using the engine to get us to the mooring ball, we all sat in silence when it was turned off. Only the sounds of the ocean reached us then. Birds sang overhead, waves lapped against the hull, and the wind slapped the lines against the mast. 

We were in paradise. 

I was the first to stand. I climbed to the bow to stare down at the crystal blue water. We had maybe twenty feet of depth and I could see most of the way down. Small fish darted below, navigating through swaying grass that covered patches of sand. 

“Is there snorkeling around here?” I asked.

My dad smiled wide at the idea. “Not too far away if we take the dinghy!” 

I leaped back to the cockpit to quickly grab my mask. I already had my bathing suit on, as did the rest of my family. I wasn’t sure if we’d gone a day yet without going swimming.

We took the small boat to a different part of the island. We tied up to a mooring ball and I saw several other dinghies in the area followed by bright snorkels sticking out of the water, flippers splashing behind them. 

I jumped in. My family followed. Mom was last, though she did come for a little bit. Usually, her water activities involved sitting in a tube with a book or drink in hand, nothing else. 

I kicked around the reef, eyes wide as I watched the fish swimming beneath me. Blue, pink, orange, yellow. Almost every color of the rainbow was represented. The reef had patches of white, which I would later realize meant death, while brain coral and purple fans had grown on top. I floated above, looking down, enjoying the feeling of water keeping me buoyant. 

Mom had left the water after maybe twenty minutes. I needed at least another hour. There was too much reef to see. I wanted to see every single crevice, every fish, and maybe even spot a turtle. 

Then something caught my eye. The ridge of a brownish-white surface was too sharp to be coral. I peered closer and saw what looked to be an old steel lock on the front. Only the edge of a box stuck out from the sand, mostly blending in with its environment, so buried that I had almost passed it by. 

It was definitely a box. One at least two feet wide, and old. The lock on the front proved that. 

I blinked several times. There was no way. 

“Dad,” I called after taking the snorkel out of my mouth. I yelled several more times before he heard me. He peered at me through his goggles, eyebrows furrowed. I gestured erratically for him to come closer and said, “you need to see this.” 

He kicked closer until he was right above the box I had found. He took several seconds to really look it over, to see what I saw buried ten feet below our bodies. Then he looked up at me with an excited look on his face that I could only guess mirrored my own. 

“Buried treasure,” he said. 

“Can we get it? Please, we need to open it.” I was almost panicking.

Dad nodded before diving down to the coral. He examined the box more closely but didn’t want to touch it, not until he could figure out a way to do it without harming the coral.

“It’s too buried. We’d need tools,” he said, his voice even and calm. Why wasn’t he more excited? How could he be so practical when I was a teenager who had just stumbled across the greatest mystery of my life? 

I pictured a crane, wondering if we’d need something that large to get it out. We didn’t see the depth of this box. It could be ten feet long for all we knew. Maybe we’d even have to blow up the coral to get it. At the very least, we’d need a shovel, and I wasn’t sure where we could get one of those.

“I can’t leave this spot though,” I said. 

“I can’t leave you out here,” Dad reasoned. He was the one who drove the dinghy, and Mom didn’t want to stay with me out there either. Not when it would take thirty minutes before we got back. 

“Fine. I’ll remember where it is.” 

“I will too.” 

We scoped out the world below, noting large coral formations that could lead us back. Reluctantly, I followed him back to the dingy, radiating with excitement as I told the rest of my family about what I’d found. 

“It was buried treasure. I’m sure it was.” I looked at Josh, hoping he’d share my enthusiasm. 

“You didn’t see treasure,” he said instead. 

“We did. It had an old lock and everything,” Dad chimed in, but that still didn’t get through. 

“Maybe. I’ll have to see it,” Josh replied. Even now, maybe eight years later, he doesn’t believe my story.

When we got back to the forty-foot sailboat, I rifled through the drawers, looking for anything I could use to get the box out. I settled on a metal butter knife. I could saw through the coral and also use it as a lever. It was genius. 

Dad and I were the only ones to go back out to that snorkel spot. I swam around with determination and that knife in my hand, ready to find a million dollars in the form of a pirate’s treasure that had been lost over a hundred years ago. 

We swam around for an hour. All of the coral looked the same. I couldn’t remember the images of the large coral formations that were supposed to guide my way. My father was just as lost. I could see the resolve in his features the more time went on. We swam in circles. We must have searched the entire reef two or three times over before we finally gave up. 

It was gone. 

The image of this box is still in my brain today. It haunts me in my sleep. Have you encountered a mysterious object during your travels? Feel free to drop your story in a comment below!