Drunk History

are often followed by regret, unless you're Russell Arundel. Arundel and his buddies had been drinking rum when they came up with a brilliant idea, one that would put them on the map literally. Aaron Dell was an American businessman who also worked as a lobbyist for pet Sicola. He had been traveling in Canada with some friends when he came across a tiny island about three acres inside off the coast of Nova Scotia. It was called Outer Bald Tusket Island, and up until that point it had been

nothing more than a fishing camp. The nearby community of Wedgeport on the mainland had become a popular spot for tuna fishing thanks to an international tournament that had begun back in the nineteen thirties. Businessmen and celebrities from all over North America went there to participate, including Franklin Roosevelt and Amelia Earhart. Aarondel had come to partake in a few days of tuna fishing, and he did what many wealthy capitalists do when they see something they want. He

offered to buy the place. The island's owners sold it to him for the low low price of just seven hundred and fifty dollars. All of a sudden, Arundel had his very own patch of solid ground where he could wait out his seasickness or grab a bite to eat without having to row all the way back to the mainland. He returned one year later with plans to build a small house on the island, and he hired several locals to do the work while he and some friends went

off fishing. One night, while waiting for the house to be completed, he and his buddies went for drinks at a fishing lodge in Wedgeports. They downed glass after glass of rum, and as their inhibitions waned, their ambitions grew. That's when Aaron Dell came up with what he believed to be a great idea. He was now the king of a new nation, one that would be separate from its Canadian neighbor. He and his friends drafted a declaration

of independence, renaming the island Outer Baldonia. According to them, it would only be populated by fishermen, who would have the right to lie and be believed. Women were banned, and in another predictably sexist move, they also made questioning, nagging, shaving, and interruption illegal acts. The currency of this new land was called the tunar, and all citizens who caught blue fin tuna would be declared princes. In fact, Aarondell would go on to mail over twenty letters to people that

he called acquaintances of caliber, naming them as princes. The island's primary exports would only be empty beer and rum bottles. Passports were issued, and at one time it boasted a navy of seventy admirals commanding all manner of vessels, mostly of the fishing variety. By all appearances, Outer Baldonia was as Valida nation as any other, and it had all

been started over drinks at a bar. One year later, in nineteen fifty, the principality of Outer Baldonia was listed in the Washington, Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Directory, using Aaron Dell's office phone number at the US Capitol as its point of contact. Matt Making company Rand McNally even included it on a map. For a time. Aaron Dell even tried to have Outer Baldonia stamps issued, but couldn't get

the project off the ground. As the years went on, Aaron dal stopped visiting his micro nation as frequently, and it eventually faded into obscurity. In nineteen sixty seven, reporter Nancy co interview him for a story about Outer Baldonia that she was writing for Sports Illustrated. He told her how President Truman's former vice president had asked to be the Secretary of Treasury for his country, a nation without

money or assets. By the early seventeen hundreds, Arundel had stopped visiting the island entirely, so he transferred ownership to the Nova Scotia Bird Society. Today, the islands still exists, but it's been converted into a bird sanctuary. Visitors are welcome to stop by and even hunt during the right season. Oh and the tuna fishing tournament has also returned after

a forty year hiatus. Participants who catch something aren't named princes anymore, but they'll at least be able to grab a drink with friends if they want to, just as long as no one gets any wild ideas. Maria Martin was born in Polstead, Suffolk, in the early eighteen hundreds. She lived with her stepmother and her father, who worked as a mole catcher. By the time she was twenty four, she'd already had two children out of wedlock, something that

was pretty scandalous in her day. William, quarters older brother, was one of the children's father's but William was the one who fancied Maria. His reputation as a con man and a womanizer preceded him wherever he went. Though He once sold the pigs on his father's farm without telling him and then pocketed all the money. His father settled the dispute without need for police or courts, letting William off the hook and teaching him absolutely nothing in the process.

Later on, the young William graduated from petty theft to fraud. Upon being found out, he was exiled to London until his family started to dwindle. His older brother Thomas died after falling through some thin ice while trying to cross a frozen pond. His father and his remaining brothers didn't survive the next two years, leaving William and his mother to run the family farm together, and all the while, he and Maria Martin carried on a secret love affair.

In eighteen twenty seven, she gave birth to her third child, this time by William. The arrival of the baby changed something in quarter, though, and he insisted that he and Maria get married. Even after the child died a short while later, he still wanted her to be his wife now because of her previous children, the church would never allow them to get married in a typical ceremony. Instead, William suggested Maria meet him at a local site known as the Red Barn, a house with a red clay

tiled roof that had become sort of a landmark. From there they would travel to Ipswich and Elope. A few days before they were set to leave, William came to Maria's home and warned her that the local constable was on his way to arrest her. He urged her to sneak off to the Red barn as soon as possible. William would take her belongings ahead first, while she disguised herself in men's clothing and snuck out before the authorities arrived. She'd meet him in the barn and the two of

them would leave for Ipswich. The barn was close by Maria's home. The journey wouldn't take long on foot, and once she and William were married, her legal problems would finally be behind her. She left right behind him and the two began their future together. William returned to town sometime after the wedding, except Maria wasn't with him. He said he couldn't risk to bring her along without angering her family, but they said they didn't care. They wanted

to see her. Unable to fend off her loved ones any longer, William returned to his wife, but they never came back from there. He wrote letters to her family about what they were up to and that they had moved from Ipswich to the Isle of Wight, but he wrote the letters, not Maria. Her family kept repeatedly asking to see her to get some kind of update directly from her, but William kept telling them that his wife was sick. Or that her letters must have been lost

in the mail. Meanwhile, Maria's stepmother was having dreams, vi bid dreams about her stepdaughter and her whereabouts. She dreamt that the young woman had been murdered and left to rot in the Red Barn, and after several nights of having the same dream over and over again, her husband, Maria's father, walked over to the Red Barn to put her fears to rest. Once there, he started digging where his wife told him the right hand bay of the

far side of the barn. She'd seen it in her dream so clearly, and as he dug, his fingertips brushed against something. It was cloth, a cloth sack to be precise, and after pulling it out and looking inside, he recognized its contents immediately. It was his daughter Maria. The only suspect who came to mind was William Corter, the last person to have seen her alive. They finally tracked him down to a lady's boarding house in West London, a

business he ran with his new wife Mary. The police arrested him and brought him back to Polstead for a trial. At first, he denied having killed her, but all the evidence, such as witness testimony and a green handkerchief of his that had been tied around her neck were enough to convict him. He spoke with a priest and decided that if he was going to hang for his crimes, he might as well do it with a clear conscience. So he finally made a formal confession. Yes, he had killed Maria,

but it had been an accident, he claimed. After his execution, the crowd bought pieces of the rope he was hanged with for one guinea per inch. But the dream that led to his capture, that, my friends, it was priceless. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky in partnership

with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, end television show and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious. Yeah h