L L flooring, MARL flooring punto comin stark elist e L L floring, lumber liquidate verses LAL flooring through. Yes, maybe it should be in the effects of an unusually dry summer causing unfamiliar variations in the color of the grass, Or perhaps it was just the way the light had
fallen that morning which caused Donald to take notice. Either way, if there was one thing the three farmers now standing over the peculiar impress in the ground could agree on, it was that none of them had seen it before. Donald had called on them as soon as he'd found it that morning, suggesting they come and check it out
for themselves. Seemingly manufactured, it looked like a thirteen foot wide circle had been carved into the ground, positioned in a small clearing under the bow of a large solitary oak. It was certainly strange that they hadn't come across it before. Or three of them had lived and worked on the island for a number of years, and with it being just over one hundred and forty acre's worth of land, there was belly an inch of it that they hadn't seen.
Being first and second generation immigrants themselves, the men knew only too well how transitory the local population had been through the years, But since the island was thought to have been entirely uninhabited prior to its incorporation only a few decades ago, they were stumped as to what the straight marking could be. Maybe it was just a well, or some kind of fire pit, suggested one of the men, that had long since been filled in an ancient burial mound, perhaps,
suggested another. The year was seventeen ninety five, and the place a two and a half kilometer long island known locally as Oak Island, situated just two hundred meters of the east coast of a stretch of land recent settlers
had called Nova Scotia. Perhaps it shouldn't have been such a surprise for Donald to have stumbled on something so strange that morning, for the island had always been somewhat of an enigma, a stranger in the midst The clue was in the name Oak Island, inspired by the interloping evergreen oaks that were dotted all across it, reaching upwards of ninety feet with bare trunks and flats played out canopies. They dwarfed the many surrounding pine trees that were far
more common to the region. In fact, it is said that Oak Island was the only island out of three hundred and sixty four in the surrounding Mahone Bay but was home to such a species. Perhaps they had pondered on this when they decided to make a quick excavation of the area that morning to see what they might find, or perhaps they did not. Nonetheless, there was little chance they could possibly have anticipated just quite what was going
to happen next. You're listening to Unexplained and I'm Richard McClean smith Into the Abyss Part one. The men had only made it two ft down when one of them struck something hard. Assuming it to be a large rock, he tried digging a few feet to the side, only to hit something similar again. It wasn't until they'd cleared more of the earth away that they discovered the entire area of the circle had been covered over with flat stones.
After removing the slabs, a few more hours of digging revealed some kind of pit that seemed to narrow to about seven foot in diameter under the flagstones. With the soil having been obviously displaced and refilled before, it was easy to follow the contours of the original dig. Pickaxe markings on the inside of the wall gave further indication of the previous excavator's work. By the afternoon, having reached just under ten feet in depth, one of the men
struck something solid again. Clearing the mud away, they found a layer of rotting timbers that had been carefully positioned deep below the surface. Believing they might finally have an answer to the purpose of the pit, the men pulled up the wood, only to find an empty two foot pocket of air underneath. Undeterred, they continued to dig until the early evening, making it a further eight feet down,
when once again their shovels struck timber. Utterly Perplexed, the men pulled up the next row of logs, only to find nothing but dirt underneath. With the light fading quickly and not having ladders long enough to dig any further, the men call it a day. Any suggestion of the pit being a burial chamber has been thoroughly dispelled, since, despite being twenty feet down already, they had found nothing to show for their efforts. But in the days that followed,
slowly something began to dawn on them. A clear reason why some one might go to all the trouble of digging a secret pit on the edge of a tiny, nondescript island and fortifying it to keep it safe. Back in seventeen o one, in the city of London, a man had been condemned to death and eventually hung at the infamous Execution Dock, located in Wapping on the banks
of the River Thames. His name was William Kidd, and, like many of the unfortunates for whom Execution Dock would be their final destination, he was a pirate there was much a victim, as he was a participant of the rampant scheming and corruption perpetuated by British gentry in matters of trade and expansion. Kidd had none the less exhausted all favors by the time the noose was placed around his neck, and though his life would be short, his
legend was only just beginning. It had long been suspected that Captain Kidd had buried a significant portion of his stolen wealth in an effort to curry favor lest he ever be captured. Indeed, a large stash of it had already been discovered shortly before his execution on Gardener's Island, a small outcrop at the northern tip of New York State,
but few believed there wasn't more. And if you were looking for somewhere to hide a treasure trove of gold and jewels, far from the usual shipping lanes of the trade, as Donald, Anthony and John would shortly come to believe, you couldn't have found a better spot than the anonymity and seclusion of Oak Island. Returning to the site a few days later, convinced of their destiny, the men managed a further fifteen feet, but were left disappointed, finding only
another shelf of timber. Frustrated and realizing they had neither the skill or the financial means to carry on, the men were forced to bring an end to their adventure. Also, they had all told each other in truth, John Smith had very different ideas. Over the next few years, Smith surreptitiously secured ownership of the pit, buying up the land
and a number of the plots around it. Finally, by eighteen oh three, along with three other investors, with whom he formed the Onslow Company, he was ready to tackle the mystery again. Before long, they had made it to another five feet down, where again they mind yet another floor of timbers, but this time there is something else, a layer of charcoal scattered across the top of it.
Since it was common to use charcoal fires to draw fresh air into mining shafts, it was now clearer than ever that a significant operation had once taken place here. The company soon make it to almost ninety feet in depth, uncovering a further four timber shelves, each at ten foot intervals, and incredibly layers of coconut fibers, suggesting that whatever was down there had likely traveled from some distance, the nearest
cocoanut trees being thousands of miles away. Not only that, but as the men well known, cocoanut fibers were often used to pack precious cargo. Then, at ninety feet down they find something extraordinary. Having anticipated finding another layer of wood, the team instead find a thick slab of stone measuring
two feet long and one foot wide. Peeling it carefully from the mud, they are astonished to find there is an inscription carved on to its under side, only it's not in any language that they have ever seen before, made from thirty nine geometric symbols spaced out over what seems like eight words. It appears to be some kind of code. A short time later, the workers notice water seeping up from under the hole, but decide to ignore
it and continue to dig. That afternoon, at roughly ninety eight feet, once again, the shovels hit wood and a ninth timber platform is unearthed. After prising the logs apart, only to find more mud and clay below. The team finished for the day, convinced they are only feet away
from the objects of their wildest desires. Spirits are understandably high when the crew return to work the following morning, only to find a solemn looking John Smith waiting for them by the pit, wringing his hat in his hands. The pit has completely filled with water. Are you always taking care of your family? Do you often take care of others and not yourself? Now it's time to take care of yourself, To make time for you. You deserve it.
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a mechanical pump. The plan works perfectly as the water is soon drained from the pit, but then, with only eight more feet to go, disaster strikes when the pump breaks down. By the end of the day, the water line is back to where it started. Believing they knew roughly where the treasure might be, the team dig a second tunnel, from which they planned to dig across to
the first one. Once they had reached the required depth of a hundred and ten feet or so, but the crew only make it as far as twelve feet before their access pit is also completely flooded. Having run out of money, the Onslow Company is forced to give up, and so the pit secrets will remain submerged by water for the next forty years. As for the stone, with its peculiar coded markings, it is left in the possession of John Smith, the landowner and one of the pit's
original discoverers. However, believing it to be worthless, the code is never deciphered and the stone soon forgotten about. By eighteen forty five, with Donald mccinnis having died and John Smith vowing never to waste another scent on the hopeless venture, it is left to the third of the original finders,
Antony Vaughan, to take up the reins. Now in his sixties, Vaughan, together with another seven investors, forms the Truro Syndicate, and by eighteen forty nine finally secures the rights to start his own attempt to locate the treasure. That summer, the largest team yet sets up camp and immediately gets to work draining the pit. After two weeks, they have drained
it to within five feet of the bottom. Returning the following day, however, the crew is devastated to find that once again the waters have returned, but this time they have a new plan. After constructing a wooden platform over the pit, a large drill is dropped into it, with the hope of at least determining what materials are buried
further down. They will not to be disappointed. Passing the bottom of the hole marked by the shelf of timber ninety feet down, they drill on to roughly a hundred and fifteen feet, Deciding they have gone deep enough, The crew watched with bated breath as the device is withdrawn from the depths and pulled finally into the light of day. Just as the last section is removed, something sparkles in
the light. The foreman hurriedly inspects the drill head and is astounded to find three small lengths of a gold chain as well as fibers of oak, suggesting the high likelihood that the drill had broken through the walls of some kind of chest. Finally they had found it, getting it out would be another matter, entirely owing to the
incessant flooding of water. Just as the onslow team had realized their best chance was to access it from a parallel shaft, believing the treasure to be roughly one hundred and ten feet down. Incredibly, the team managed to dig a secondary channel to one hundred and nine feet and are even able to start tunneling across before disaster strikes again, and just as if something had been suddenly uncaught, water
rushes into the pit. But as the team regroups to assess their options, one of the men notices something interesting. The water is rising and falling with the tide. Tasting it, he is amazed to find it is salty, suggesting that rather than being the water table, it must be coming from the sea. A hundred meters to the east of the dig site lies Smith's Cove, named after one of the area's earliest known settlers, Edward Smith, sometime in the
mid seventeen hundreds. Being the closest stretch of coastline to the pit, the crew naturally assume it to be the most likely source of the flood water. With the beach being fairly small, the chief engineer suggests they construct a dam to better see what they are dealing with. Making quick work, it isn't long before they have blocked off the cove and drained it completely of water. What they
discover next astounds them. The floor of the inlet is found to be completely covered with cocoanut fiber and eel grass, under which they find beech stones carefully laid out. The cove, it transpires, has been synthetically constructed and underneath all the rocks. Finally they find the source of all their problems. It is some kind of booby trap made from a series of eight inch wide drains of flat stone fanning out
like five fingers into the ocean. Together, the drains converge into one single drainage channel that disappears underneath the island, heading straight for the excavation site. The team immediately gets to work locating the main drainage tunnel in the hope of blocking it off completely. Yet another shaft is duck twelve feet to the east of the original, revealing an
underground channel of water thirty five feet down. Next, timbers are driven into the ground to block it off, and when a fourth borehole twenty feet to the south of the original is dug to one hundred and ten feet with no sign of water, it appears their plan is working. Finally, with no danger of water, making it past the blocking timbers, the team are ready to dig through to the treasure.
All is going well when within two feet of the original shaft, workers tunneling through the clay on their knees and the dark notice the walls have become wet, and soon their knees are damp, and before long their feet
and calves are drenched to the tunnel is filling with water. Mercifully, the workers are able to scramble out and get back to the surface before it is too late, while the rest of the team watch with sinking hearts as one by one the three surrounding boreholes steadily fill up with water. After trying again to unsuccessfully find the central flood tunnel, the Truroau Company's hunt for treasure is also forced to
come to an end. In eighteen fifty seven, John Smith becomes the second of the three original Oak Island treasure hunters to die. Ownership of his land is passed from his sons, who, having watched the fabled treasure pit steadily ruined their father, are only too happy to sell it on to a Henry Stephen, who in turn sells it to local landowner Anthony Graves. The Truau Company return in eighteen fifty nine for one final stab, but their considerable
efforts will once again prove futile. However, rumors about the island's apparent treasure are beginning to grow, and within two years a new crop of hunters arrive on the island ready to claim its reward. The Oak Island Association, led by Jotham McCulley, draft in over sixty men and thirty horses to a system, as well as employing the latest mining technology, from an iron pump engine to industrial sized
winches and pulley systems. However, their heavy handed approach digging three further holes and tunnels around the original pit results in yet more flooding and the eventual collapse of the original shaft, resulting in only the upper thirty feet of it now being accessible. In the process of re excavating the original pit, the pump boiler ruptures, spraying scolding water
onto a nearby worker and burning him to death. But what's worse from the perspective of the Oak Island Association, is that they are running out of money and with news of the fatal accident now spreading, there is little hope of raising fresh capital. A short time later, however, with work halted, Jotham McCulley here's a story about one of the first artifacts to be found in the original pit,
a mysterious stone inscribed with a strange cryptic message. What's more, as rumor would have it, the stone is still on the island, having apparently been integrated into John Smith's old fireplace. Wasting no time, McCully, whose company now owns the property, takes a chisel to the fireplace and sets about removing it piece by piece. He hasn't been working long when he spots one particular slab a little smoother than the others,
pressed into the wall at the back. Freeing it up, he turns it around to find, much to his amazement, a strange cryptic message etched onto the other side of it. Realizing it might be their lasts, McCully has the stone loaded onto a horse and cart and dispatched immediately to Halifax, the nearest major city. For the next few weeks, the curious stone is placed in the window of a bookshop to drum up interest in the Oak Island treasure hunt. In an effort to sell more shares to keep the
company going. Many come to view the peculiar artifact and attempt to decipher the code, but no one can crack it. Regardless, excitement generated by the stone's mysterious origins is enough to raise another two thousand dollars what equates to roughly fifty thousand today, enabling the Oak Island Association to continue their
search for a few more years. However, like all who had come before them, the company will fail, becoming the third formal syndicate, forced to admit defeat in the search for what many have come to believe is the lost treasure of pirate Captain William Kidd. A short time later, the stone is brought to the attention of James Leechi,
a professor of languages at Halifax's Dalhousie University. A keen amateur cryptographer, Leechie sets about trying to decipher the message, assuming it to be a simple substitution code, whereby each symbol simply represents a letter of the English alphabet. It is not long before Leachi believes he has cracked the code. The message, he believes reads forty feet below. Two million pounds are buried. Part two of Into the Abyss will
be released on Wednesday, twelfth of September. If you enjoy listening to Unexplained and would like to help supporters, you can now go to Unexplained podcast dot com Forward slash support. All donations, no matter how large or small, are massively appreciated. All elements have Unexplained are produced by me Richard McClain smith. Please subscribe and rate the show on iTunes. But feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas
regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own you'd like to share. You can reach us online at Unexplained podcast dot com or on Twitter at Unexplained pod. Now. It's time to take care of yourself. To make time for you, Tell a doc gives you access to a licensed therapist to help you get back to feeling your best. Speak to a licensed therapist by phone or video anytime between seven am to nine pm local time, seven days a week.
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