Many of us have traded coins to "trade up" or shift directions as our collecting interests evolve. Years ago, a dealer told me the secret to collecting was starting off with a mongrel pup and eventually ending up with a pedigree dog through clever negotiation and a bit of luck. Bartering like that keeps the hobby interesting, especially during years when cash is a bit lean. Some years back at the Tulsa Gun Show, I traded an 18th-century flintlock pistol for 10 Morgan dollars when I was putting together a type set. But recently, I pulled off a trade that tops them all. I’ve been collecting Spanish Colonial and shipwreck coins as a side interest for a couple of years. One of the "holy grails" of shipwreck collecting are pieces recovered by Mel Fisher and his team from the Nuestra Señora de Atocha. Fisher coins are generally categorised from Grade 1 to Grade 4, with Grade 1 being the highest quality. I owned a Grade 4 piece—it had paperwork listing a different weight than the coin itself, but it was independently verified in the Fisher Archives. It wasn't a great coin, as it wasn't fully round, but it was an authentic Atocha piece nonetheless. Considering that around 110,000 coins of the original 250,000 on the manifest have been recovered, there are no shortage of them but they seem to hold their value despite some recent shenanigans over fake provenances. Recently, I spotted another Atocha cob on eBay listed by a seller in Germany. It was a Grade 3—much nicer than mine, edging toward a Grade 2. The auction was ending with no bids. The seller had done himself no favours in the listing by stating he doubted the COA was original and that the Fisher Museum couldn't help him without original proof of purchase. I admired his honesty but that created roadblocks for him selling it. He was open to offers, so I messaged him. He wrote back saying he was nervous about shipping outside the EU due to customs and potential loss in the mail. I felt confident the coin was genuine, so even though he wouldn't ship it to me, I offered to help him verify it through my archive contacts. We ended up chatting. He looked up my area in Wales, admired the coastline, and mentioned that living in landlocked Berlin made him miss the ocean. He joked that if I sent him a plane ticket, he’d hand-carry the coin to me. I made a fair cash offer considering the paperwork risks, but then his proposal evolved: "What if you paid for my flight, hotel, and rental car for a week?" In an impetuous moment, I countered: "That full package doesn't stack up, but I'll buy your air and train tickets, you can stay with us for a week, and I'll show you around." By this point, I felt confident in his honesty. I also made clear that if the coin turned out to be fake upon arrival, there’d be no sour grapes on my end (caveat emptor). The deal was struck and I sent him the tickets. He flew over two weeks ago with the coin in hand. This is the coin. Along with the coin, he brought an old German dealer tag, the original Mel Fisher tag, and the suspicious copy of the COA. As soon as I saw the paperwork, the issue was obvious: a previous owner had photocopied the original certificate onto parchment cardstock, but had artistically added background images of Spanish galleons. The snag? The added images were of the Spanish Armada—an event from 1588, 34 years before the Atocha sank in 1622! The additions had nothing to do with the Atocha, creating the false impression that the document was a total fake. This is what the original certificates look like. This is the "modified" certificate. As for my original Grade 4 coin: NGC previously declined to grade it because the weight didn't match the torn, coffee-stained COA that it arrived with. Now that I’ve traced its entry in the Fisher Archives, I plan to resubmit it with the new provenance documentation. We had a fantastic week with our guest. I hired him an e-bike for the days I was working, took him on a fast RIB boat tour to see wild seals, and took him fishing, where he caught his very first fish—and ate his own catch that evening." We’ve always enjoyed hosting friends and guests over the years, but my wife naturally raised an eyebrow at opening our doors to a complete stranger off eBay. Still, having built up a good rapport beforehand—and taking people as I find them—it turned out to be a brilliant experience. He saved money on a holiday, I secured a great Grade 3 Atocha cob, and best of all, a 400-year-old piece of silver brought two people together across borders who would never have met otherwise." So, that’s the wildest trade deal I’ve ever pulled off. What’s yours?
