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Message:: [QUOTE="Robert Ransom, post: 4328052, member: 97872"]I have proof read this article twice, but there may be grammatical errors.                        MY HUNT FOR THE PIRATE TREASURE SHIP, WHIDAH                                                    By Robert Ransom This account is solely based on my memory of events which occurred during my hunt for the sunken pirate ship Whydah. The ship was attacked and captured off the coast of The Bahamas in the early 1700’s by Samuel “Black Sam” Bellamy who decided to use this newly acquired vessel as his flagship. Two other ships were under his command. Black Sam then proceeded up the east coast toward Maine attacking ships and plundering their cargo. Sailing off the coast of Cape Cod, his ship was caught in the grips of a powerful nor-Easter, ran aground on a sandbar and ultimately capsized then sank in the waters off Wellfleet, Massachusetts. The value the treasure aboard was thought to be in the millions of dollars. Rumors exist of coins still washing up on the beach.                                                        ***  My interest in the Whidah (I spell the word ‘Whidah’ because that is what I remember) began in the spring of 1964 while I was stationed at Otis Air Force Base on Cape Cod. A fellow Airman (I’ll call him John because I can’t remember his name) and I were having a conversation at breakfast in the mess hall at four thirty on a Friday morning. We seemed to arrive at the same time every morning, sat at the same table closest to the food line and we always had second helpings. I asked what plans he had for the weekend and he replied he was would be diving with two others off the coast of the Outer Cape. I inquired further.  He told me the story of the Whidah and that he and two other men had researched the sinking and were seeking the location of the wreck and knew they were not the only ones seeking the ship’s whereabouts. Intrigued, I asked where they were searching and he replied, “I prefer to not divulge that information,” or something to that effect. Initially, I felt offended, then quickly understood. Only a fool would disclose information gained from countless hours of investigation which may help point others in the direction of the wreck. He indicated others have searched, in futility, for her remains. A few weeks after learning about the sunken ship, I happened to glimpse a pirate movie playing on a TV in the dayroom as I passed while on my way to work. This caused me to wonder if John had made any progress locating the ship mentioned weeks earlier. I decided to stop by his barracks and ask, but found he had been transferred to another air base. The thought of finding a sunken pirate ship began to simmer in my mind until a few weeks later, I decided to begin my own research. Personal computers did not exist at this time, so the only immediate source available to me was the Falmouth Public Library. After work one day, I drove there hoping to find information which would help pinpoint the location of the shipwreck. If memory serves me, I found three books written on the subject plus one or two periodicals which surprised me. Considering the shipwreck occurred off Cape Cod about 50 miles from Falmouth, I expected to find a trove of literature, but such was not the case. I think one reference book was available at the Hyannis Public Library which I planned to review at a later date, but for some reason, never did. The summation of my research at least that which I remember, is as follows. A reference to a life-saving station foundation which remained, the building long since torn down. Two books titled something like ‘Shipwrecks of New England’ and ‘The Pirate Ship Whidah’ (I think I remember the spelling of the ship because of the peculiar name. There were two articles about the ship and its sinking. Finally, I believe I saw a picture of a map of the area where the ship sank, but I don’t recall it marked with an ‘X’. The Marconi Station was also a name I remember. I read and reread the books and articles trying to envision the area where the wreck occurred and made notes of what I thought pertinent. Much of what occurred that year has been lost to father time. However, certain details, although not complete, remain for reasons that will become obvious as I proceed with my narrative.                                                            *** One weekend, I decided to visit the supposed area of the wreck to determine what obstacles I would face. A nor’easter was slated to hit the cape late in the day or early evening. I owned a 1956 Dodge, tri-color, (top-black, middle-cream and bottom green) 4 door at the time which ran like a deer and wish I still owned, but I digress.                                                                      *** I remember the day well (I think) and struck off at 6:30 am. The temperature was in the low seventies and the humidity was climbing. The sky, covered with a thick blanket of clouds, was darkening as I drove east on route 6. I, briefly, wondered whether this was a good idea, but threw caution to the wind. The predicted storm front advanced upon the Cape at a faster pace than was expected and I wondered whether it would hold until I had completed my mission. Little did I know then, as I do now, that weather events in this area of the country seem to arrive earlier than predicted, more often than not, but maybe it’s only my imagination? With less than twenty miles travel left to my planned destination, the wind speed began to increase and blow directly into my windshield from the direction of my travel which was now NNE. A big blow was going to hit soon and I wondered whether I should postpone my foray into the sands and return another day. With only a few miles remaining on the outbound leg of my journey, I threw caution to the wind and pressed onward. The naïve, fearless and impetuous young man I had become, stood tall in the face of adversity and dared it to upset my plans. I reached, what I thought was my goal, within another fifteen minutes, or so, and exited the highway onto a narrow road. After a short time, the road opened into what appeared to be a small parking area backed by a sizable sand dune. A narrow, well-trodden path, led up the dune and I could hear the sound of the waves rolling in and smell the heavy salt air. I became anxious to crest the dune and view what I had come to see, but at that exact moment, fate had other plans in store for me. Rain began to hit the side of my car and within no more than a minute, my view through the door window ceased to exist. The wind was coming from the north with slight variations of direction. I guessed the speed at around 20-25 mph with gusts of 35-40 mph. I sat there, held in check by the deluge driving against the door holding me prisoner and was frustrated that my journey may be in vain. I thought about sucking it up and braving the tempest, but only for a second or two, realizing it was a “fool’s errand.” The wind velocity continued to increase as I sat there waiting for the weather to abate. After all, I had driven this far, the storm was upon me sooner than was predicted (a normal occurrence), so maybe it would pass quickly and allow me to begin my survey. Unfortunately, the likelihood of this happening waned with each passing minute as the winds intensified and the rain began to pummel my car like water from a fire hose. It was time to pull anchor and run with the wind because I decided “Discretion is the better part of valor”, (W. Shakespeare, Falstaff, Henry the fourth), so I started the engine and began to turn around. The windshield wipers did little to disburse the intense rain as it beat against the glass. My forward and left-side vision was greatly impaired as I began the task of turning my car 180 degrees to head back to the air base and made my way back to the highway, if ever so slowly. I was now caught in the grip of a brutal storm as I headed toward Chatham with the winds and rain buffeting the rear my car even though I was traveling with the wind. I probably should have pulled off the highway and waited for the storm to abate, or at least lessen to some degree, but youth and brave ignorance saw me through and I eventually made my way back to the safety of my barracks room. As I entered through the air base gate, the rain and wind had diminished significantly, though the cloud cover was still dark and heavy and I figured I must be in the eye of the storm. Time would prove me right. Many days would pass before I continued my pursuit of the Whidah.                                                          *** The first and most important issue was to locate the supposedly still existing old life-saving station foundation according to the narratives gleaned from the library sources and second, find the site of the Marconi Station. Shall I continue???[/QUOTE]

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