Author: J. Armstrong, Word Count: 666
Featured in Spooky Archaeological Tales: Live Stream – BonFire Night 2022
The sun set as a line of pelicans skimmed the water. The light on Ocracoke
Island glimmered in the distance and the eery soda bottle whistle of a buoy could
be heard as gentle waves rippled. Ed and I borrowed a comfortable, somewhat
dated boat for spring break. We were archaeology students and decided to conduct
an informal underwater survey of Pamlico Sound and Teach’s Hole. There, Lt.
Maynard’s forces overcame Blackbeard on November 22, 1718. We really wanted
to find evidence of the engagement and relics from Blackbeard’s sloop. Maynard
took Blackbeard’s head back to Virginia as evidence of his success. Local folklore
says that Blackbeard’s decapitated body swam around Maynard’s sloop three times
shaking its fist before sinking into the bloody waters.
We turned to our bunks in the small cabin to get a good night’s rest before
diving the next day. Our sleep was sound except for a moment of waking when
something bumped against the hull. The next morning revealed blue sky and
water. We cooked a breakfast of Spam and eggs as we gazed about. Soon we
donned our wetsuits and swam back and forth along a grid, trailing bubbles from
our scuba gear. After an uneventful morning we ate lunch and discussed how we
might make the tedium more exciting. Rummaging around in our gear, we found a
small metal detector.
After dozing for an hour, we pulled on our wetsuits and agreed that we
would trade turns with the metal detector. The tedium continued until
midafternoon when Ed thought he heard a signal from the detector. He called me
over and began fanning the ooze with his hand while exposing small pieces of
metal. We burst through the surface of the water whooping and hollering. A quick
search on the internet identified the metal fragments as pieces of partridge and
swan shot like those fired by Blackbeard in the battle with Maynard. We
celebrated for the rest of the day and fell into our bunks that night.
I awoke without knowing why. I looked over at Ed who was snoring away,
shrugged my shoulders, and rolled over. As I was dozing off, I dreamed that I
heard footsteps on the deck, but they didn’t seem real as I drifted into a sea of
galleys and chests of treasure. I rose before Ed the next morning and went topside.
I yawned and found myself standing in a small puddle of water. There were
several small puddles of water. They vaguely reminded me of bootsteps across the
deck. By the time Ed rose, the puddles had completely evaporated.
We dined and resumed our survey of the muddy bottom. The day was
uneventful until we came upon a mound of ballast stones. At that same moment,
there was a surge of current and we tumbled end over end. When we made our
way back to the mound, we saw a ray of light glistening on a round stoppered
bottle. We rose to the surface. Our find was a dark brownish-green onion bottle
from the eighteenth century. We removed the stopper and found the darkest rum
we had ever seen.
We fell into bed and slept soundly until rough seas came up and lightning
laced the sky. We scrambled to secure the cabin hatch but froze with mouths
agape. On the deck stood a monstrous darkness swigging from our rum bottle. We
ran up the gangway to tackle this intruder. Unfortunately, as the lightning flashed,
we saw that it had no head, only an unholy aura of sparks and wisps of brimstone.
It swung with the rum bottle. Ed fell over the gunwales as the bottle caught me in
the temple.
When I awoke, I asked Ed what had happened. He replied with the same
account I have just given. We finally agreed that if I didn’t tell anyone, neither
would he. This is the first time either one of us has revealed these events. After
all, it’s just a story. Isn’t it?
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