X marks the spot
I’m 7 years old, on holiday in Newquay, Cornwall. We’re leaning on a wall looking out over one of the lovely sandy beaches as the warm, golden sun sets over the Atlantic. Tummy full of sausage, egg, and chips, I’m a happy girl.
Something catches my eye, bobbing about on the water below. It’s a bottle… and it looks like it has a rolled-up piece of paper in it! My twin sister and I scramble down the steps as fast as our little legs will carry us, closely followed by my Mum and Dad.
We soon establish that it’s a map – of this very beach – with footprints and an ‘X’ to mark the spot in a cave just a short distance from where we are. We go exploring and find a couple of old broken spades and a stick to dig with.
Oh my goodness… what’s that?! We continue digging and scooping in a frenzy of flying sand and there it is: a treasure chest. And it’s heavy.
We prise it open to find it’s full to the brim with coins and colourful jewellery, which to a 7-year-old looks like the crown jewels! Scooping around in the silvery coins, I realise that this could belong to someone. My Mum and Dad always taught me that it’s honest to hand money in to a police station if you find it, so we proceed up to the town to make a call.
Standing at a public call box in the flashing lights and sounds of an amusement arcade, I can hardly breathe, I’m so excited. Very soon, my Dad establishes that it was an old pirate who had hidden it, and since died, so it’s ours to keep. My sister and I jump up and down with joy, and we are ecstatic to have this unexpected delight to treasure forever!
Of course, the map was put there by my Dad, and the call was pretend so they could keep the magic alive for us. And what magic it was, to believe this exotic story of pirates and loot! I imagine there was a mix of horror and pride when I suggested contacting the police :-)
I have since watched this unfold once again when my Dad did it for my son David when he was little, and I saw the awe and wonder in his eyes as he discovered and dug up the pirate treasure. My Dad even used the same treasure chest, pictured in this post.
Needless to say, there was a note this time saying that anyone who found it, after a certain period of time had passed, could keep it!
Sitting here typing, I have a big lump in my throat and a happy grin on my face connecting with this happy story again, feeling really present with the excitement and gratitude of a very special gesture. And I am going to thank my Dad again when I speak to him this weekend :-)
What are your special memories which you will treasure forever? What do these mean to you?