The Race for Riches
Under the sea, treasure hunters and scientists battle for history's bounty
Salvors admit that sins were common in the past but insist that many modern-day operations respect the historical value of wrecks. "In 1950s-type salvage, you'd go out to a wreck, you'd go out with a clamshell [a digging device with two hinged jaws], you'd take what's good, and everything else was dumped overboard," says Steven Morgan, president of Mar-Dive Corp. and a 35-year veteran of the business. "We don't do that anymore. We run projects that are protective of the sites. Today, a salvor is an archaeologist." To obtain state permits for their work, treasure hunters must agree to properly conserve artifacts and leave the wrecks intact. In Florida, for example, companies are required to submit regular archaeological reports, and all "nonvaluable" artifacts--everything not made of precious metals or jewel encrusted--are made available to the state for study. (Florida also receives a 20 percent cut of the treasures.)
Some salvors have learned that a touch of archaeological sensitivity can fatten their bottom line. "Everything we lose to a museum or give to a government is overshadowed by the publicity we get," says Mar-Dive's Morgan, "so that our 5,000 coins that are left are worth 20 times what they would have been. . . . It gives them a pedigree." Reluctant to line the pockets of treasure hunters, many museums spurn artifacts recovered by them. Several, for example, have refused to display the treasures of the Whydah, a famed pirate ship discovered off Wellfleet, Mass., in 1984. "It's no different than an art museum being approached by an art gallery saying, `Won't you lend your name to these paintings, to drive up their value?' " says Delgado. "We don't want to be partners in the marketing or trafficking of archaeological materials."
But the Internet has allowed salvors to move treasures without museum seals of approval. Several firms now eschew auction houses in favor of selling directly to consumers. "You can literally `own' a piece of history," reads a pitch on Mel Fisher's Treasure Hunting Site, named for the late salvor who discovered the Spanish galleon Atocha off the Florida Keys in 1985. Visitors can purchase silver coins for prices ranging between $775 and $3,000--or settle for a toothpick wrought from the Atocha's silver bars for only $45.
Treasure hunters are also learning how to mount their own brand of museum shows. RMS Titanic Inc., the doomed ocean liner's legal salvor, recently licensed the exclusive worldwide rights to exhibit artifacts to SFX Entertainment, a giant event promoter; the deal is worth a minimum of $8.5 million per year. Masters believes there are similar millions to be made from Queen Anne's Revenge, even though it holds few items of real value. "The name of Blackbeard is already pre-sold," he says. "There are few names in history that have as much sex appeal." He dreams of producing a four-part documentary on the pirate chieftain, as well as offering replicas of artifacts found aboard the ship. He is especially keen on selling copies of an antique syringe, which Blackbeard's crew may have used to inject themselves with mercury, the cure du jour for syphilis in 1718.
advertisement
