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While I have no hesitation in wishing all real divers, that is, all readers of Beachcomber, the Happiest Diving New Year, I am also a little upset that I should bring the Old Year to an end by causing serious controversy.
This has resulted in my third personal assistant handing in her notice as the letters, faxes, emails, and phone calls from disgruntled archaeologists swamped Beachcomber's eyrie on the seventh floor of Eaton Towers. The poor girl nearly had a nervous breakdown.
I let her go with a heavy heart. She is a beautiful child and had the makings of a SuperPA, but when I told her I could not guarantee that such a download would never reoccur, she swept out.
You will recall that in my final report to you last year I gave you the definitive proof that all archaeologists are treasure-hunters.
I told you the true story of Roy Davis, Britain's first real underwater archaeologist who, addressing an audience of would-be archaeologists at a symposium at Fort Bovi-sand, managed to drop a bag of gold coins apparently recovered from a wreck.
At the end of his talk, "All Archaeologists are Treasure Hunters", he left the room oblivious to the scramble going on around the dais. At the end of the weekend, only one coin had been handed in. Revealing this, and the fact that the gold coins were fakes, Roy felt entitled to say "quod erat demonstrandum".
Few of those present ever forgave him. Saying "QED" was the last straw, as most of his audience did not understand Latin.
It seems that now they will not forgive Beachcomber for retelling this tale. Judging by their vitriolic onslaught on my column, they had hoped that all had been forgotten.
However, amid the abuse there were many excellent comments from honest archaeologists who confessed that Roy was right and that they found treasure-hunting irresistible.
One faxed from France to ask me to meet him at Bovisand, where he would reveal all. It seemed a long way to go but I arranged for my best Plymouth Leak to keep the appointment for me. I hope to be able to give you his report later in this column.
Do you know a diver called Lindsay? If you do, could you tell her that Beachcomber is worried about her?
You see, Beachcomber fears that she may have lost her memory. Or that something unexpected has happened to her.
I have been contacted by the chairman of the medics' dive club at Imperial College, London, which calls itself ICSM Sub-Aqua.
Douglas Matthews, that's the chairman's name, is also much concerned about Lind-say, and he too would very much like to hear from her.
In fact, Douglas has been waiting to hear from her since 18 July last year. That is when she promised to return five Apeks regs and five Oceanic Baja BCs that she borrowed from ICSM Sub-Aqua for a weekend's diving by her PADI company Subculture, of All Saints Road, London W11.
In exchange for the loan, she promised a contribution to the medics' club funds.
So you see why all the good-hearted divers of Imperial College are worried about Lindsay Fricker. They've tried every way they can think of to find her, and do hope that any PADI divers who know her will ask her to reassure us that she's well and not lost her memory or anything nasty.
If you know where she is, perhaps you'd let Beachcomber know.
Otherwise, I will have to set my worldwide team of Leaks to track her down and make sure she is keeping the college's equipment safe for it.
Back to Bovisand. Just in time for this edition, my best Plymouth Leak has sent me details of his encounter at Fort Bovisand with the man who faxed from France to arrange a meeting over the "All Archaeologists Are Treasure Hunters" affair.
"A lonely white-haired figure stood among the ruins of the fort," says my Leak. "We exchanged the agreed password and shook hands. It was only at this hand-to-hand close encounter that I realised who I was talking to.
"It was none other than Commander Alan Bax, RN Retd, underwater archaeologist, veteran diver and most important of all, director for many years of Fort Bovisand."
My Leak's voice broke with emotion as he described this contact with the man whom many call the Cousteau of Britain. He is now living in France, but is still much involved in the professional diving world.
His reason for contacting Beachcomber was, he said, to back up the late Roy Davis's denunciation of underwater archaeologists as treasure-hunters.
Bax told my Leak that he had grown to have similar beliefs to Davis. He recalled his long partnership with Jim Gill, teaching archaeology to divers, their formation of the School for Nautical Archaeology in Plymouth, known to early divers as SNAP, and their much longer partnership as the men who turned Fort Bovisand into what was for a long time Britain's best-known diving centre.
Bax and Gill were a team and dived together on one of the earliest wreck discoveries in the Shetlands, the Dutch East Indiaman De Liefde, sunk in 1711.
They thrilled Bovisand audiences of 1965 with their tales of underwater archaeology among the kelp-carpeted rocks of the Out Skerries, and by displaying heaps of silver ducatoons from the wreck.
All their finds were disclosed to the local Receiver of Wreck (for there was more than one in those days).
But Alan was far too trusting, and now says bitterly that it is true that many archaeologists are simply treasure-hunters. All his coins are gone. He has not a single one left to keep as a memento of diving the wreck.
Those who have dived the wreck in more recent times, despite it being a protected historic site, should beware if they have a fine silver ducatoon among their ill-gotten gains.
Bax says he is preparing to sue any archaeologist turned treasure-hunter who has a De Liefde coin so that he can, once again, have one of his own.
My Plymouth Leak tells me that he believes Bax means it. I expect he does. So, anyone with a De Liefde ducatoon had best send it to Bax at his home in France.
Tout de suite.
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