Tug and the Holy Grail

Just before I reached the reef I glanced down. There was a depression in the sand, perhaps thirty feet below. Maria still had some distance to cover, so I swam down to take a look. To my surprise, I discovered another wreck. It was clearly wooden and it must have been there for a long time. There was nothing left of the actual ship. But there was what looked like a capstan and some ballast stones. There were also the brass spikes that once held the ship together. They were scattered everywhere.

I fanned the sand to see what else might be around the wreck and it revealed nothing. I picked up a ballast stone, just to feel something that had been last touched by human hands centuries ago, and there was a flash of metal. I fanned the sand and uncovered the lid of a small copper box. It was a two-foot, by three-foot, rectangle and had been sealed along its lid by lead solder.

Wreck divers are supposed to leave anything they find where they find it. But, Seriously??!!! This was a genuine ancient artifact and it was too intriguing to just let it sit. I anchored a marker buoy and swam back in Maria's direction.

She gestured quizzically and I pointed up. As soon as we got out of the water I said with excitement in my voice, "There's something down there."

She said concerned, "You aren't supposed to remove things. We could go to jail for that."

I said, "Nobody will ever know. It was buried under the ship's ballast. I just want to examine it. If there is anything inside that's worthwhile I'll turn the thing over to the authorities."

She continued to look unhappy. I moved the skiff over to the buoy and dropped a heavier line with a net. I went back in the water, carefully dug up the chest and moved it into the net. I swam back up, dropped the rebreather and winched the chest up onto the boat. I DID keep the RIB between the shore and my activities. The chest was surprisingly light, so it probably didn't contain any gold doubloons.

I placed it on the deck of the skiff and started the engine. I wanted to get back to the tug as fast as I could. So, I had the wick turned up as we flew along the eastern shore of the main Island; then, around St. David's to our anchorage at St. George's.

I have almost 300 horsepower on the back of the skiff. So, it took less time to return home than it would have if I had driven. Once we got the skiff on its davits I took the box down to my little workroom, which is below-decks next to the diesels.

Maria was following in my footsteps, trailed by Bastet. That animal was stalking along like Cleopatra among her minions.

The chest was so captivating that Maria had lost any prior hang-ups. It was the kind of mottled blue-green that copper turns when it oxidizes. The seal was brazed and the box still had its integrity. It had been buried in the sand resting under a considerable weight of stones. So, it would be safe to assume that the contents had not been touched.

I inspected the seal carefully prior to lighting up my little plasma torch. I wanted to make a quick cut through the brazing without heating the metal of the box. That took time and a lot of patience; since the aim was to be as non-destructive as possible.

I finished the last cut and let the area cool down for a minute. Then I carefully lifted the lid using a small portable maintenance hoist. There was the sound of a vacuum unsealing.

I was, puzzled, "That was an odd phenomenon?" It wasn't until the machine age that vacuums could be created and this box pre-existed that capability by hundreds of years.

The box was also strange. It had normal copper sheeting on the outside and I had assumed that it would be wooden inside. But instead, it looked like the box was made from a light alloy like aluminum, or titanium and then sheeted with copper to blend with the technology of the time.

However, aluminum couldn't be refined into any practical use until the 19th Century; and titanium much later than that. Since titanium is non-corrosive, the makers must have wanted to protect whatever was inside from the elements.

A single ancient leather book, or more appropriately ledger, was inside the box. I put on a pair of surgical gloves, very gingerly removed the book from the box and laid the thing out on the workspace bench. We both stood there gazing with awe. Even Bastet seemed mildly impressed.

I was certain that the thing would have to be conserved before we could read it. But, the leather cover was the finest grade of cowhide and it seemed brand new. There was no dirt or any other contaminant. In fact, the book looked pristine. That wasn't hard to accept. The fact that it was not exposed to the environment, thanks to the vacuum, would preserve it.

I put the book under the illuminated magnifier, which I keep on the workbench for detailed work. The instant I turned on the light I could see a large seal embossed in the leather. Maria let out a loud gasp and put her hands over her mouth, staring in abject astonishment. She said, with reverence, "That's the great seal of Atlantis!!! This is something MY people created."

That explained several things. The book was in perfect shape, which would be the case if it had been packed in a vacuum. It also explained why the container itself had managed to survive underwater in such unspoiled condition, since it was pure titanium. More importantly, it explained why the book was easily readable; not by me, of course.

Embossed on the cover was something that looked like cuneiform mingled with Egyptian hieroglyphics. It had Sumerian type wedges and lines. But it also had glyphs like you see in Olmec.

Sumeria is in modern Iraq and the Olmecs lived in Mexico. So, it didn't take a genius to figure out who the Sumerians, Egyptians and Olmecs picked up writing from. Atlantis has been underwater for thirteen millennia. But its diaspora is everywhere in human history.

Maria said with wonder in her voice, "This is a journal of one of our people." Clearly, she could read what was written.

I said, "Is this what Atlantean writing looks like?"

She said, "Yes, this is High Atlantean script."

I said, "What does it say?"

She said, "It says that this is the Journal of Bertrand de Saint-Clare, Grand Master of the Knights Templar."

Wow!!! That was interesting. It implied that one of the Knights Templar was Atlantean; maybe ALL of them were!!! It would help explain the odd history of that order.

After the First Crusade, the Templars took up residence on the Temple Mount. The, site was reputedly where Solomon's Temple was located; hence the name. Then, oddly, they spent the next nine years excavating under their headquarters.

Eventually they "found" something. Scholars speculate that they might have dug up the "Sangreal," better known as the "Holy Grail." Given its mystical powers, the Grail would likely be Atlantean; if it existed at all.

But the Temple supposedly housed one other legendary artifact; The Ark of the Covenant. The Ark is undoubtedly real and based on the miracles described in Exodus it is no doubt Atlantean. That would explain phenomena, like the rain of frogs, the parting of the Red Sea and the "tumbling down" of the walls of Jericho. Maybe, Moses himself was Atlantean?

Whatever they dug-up helped the Templars grow into one of the richest and most politically influential groups in Europe. In fact, they had amassed so much wealth and power, that Pope Clement V decided that something had to be done about them.

The guy who did the dirty work was Philip IV of France. Philip owed the Templars a lot of money. But the purge wasn't about money. Scholars theorize that Philip was after the Grail; and the church backed him on his play, to wipe out evidence of its existence.

So, on Friday, October 13, 1307; yes, THAT Friday the 13th, the armies of France attacked the Templars. I was hoping that Bertrand's Journal would clarify what happened after that.

Maria said, in an uncharacteristically humble tone of voice, "This book must be very important to my people. We communicate telepathically, or by devices that you would call computers. We haven't kept paper records in 10,000 years."

Well, that sort-of made sense. The Atlanteans fled to New Atlantis 13,000 years ago; they had an advanced technology then. One can only imagine how they communicate now. It was certainly NOT by paper records.

She said, "I must find out what Bertrand was trying to tell us." By "us" I understood her to mean the Atlanteans.

I said, "I'm as curious as you are. But if you haven't noticed, I don't speak Atlantean."

She gave me one of her inscrutable cat glances and said, "Then, let me read this and I will tell you what it says." With that, she scooped up the book and disappeared out of the engine room hatch.

I found her curled up on the big sectional couch. She had a blanket over her legs a pillow propped under that gorgeous body and her cat sitting cuddled between her and the book. Maria looked fascinated, completely absorbed in the narrative.

Bastet was just sitting there glaring contemptuously at me. It was like the varmint was basking in the glow of Maria's obvious excitement. I went to bed with the reading light still glowing in the lounge.

~

I woke in the morning to find Maria asleep on the couch with Bastet curled up on her delectable chest and the light still on. She was sleeping with the closed book in her hand. I tiptoed around getting coffee. Then I went up on the pilot house deck. We have an open air lounge up there, for when we are docked.

My love finally appeared on deck, I was watching the island of Bermuda wake up. She was dressed in a long sweater and, from the smooth gleaming thighs that were protruding out the bottom, nothing else. She was carrying her morning coffee. Bastet was stalking imperiously along behind her.

She sat and stared at the world for a couple of minutes. It was like she was trying to formulate what she was going to say. She finally said, "I read the whole journal last night." I looked at her, patiently waiting for her to continue. She added, "The story is almost too incredible to believe."

My stomach growled. I said, "Why don't you tell me the condensed version while I rustle us up some breakfast." She had done all the work. I wanted her to relax before she told me the story. So, I cooked a perfect Prawn Masala omelet.

I have always been good at cooking. It is a very un-nerdlike skill; most of us exist on Skittles and Mountain Dew. But, I have several inexplicable characteristics, which are generally frowned on in hackish culture. That was mystifying; until I learned about my real heritage.

Maria had changed into her usual tasteful, but deliciously revealing, sleeveless top and shorts. It's an outfit that she wears when she is being casual. Bastet was sitting expectantly at her feet. Maria would occasionally drop a prawn. Bastet would grab it and give me a low guttural warning growl and drag her captive off to be devoured in private.

Maria's face is an absolute work of art. You just KNOW that the term beauty was invented to describe her. She has that glorious mane of hair over an intelligent brow; huge cat-like golden eyes a long narrow exotic nose and the widest, fullest and most kissable mouth. All that glory rests over a dimpled chin.

Her features are so precisely sized and arranged that they evoke an innate response in me. I could just look at her all day, like a painting in the Louvre.

Right now, she was looking like she was about to burst from all the things she had to tell me. I said by way of introduction, "So, do you want to sit on the couch over there and you can tell me the story."

She looked at me with those enigmatic cat eyes and said, "It will take a while. So, let's get comfortable. You won't believe what I have to tell you."

She rose and swayed over to the roomy outdoor couch on the pilot house deck. I sat next to her and put my arm around her smooth shoulders. Then she proceeded to tell me the fascinating tale of the treasure of the Knights Templar.

~

The Templars had their own spies in Philip's court. So, the evening before the raid, they loaded their vast wealth and holy relics onto wagons. Those wagons wound their way out of Paris, 250 miles to the Templar naval base at La Rochelle.

Eighteen large ships were waiting there. The wealth of the order was loaded on those ships and the fleet simply disappeared into history. Bertrand de Clare's journal told us what happened next.

Maria snuggled herself further into me and said, "Bertrand was born in 1340, 33 years after the Templar's fatal day. His rise to Grand Master was engineered by his cousin and patron Henry Sinclair of Rosslyn, Earl of Orkney."

I saw the Da Vinci Code I knew that name. I walked over to the laptop and googled it. I learned that Henry Sinclair was a player in many of the conspiracy theories that surround the Templars; and Rosslyn is purported to be one of the places where the Templar treasure was located.

Bertrand's journal explained how Sinclair and the treasure came to be linked. The Templar's knew their treasure was too valuable to store anywhere in the known world. So, the eighteen ships headed west.

The route across the Atlantic was pioneered by the Carthaginians. The Romans learned about it after they conquered that nation. That's why Roman artifacts are found all over the New World.

Still, it's a one-way journey. Based on Bertrand, the Templars followed the Eastern Boundary Current southward to the Canary Islands; off the coast of Africa. That led them to the North Equatorial Current and the westerly trades. Those winds and the very strong westbound current, inevitably sweep all ships toward North America.

The Templar fleet joined the Gulf Stream off the Windward Islands. They followed it up the coast to the St. Lawrence inlet where the Gulf Stream intersects the Labrador Current, making it difficult to travel any further north.

Knowing that they would be swept back to Europe, the Templar ships turned into the St. Lawrence and landed in the Quebec region of Saguenay. The Templars likely didn't stay long enough to build permanent lodging. But they were witnessed by the local natives. Then, they continued along the North Atlantic current back towards Europe; specifically, Scotland.

Scotland was one of the few places that didn't recognize the authority of the Pope. So, the Templars found refuge among the Saint-Clairs of Rosslyn. Three generations passed. Meanwhile the Scottish St-Clairs Anglicized their name to Sinclair. Bertrand kept the family name to preserve the connection with Henri, the first Grand Master of the order.

Bertrand was of the Atlantean noble line; as was Henri and all the Grand Masters, including De Molay. Bertrand's cousin, Henry Sinclair, was a major force in middle-ages politics. But, he wasn't hereditary Atlantean nobility. So, in return for future considerations, Henry used his influence to promote his cousin Bertrand to the position of Grand Master.

As a quid-pro-quo, Bertrand accompanied Sinclair's fleet on their voyage west. His role was to show Henry where the Templar treasure was hidden. That secret was passed from one Grand Master to the next as part of the Templar's order of succession. So Bertrand was the only man on earth who knew

Bertrand's journal said that, "We took our departure with a fayre wind and sailed 6-days westward; but the winds afterward shifted to the southwest, and the sea became rough, we sailed 4 days with the wind aft and by the grace of God, we finally sighted land."

After a brief stop in what seems to have been Iceland, they continued west. According to Bertrand, "As the sea ran high and we did not know what country it was, we were sore afrayd. But, by God's blessing the wind lulled, and there came on a great calm."

Finally, On June 2, 1398, the explorers arrived at a, "Fertile land, myld and pleasant beyond describing." Some of the crew went ashore and, "After eight days, the soldiers returned, and brought word that, there was a large river, and a very good and safe harbor, the mouth of which is marked by an Oak Island."

Sinclair stayed there while his workers dug up the Templar treasure. Henry didn't intend to take it back to Europe. He only wanted to ensure that its artifacts were, "Forever kept out of the hands of men." Henry was referring to non-Atlanteans; the Grail and the Ark allowed the holder to wield too much power."

Bertrand provided a detailed geographic account, including compass readings. I raced over to Google Maps. Based on Bertrand's description; Sinclair and his men had indeed, landed at the mouth of what is now called the Saguenay River.

Strangely enough, there was a tidbit further down the page that confirmed this. The Micmac tribe in that area have a legend about a kingdom of blond haired white men who had landed in a place they called Saguenay. These white men bore valuable jewels and possessed great material wealth.

Nonetheless, Henry was astute. He knew that people would continue to pursue the Templar wealth. So, he arranged to move it to a new place; one where nobody could EVER find it. If you look at a map you can see that the mouth of the Saguenay is the first real significant geographic feature after the St. Laurence starts to narrow. Henry was looking for a hiding place that was a lot more remote; just in case later explorers visited the Saguenay.

That proved to be a very prescient move. Jacques Cartier landed there in 1535, and was told about the treasure by the Iroquois Chief Donnacona. Cartier even brought Donnacona back to France to tell the King. But of course, nothing was ever discovered because the treasure wasn't there anymore.

Sinclair, sailed out of the mouth of the St. Lawrence, around The Gaspe and down the coast of what is now New Brunswick. It passed around Cap Pele and into the Northumberland Strait. He planned to return to Scotland once the treasure was re-hidden. So, he landed in the first sheltered cove, once he saw open ocean to their northeast.

Sinclair hid the bulk of the treasure there, including all the artifacts. The engineering skills to do so, were known to the Templars, and of course developed thousands of years previously in Atlantis.

Sinclair's time in Nova Scotia was almost exactly one year. He placed the Templar treasure, including both the Sangreal and the Ark of the Covenant, in a booby-trapped vault. These were pure Atlantean relics and considered too powerful to be used by anybody but Atlanteans.

But, Henry was very shrewd. So, he had his workers dig another shaft. The second shaft was more noticeable and it was marked with mysterious clues. This pit was a decoy. It was designed to lure any potential treasure hunters away from where the important stuff was buried. Sinclair even seeded it with some of the gold, just as bait. That shaft later became known as the "Oak Island" mystery, and it has been attracting treasure seekers since 1795.

Bertrand's journal, with its record of the treasure and the expedition to recover it, ends there. The last entry was made by one of his successors in 1437. It noted that the journal preserved information that was known to be true. The journal was then vacuum sealed for posterity.

The container itself was Atlantean in origin. So, other Atlanteans were evidently invested in preserving it. It was locked in a crypt at Rosslyn. The reason why the container was placed on a ship is unknown. Perhaps the people on that ship planned to use the journal to find the treasure. Maybe they were ALSO Atlantean.

Be that as it may; the ship and its container was lost on the barrier reefs off the Island of Bermuda. There were so many shipwrecks on the treacherous Bermuda reefs that the loss of one ship was never noted.