Geophysical surveys helped them examine differences beneath the ground without unnecessarily disturbing the buried structure.
The results indicated an elongated anomaly extending from the visible cliff opening into the hillside.
Its approximate dimensions were consistent with a substantial wooden vessel or similarly sized structure.
The researchers remained cautious.
They didn't announce that the ship had been identified.
But the evidence grew stronger.
They found regular spacing consistent with heavy framing.
A broad curved outline.
And metal features associated with the buried timbers.
The historian compared the measurements with surviving descriptions of The Bellwether.
The similarities were encouraging.
Still, she explained to the boy that many nineteenth-century wooden ships shared similar construction features.
They needed diagnostic artifacts.
A nameplate.
An identifiable fitting.
A builder's mark.
Or records linking the structure to a specific vessel.
The boy listened carefully.
He had begun keeping a detailed notebook of the investigation.
Every visit.
Every observation.
Every question he wanted to ask.
He didn't attempt to enter restricted areas.
He understood why the adults had established barriers.
Instead, he worked with photographs, maps, and the grandfather's notes.
The historian began showing him how to compare historical and modern maps.
She explained why coastlines shifted.
How old aerial photographs could reveal filled channels.
And why archaeological interpretations changed as new evidence appeared.
One afternoon, the boy asked her whether she was disappointed that they hadn't found treasure.
She laughed.
“Not at all.”
He looked surprised.
“Really?”
She shook her head.
“Treasure is a strange word.”
The boy frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She pointed toward the historical chart.
“Suppose we find a box of gold coins.”
The boy smiled.
“That would be pretty good.”
The historian laughed.
“Yes.”
Then she pointed toward the old inlet.
“But suppose we discover why this land floods, how people lived here, and what happened to a ship whose crew was thought lost.”
The boy considered that.
She continued.
“Which discovery helps us understand more?”
The child looked toward the map.
Then answered quietly.
“The second one.”
The historian nodded.
“Exactly.”
The boy smiled.
His grandfather would've liked her.
The first truly identifiable artifact appeared six weeks after the anchor was discovered.
A controlled investigation of a safely accessible section near the exposed entrance revealed a heavy brass fitting associated with the wooden structure.
It was corroded and covered with soil.
But the researchers could make out part of an engraved word.