I came down from the bluff and got in my Jeep. Using my new map, I made my way to the west side of Mattituck Inlet. And there it was-no, not Captain Kidd's Trees, but a sign that said 'Captain Kidd Estates.' Apparently some subdivider had a marketing dream. I drove into Captain Kidd Estates, a small collection of 1960s ranches and Cape Cods. A kid-no pun intended-was riding by on his bicycle, and I stopped and asked him, 'Do you know where Captain Kidd's Trees are?'
The boy, about twelve, didn't reply.
I said, 'There's supposed to be a place near the inlet where there are a bunch of trees called Captain Kidd's Trees.'
He looked at me, looked at my four-wheel drive, and I guess I struck him as an Indiana Jones type, because he asked me, 'You gonna look for the treasure?'
'Oh… no, I just want to take a picture of the trees.'
'He buried his treasure chest under one of those trees.'
It seemed like everyone but me was hip to this. That's what happens when you don't pay attention. I said to the lad, 'Where are the trees?'
'My friends and me dug a big hole once, before the cops chased us away. The trees are in a park, so you can't dig there.'
'I just want to take a few pictures.'
'If you wanna dig, I'll watch for the cops.'
'Okay. Lead on.'
I followed the boy on his bike to a winding lane that led downhill to the Sound and ended at a beach park where a few young mothers sat with toddlers in strollers. To the right was the Mattituck Inlet and a marina farther up the inlet. I pulled off to the side and got out. I didn't see any large oaks, only a field of brush and scrub trees across the lane. The field was bordered by the beach on the north and by the inlet on the east. Across the field, to the west, I could see a bluff descending to the water. On the south from where I'd come was a rise of land which were the Captain Kidd Estates.
The boy asked me, 'Where's your shovel?'
'I'm just taking pictures.'
'Where's your camera?'
'What's your name?'
'Billy. What's yours?'
'Johnny. Is this the right place?'
'Sure. 'Where are Captain Kidd's Trees?'
'There. In the park.'
He pointed to the big field. It was apparently an undeveloped piece of parkland, part of the beach park, more a nature preserve than what my Manhattan mind thought of as a park. Still, I saw no towering oaks. I said to him, 'I don't see the trees.'
'There.' He pointed out to me all the scrub oak, wild cherry, and other assorted trees, none taller than twenty feet high. He said, 'See that big one there? That's where me and Jerry dug. We're gonna go back some night.'
'Good idea. Let's take a look.'
Billy dropped his bike in the grass, and my new partner and I walked onto the field. The grass was high, but the bushes were widely spaced and the walking was easy. Obviously, Billy hadn't paid attention in earth science class or he'd have known that these few trees weren't three and four hundred years old. In fact, I really hadn't expected to see hundred-foot-high oaks with skulls and crossbones carved in them.
Billy said, 'Do you have a shovel in your car?'
'No, I'm just scoping it out for now. Tomorrow we're coming back with bulldozers.'
'Yeah? If you find the treasure, you have to share.'
In my best pirate accent, I said, 'If I find the treasure, me lad, I'll cut the throats of all who ask for their share.'
Billy grabbed his throat with two hands and made gurgling sounds.
I kept walking, kicking at the sandy soil, until finally I found what I was looking for-a huge tree stump half rotted, covered with soil and vegetation. I said to Billy, 'Did you ever see any more stumps like this?'
'Oh, yeah. They're like all over.'
I looked around, picturing primeval oaks that once stood here in colonial times on this flat piece of land beside this big inlet in the Sound. This was a natural haven for ships and men, and I could picture a three-master coming into the Sound and anchoring offshore. A few men take a dinghy into the inlet and land about where my vehicle was parked on the lane. They moor the dinghy to a tree and wade ashore. They're carrying something-a chest- just as Tom and Judy carried a chest ashore. The seamen-William Kidd and a few others-enter the oak forest, pick a tree, dig a hole, bury the treasure, then somehow mark the tree and leave, intending to return someday. Of course, they never do. That's why there are so many legends of buried treasure.
Billy said, 'That's the tree where me and Jerry dug. Want to see?'
'Sure.'
We walked over to a gnarled windblown wild cherry, about fifteen feet high. Billy pointed to the base of the tree where a shallow hole was half filled with sand. He said, 'There.'
'Why not the other side of the tree? Why not a few feet away from the tree?'
'I don't know… we guessed. Hey, do you have a map? A treasure map?
'I do. But if I show it to you, I have to make you walk the plank.'
'Aaahhh!' He did a passable imitation of going off the end of eternity's diving board.
I started back toward the car, Buddy Billy at my side. I asked him, 'How come you're not in school today?'
'Today is Rosh Hashanah.'
'You Jewish?'
'No, but my friend Danny is.'
'Where's Danny?'
'He went to school.'
This kid had lawyer potential.
We got back to my vehicle, and I found a fiver in my wallet. 'Okay, Billy, thanks for your help.'
He took the bill and said, 'Hey, thanks! You need more help?'
'No, I have to go back and report to the White House.'
'The White House?'
I picked up his bicycle and gave it to him. I got in my Jeep and started it up. I said to him, 'That tree where you were digging isn't old enough to have been there in Captain Kidd's day.'
'Yeah?'
'Captain Kidd was three hundred years ago.'
'Wow.'
'You know all those old rotten stumps in the ground? Those were big trees when Captain Kidd came ashore here. Try digging around one of those.'
'Hey, thanks!'
'If you find the treasure, I'll be back for my share.'
'Okay. But my friend Jerry might try to cut your throat. I wouldn't, 'cause you told us where the treasure is.'
'Jerry might cut
'Aaaaarrrghh!'
And off I went.
Next stop, a gift for Emma. On my way, I put more of the mental puzzle together.
Indeed, there may have been more than one treasure buried, but the one the Gordons were looking for, and may well have found, was buried on Plum Island. I was reasonably certain of that.
And Plum Island was government land, and anything taken from the ground there belonged to the government, specifically, the Department of the Interior.
