My partner, James, and I have known each other almost our whole lives. Our mums were best friends. We don’t come from money, and we don’t have much now. Before Covid-19, James was a merchant mariner, and I trained in early childhood education. As the first lockdown was starting, I had a medical procedure that went wrong. James had to stay at home to help me recover and look after our children. His work wouldn’t support the time off, and he lost his job.
While we were stuck in our house in Queens, New York, James started researching new ways to make money. He’s always wanted to be a treasure hunter, but had thought that involved expensive equipment. When he found out that all magnet fishing needs is a strong magnet on the end of a string, he decided to give it a go.
The first couple of times he just took my son with him. On their third trip, he called me all excited, saying that he’d fished up something amazing. It was a Yamaha motorbike. I was so excited and wanted to be part of the action next time. I set up a YouTube channel called Let’s Get Magnetic, to record our adventures and finds.
We were hooked, if you’ll forgive the pun. It’s been just over a year now, and we’ve found all sorts: a second world war grenade, jewellery, knives and guns. We’ve learned so much. When we found $200 in a phone case in Central Park lake, we learned that if a local bank won’t take damaged notes, there is a Treasury Department office in Washington DC that will take it and issue you a cheque for the value of what you hand in.
One day, we decided to head to Corona Park, near where we live. James had a good feeling about finding something there. About 45 minutes in, James yelled out: “Babe, we got a safe!” We’d had safes before, but there was never anything inside, so I wasn’t expecting much.
As he lifted it into the air, I could see a hole in the back, and then something inside. “I think that’s a stack of bills!” James said. I didn’t believe him until he pulled out something rectangular wrapped in a bag, covered in black sludge. He peeled it apart to show all of these $100 bills. He looked inside again and found a second bag. I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Even in our shock, we knew we had to call the cops. Friends have since said we should have just taken the money and run, but it wouldn’t have felt right. This was thousands. Someone could have had their life ruined, and the whole thing felt scary.
The police said there was no evidence we had committed a crime, and no way to identify the owner. They said we could keep it – the money was ours. I was shaking in utter disbelief. We were excited, but still convinced the money would be taken away. Things like this don’t happen in real life, especially to us.
Back home, the money started to petrify. As it dried off inside the bag, it started to get stiff; it looked like the notes were becoming one solid block. Plus, the smell was nauseating, like faeces; if we opened the bag for even a second, the smell would linger in the air. We wanted to convert it as soon as possible, so three days later we booked a Megabus and hand-delivered it to the bureau in DC.
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We still have no idea how much was there, but based on our research, there can be anywhere from $25,000-$50,000 in each stack, and we found two. The bureau will eventually issue us a cheque, but the wait could be anywhere between six months and two and a half years.
It’s like winning the lottery, but we don’t know how much we’ve won or when we’ll get it. We’re thinking about what we would do with the money. We really need to replace our mobile phones, but can’t help discussing grander plans.
I’d love to move us out of New York and find somewhere with room for chickens and goats, and for the dog to run around. I’ve always dreamed of moving somewhere with less concrete, but that seemed impossible. We never win anything, and we’ve had some really bad luck lately. So whatever comes and whenever it comes, it will be a blessing.
As told to Grace Holliday
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