The metal detector lay against the garage door gathering dust. A Christmas present that had scarcely been used. I felt guilt at my negligence but it did not outweigh my laziness when it came to doing the requisite research and finding more experienced metal detectorists who could mentor me. Outside of a few exploratory scans which brought up (how ironically, if you read my last blog) an old Diet Pepsi can and a fork, I was left frustrated. The detector seemed destined for a very early retirement.
And then I met Peter. Peter is not his real name but he’s someone I met in one of my weekly walking groups. The group is what I call my POM (peace of mind) group. A quiet but friendly fella, I took a liking to him instantly. He shared a love of walking and there was a tacit acknowledgement of underlying stresses and anxieties on both our parts that did not need discussing.
I listened to the things he did want to talk about: running, walking, ladies, rock music and metal detecting. Peter was/is a metal detectorist and a proficient one at that. As we wandered down the remnants of a railway route, now populated by cyclists, runners and fellow walkers, he impressed me with his historical appreciation for the coins and artefacts he had unearthed. Delving into the earth had brought him a multitude of coins spanning many ages and empires. He learned the names of those different heads emblazoned on the coins, establishing their value and piecing together the fabric of history. Some of the pieces would be sold to pay for holidays or Christmas presents for the family whilst others would find their way into his private collection but the joy in finding them remained undiminished.
I asked him about his most lucrative find and with a glint in his eye he told me about a trove of Viking coins he found in a farmer’s field in North Yorkshire. He and two friends had asked permission from the farmer to detect over his freshly ploughed fields (optimum detecting time as objects are hauled upwards through the topsoil.) After about 45 mins, a less experienced member of the group signaled a find near a wall. Peter soon took over the excavating to find not one but two troves in close proximity. Valued at £18k, they were taken away by a museum and such are the procedures involved that it was nearly a year before Peter would receive his £3k share of the find.
‘Not bad for a day’s work,’ he recounts with the glint returning to the eyes. Indeed metal detecting had provided him with part of his income over the years yet he was adamant that some things would remain with him, that he would build his collection rather than diminish it.
Hearing of his passion for detecting, I offered him my metal detector (very similar to the one pictured) since I wasn’t using it and asked him if he’d get any use out of it. He seemed to delighted and I was delighted to see him delighted. I dropped it into him the following week.
A few weeks ago, I met Peter on another walk. After we had finished he pulled me to one side and reached inside his coat pocket. In a money bag, there was a coin and a note. On the note he had written Diocletian 284-305 AD. He would explain that this was a roman emperor who had ruled Britain through that period. It was his head on the coin which he presented to me. Peter had said the first thing he found with the detector I had given him, he was going to give to me. This was the first thing he found.
I marveled at the coin and we discussed the story of its journey. It was likely we were the first people to hold it in nearly two thousand years. To unearth something from the ground is one thing, unearthing its story is quite another but Peter said he’d investigate further.
We are drawn to people with passion and energy. People who are doing things they believe in. Peter’s passion burns brightly and I feel lucky to have been part of his story, however briefly.
