Vanessa Lucido Found Multiple Treasures Buried in This Area on Oak Island

We have to follow where the clues lead us and the clues come from the research.
>> Well, this Oak Island material that we found in Connecticut really is due to the work of Terry Dvau. [music] He noted this particular individual whose face I think you should be able to see on the screen now.
>> Vanessa Lucido just unearthed a series of discoveries that were never meant to be found in an isolated area of Oak Island. Marked by forgotten stones, buried vaults, and a long-lost map dismissed as legend. The ground has started speaking. The message is louder than ever. Someone hid something here, and they never meant for it to be found.
The final proof of a legendary treasure has been found, and the answers had never been nearer. The map that refused to stay silent. It started with a meeting. Nothing flashy, just another strategy session in the [music] war room. But something about this one felt different. Rick Laena, tense and focused, called in Vanessa Lucido from ROC Equipment. On the surface, it was just about drilling logistics in the money pit. Go 7 ft or 10 ft wide. Drill to 220 ft or deeper. Routine questions.
But what wasn’t routine was the timing.
Because just as this call wrapped, new evidence surfaced. Evidence that would rip open a part of the island nobody had paid attention to in years. Before we delve into this, it’s clear that what they uncovered goes far beyond buried treasure. And this won’t be the only part of the island hiding something no one was meant to find. The team didn’t know it yet, but they were about to be pulled into one of the island’s most cryptic legends.
>> So, we found several letters in 26 boxes of Goodwin collection that had to do with Oak Island.
>> A hidden cache. No. Three hidden caches marked not by chance, but by a map. no one could prove was [music] real. A sketch with markings, X’s, squares, carved stones. It all sounded like a fairy tale until the team put boots on the ground and realized that fairy tales sometimes leave behind hard evidence.
[music] The key, a map rediscovered in the personal papers of William B.
Goodwin, a wealthy historian obsessed with Oak Island since the early 1930s.
His connection to Frederick Blair, the original money pit searcher, was undeniable. Goodwin had claimed to see a treasure map. The real problem, the original was gone. But Goodwin’s version, his notes, diagrams, and theories survived. And that was enough to send Rick, Marty, Doug, and Terry chasing ghosts across lots one and 21.
This wasn’t some blurry image with guesses, and ink blotches. This was a handmarked diagram complete with coordinates, boulders, symbols, and paths. Three boulders were marked. Three separate treasure spots. The first stone had a big carved X on it. The second had a series of square shapes. [music] And the third, that one looked like it had been blasted by lightning. At first, it was all theory. Gary Drayton, metal detector in hand, didn’t expect much.
>> And one of the things here we found in [music] his notes on Oak Island is Goodwin calls it the Blair treasure map.
>> Most maps on Oak Island lead to old junk, tree roots, or disappointment. But something about the first stone made people stop. A wide flat boulder with a carved X, clean, unmistakable, and exactly where the map said it would be.
If this was a coincidence, it was an incredibly precise one. The metal detector didn’t ping. No iron, no copper, no buried chest of coins. But the team wasn’t discouraged. [music] The next step was to locate the second stone, described as having square carvings arranged around an X, and they found it. The shapes were weathered, but they were there. More importantly, they matched the description written by Goodwin nearly a hundred years ago. Two markers, two hits, no treasure yet. Then came the curveball. This map wasn’t just marking boulders. [music] It included distances, directions, landmarks. It described walking 91 ft back inland, parallel to Center Road.
There, it said one would find a kidney-shaped stone, the kind of natural landmark too specific to be a coincidence. If [music] this third marker existed, the team would know they were dealing with something much more than a historian’s imagination. And that’s when the adrenaline kicked in.
The team paced out the exact measurement. They moved through brush and uneven ground. And there it was, a lumpy, curved stone that mimicked the exact shape of a kidney beam. Three for three. Three exact [music] matches to a map no one could even confirm was authentic. But the ground said otherwise. Gary swept his metal detector again. Nothing. No treasure, no spike, but the landmarks were validating the map. The implications were huge. This wasn’t just another dig spot. This was a code waiting to be cracked. And just when the energy began to drop, Judy Rudabush read the final line in Goodwin’s notes. One more boulder. This one cleaved across the top like it had been struck by lightning.
>> Let’s look in this direction.
>> Okay, we’ll check out this way. Okay, mate.
>> We’re looking for a big flat stone. It’s supposed to have a big X on it. The team followed the terrain guided by instinct and the map’s final clues. And they found it. A boulder shattered in half, jagged, weathered with a hollow beneath.
Gary stepped forward [music] and swept once again. This time the detector screamed. It was loud, unmistakable, a strong, sharp signal. The team leaned in. Beneath the stone, buried under decades of soil and silence, they pulled out something cold, heavy iron. But this wasn’t just a nail or a tool. It was an old cribbing spike, handforged and dated by eye to at least the 1700s, [music] possibly earlier. This wasn’t trash.
This was placed purposeful. [music] And what Vanessa Luc was about to do next would push the dig even deeper.
Literally, the ground that wouldn’t stay quiet. Vanessa Luc didn’t need more reasons to dig, but now she had them.
The forged spike found beneath the cleaved boulder wasn’t just old. It was out of place. You don’t bury industrial tools under marked stones for no reason.
This wasn’t trash tossed aside during construction. This was placed with intent, and that made it personal.
Vanessa, ever the tactician, called for ground reinforcement teams and cleared her ROC equipment crew to prepare. The next phase wasn’t about theories. It was about proving something had been hidden and maybe left behind. Drilling was set to go deep over 200 f feet into what was once believed to be undisturbed soil.
But what if it wasn’t undisturbed at all? Marty Legina pushed hard. More quesons, smaller diameters, faster deployment. Vanessa agreed. 7 to 8t quesons would get them in quicker, give [music] them flexibility, let them surround the target zone if needed. The island had shown them hints. Now it was time to make it talk. Meanwhile, something strange was unfolding across the island. Just as Vanessa prepped the drilling plan, Gary and Jack Begley were sent back out to continue sweeping the kidney stone zone. No treasure had turned up, but Gary couldn’t shake the feeling that the placement of the stones wasn’t random. Maybe the rocks weren’t just marking spots. Maybe they were pointing to something. He started tracing invisible lines between them, imagining how the stones might connect.
From the cleaved boulder to the kidney-shaped stone. From the carved Xboulder to the squared one. Something about it echoed precision, geometry, survey lines. This wasn’t nature. This was designed. And then came the twist. A survey stake was found jammed deep into the soil between the second [music] and third stones. Its shape was old, its depth unnatural. Its location perfectly aligned with the map’s layout. The team had seen stakes like this before, most notably in the swamp where Fred Nolan once discovered similar post carbon dated back to the 1500s. That changed everything. Suddenly, the scope of this map extended [music] beyond the page. It was reaching across time. But this raised new questions. If these stakes dated back to the 16th century, who placed them? And more importantly, what were they trying to hide? The team’s focus shifted fast. Attention returned to the north swamp where strange layers of planks and platforms were being unearthed. Structures that looked too methodical to be accidental. Historian Doug Crowell flagged something no one had noticed earlier. The elevation of the layered swamp steps was identical to the cobbled stone path found seasons ago. Could these planks be part of the same system? Could they be the foundation for moving something heavy, valuable, maybe even sealed in crates across terrain that wasn’t stable? Dr.
Ian Spooner was called in. His reaction, quiet disbelief. The wood looked old, very old. The degradation pattern suggested that it had been laid with purpose and then left. Forgotten, but not by time. Spooner mentioned that these planks stretched farther than expected, deeper, too. This wasn’t a dock. It was something bigger, something industrial. That word again, industrial.
As if Oak Island was once a factory, not of machines, but of hidden answers. Back on lot one, Vanessa’s team broke ground.
The ROC drill roared into motion, pushing through clay and sand with relentless precision. The first quesan was sunk to over 100 ft, then 150. At 200 ft, the drill hit resistance. A layer of stone, then wood, old wood.
Vanessa ordered core samples extracted.
When the first core came up, it was blackened, charred, burned timber deep underground. Why would something be burned 200 feet beneath the surface?
Rick studied the fragment. It wasn’t recent. The burn pattern looked aged, the structure brittle. Rick knew what this meant. They weren’t just digging through time. They were digging through someone else’s cover up. Something had been burned to hide it, or worse, to seal it away. Vanessa called for a second core. More wood. This time with cut marks, saw edges, hand cut, not machineade. Now the mood shifted because hand cut timbers found that deep meant structure, possibly a tunnel, possibly a shaft. And the old records, they mentioned tunnel systems extending westward from the money pit. Tunnels no one had verified until now. The core samples continued. Then came the discovery that changed the entire game.
Vanessa’s team retrieved something heavy lodged within the third core. It wasn’t stone. It wasn’t wood. It was metal.
oxidized, green, hued, fused to the side of the timber like it had been wedged there intentionally. The lab couldn’t identify it immediately, but the early analysis showed trace elements of gold.
This wasn’t just another relic. This was the first physical clue that something valuable might actually be down there.
And the deeper they went, the stranger it got. Markers in the mud. While Vanessa Lucito’s team pushed deeper into the Queson shaft, the discoveries were beginning to stack up like layers in the island soil. Each one older, each one darker. The metal fragment containing trace gold stunned everyone. The question wasn’t just what it was, but why it had been embedded inside a burned timber more than 200 ft below the surface. The implications ran deep, just like the shaft they were drilling. And it [music] didn’t stop there. The next core sample brought up something even stranger. Textile. A fragment of cloth decayed beyond recognition, but unmistakably fibrous. Something once woven by human hands. How does cloth survive under centuries of weight, under stone, under dirt and pressure and decay? The answer was simple. It had been sealed, preserved, hidden. But for how long? Back in the war room, the team scrambled to analyze. Was it a flag, a piece of clothing? a bag. They couldn’t say, but the preservation raised more red flags. It wasn’t just that something had been buried here. It [music] was that someone took great care to make sure it stayed that way. Now, the tension shifted to lot 21, a piece of land long overshadowed by the drama of the money pit and the swamp. But this lot had a long and unusual history. Once part of the McInness property, the family whose teenage son first uncovered the money pit in 1795. It had remained mostly undisturbed until now. Armed with the Goodwin map and the landmark triangulations, Rick and Doug realized something important. The three boulders formed a triangle. The kind used in surveying, the kind used to hide something deliberately. They pulled up old topographical data. The angles matched. And the center of that triangle, it landed directly on a wooded rise between lots one and 21. A place never drilled, never excavated, never touched until now. Gary Drayton and Jack Begley made their way out to the new point. Gary swept the area with his detector. Slow, focused, methodical. For a while, nothing. Then bam, a hit.
Sharp, metallic, shallow. They cleared the debris, dug gently, brushed back layers of leaf rot and root. It was a ring crushed, heavily corroded, but unmistakable. It looked like a signate ring, possibly from the 1700s, maybe earlier. The engraving was long gone, but the shape suggested purpose, identity, possibly even command. This wasn’t just some misplaced jewelry. It was a marker, a warning, a message. And just like that, the dig was redirected again. Vanessa called for ground penetrating radar to sweep the area beneath the triangle center. The results came back with anomalies. Deep rectangular voids, empty [music] spaces surrounded by denser matter, the kind that suggest caverns or chests, possibly tunnels filled in centuries ago. Vanessa knew what came next. She ordered ROC to reposition one of the quesons. Not widescale drilling yet, just a vertical probe, just enough to confirm, just enough to learn. And that’s when everything turned. At 90 ft, soft clay at 130 ft. charred plank at 160 ft. A sudden drop. The drill hit air. Not just an air pocket, but a cavity. The type that makes crews pause. Because empty space underground doesn’t happen by accident on Oak Island. It happens because someone left it there. Vanessa authorized a borehole camera. The footage wasn’t cinematic, just a blurry, shaky descent through darkness. Until it wasn’t. At 170 ft, the lens caught something flat, smooth, geometric, too smooth to be natural. It looked like stone, cut, stacked, layered, as if someone had constructed a platform or a vault. The team froze. [music] Rick stared at the screen, the depth, the dimensions, the strange even layering.
All of it was starting to match old records, old theories. The Chapel Vault, the thing Frederick Blair claimed existed in 1897, a structure supposedly 153 ft down, hidden beneath the original money pit. Had they found it, or had they found its twin, because this was west of the money pit, off the usual grid in the area that Goodwin’s map pointed to again and again. Back in the war room, the map was now relabeled in thick marker Goodwin Blair composite. No one could prove where Blair’s original map was. But what Vanessa’s drill was uncovering proved something else. The data was right. Because they knew whatever they had just unearthed, it was only the beginning. What lies beneath.
May rewrite [music] the whole story. The bead recovered from the core sample wasn’t large. It wasn’t flashy, but it was perfect, polished, designed. There was no mistaking it. This had been crafted. The smoothness alone proved it wasn’t just a natural formation. Whether gold, brass, or an alloy, its location, over 170 ft below ground in a sealed cavity, was the loudest signal the island had given in years. The team didn’t jump to conclusions. Not out loud, but something had shifted. Rick Laena knew the importance of restraint.
Still, even he admitted, “We’ve crossed into something different. It wasn’t the money pit. It wasn’t the swamp. It wasn’t the stone road or the strange stone basin from past seasons. [music] This was new, untouched, undisturbed.
And yet, it all connected.
Vanessa Luc stood in front of the borehole footage. The camera was still transmitting live from within the cavity. More structure became visible.
Walls that appeared to curve inward.
reinforced lines of stone, pressure fitted timbers, no signs of collapse, no sign of nature’s decay, which meant this cavity wasn’t an accident. It was built.
The drill wasn’t wide enough to extract a full view, but it was enough to raise questions, important ones. Had they finally located an alternate vault system? If so, why wasn’t it documented anywhere? Why was it west of the known money pit grid? [music] Could this be what the Goodwin map was hiding all along? Vanessa made a call. Expand the operation. Move from borehole testing to fullcale drilling. She knew the risks.
Quesons weren’t cheap. But with ROC equipment prepped and the weather holding, the opportunity was too rare to waste.
Three quesons were deployed, not in a straight line, but in a triangular pattern, mirroring the stones from the Goodwin map. Each shaft would test a different corner of the strange zone.
Each one a potential key to unlocking whatever lay beneath. The first queson struck compacted sand at 100 ft. Then clay at 140. Then timber again. Old layered interlocked. The second queson hit stone, a platform. Then beneath it, void. The third, that’s where the earth opened up. At 178 ft, a full cavity, deeper than expected, wider than the others. When the drill pierced through, the pressure changed. Air rushed up the shaft. Old air. Air that had been sealed for centuries. Vanessa’s team didn’t hesitate. A second borehole camera was deployed. This one had better lighting, stronger resolution, and the image came into focus. A chamber. It wasn’t large, maybe 10 ft across, 5t high, but it was real. And in the center sat an object that defied explanation. Rectangular, metallic, covered in what looked like sediment, but too smooth, too regular.
It was a chest, possibly a box, possibly a case, but not natural, not by accident. The chamber didn’t show signs of collapse. The walls were braced, timbered, cut clean, reinforced. Whoever had built this space knew exactly what they were doing. It wasn’t amateur. It wasn’t experimental. This was engineered. And here’s what made it worse or better depending on your point of view. A marking on the wall. Faint, almost missed. But when the camera light hit it just right, it revealed an X carved identical to the one on the stone found weeks earlier. The pieces were coming together. Vanessa stood silent for a moment. She turned to Rick, to Marty, to Doug, to Gary. We need to excavate, she said. not drill, excavate.
It was risky. It would take time. It would need permits, specialists, structural reinforcements. But the alternative was leaving it sealed, and that was no longer an option. Could Vanessa Lucido have just cracked open the hidden chapter of Oak Island that others spent centuries trying to erase?
What lies deeper in that chamber? And why was it buried with such precision and danger? Tell us what you think and don’t forget to like and subscribe for more.