Vanessa Lucido: “This Area on Oak Island Is Full Untold Mysteries!”

We have a number of items that we believe from a layman’s perspective can be associated with a ship fell into what the excavated money pit which was then 90 ft.

Why is it called the money pit if you’ve never found any money?

Because the money figuratively has been going into the money pit.

Oh, I understand.

Vanessa Luke talked about the most strange place in Oak Island and didn’t point to the famous money pit. Instead, she turned her eyes toward a forgotten part of the island. A place shadowed by trees, soaked in silence, and nearly untouched.

What if the real answers were never beneath the money pit, but buried just behind it?

This isn’t about treasure. It’s about rewriting history in a place that refuses to give up its truth. The forgotten shaft that refused to stay silent.

For decades, the heart of Oak Island has been pounded, drilled, and torn apart in search of the legendary treasure. But Vanessa Lucido, a woman known not just for her leadership, but for trusting her gut, isn’t looking at the center. She’s looking off to the side toward a shaft known by only two characters. One so X. And what she sees there isn’t just old dirt. It’s the start of a story that might be bigger than the legend itself.

Before we go any further, know this. The truth buried near Den X is far more explosive than anyone dared to believe. And what lies beneath could shake the foundation of history itself.

You don’t appreciate it till it kind of turns and goes past you.

Exactly. Most people have forgotten 10x. To them, it was just an odd experiment from decades ago. A place Dan Blankenship once risked his life exploring. But Vanessa doesn’t see it that way.

When she stood near it, surrounded by rusted metal, rotting wood, and the ghosts of failed attempts, she felt something that didn’t match the past. She saw opportunity and unfinished business.

Let’s get one thing straight. 10X wasn’t some side project. It was a battle. Dan Blankenship, a man whose mind could outpace most machines, spent over four decades clawing at the earth. He didn’t have fancy equipment or big sponsors in the early years. What he had was obsession and maybe something more. Knowledge no one else believed.

Vanessa saw it immediately. The moment he glanced at her oscillator, he spotted something in seconds that would take others weeks. She wasn’t just impressed. She was rattled because Dan wasn’t guessing. He knew.

Now, pause and let that sink in. You don’t dig for four decades unless you’re sure. You don’t haul equipment through mud and rock and danger unless something down there is whispering to you.

Dan and his son pushed 10X to depths most wouldn’t dare attempt—just shy of 200 ft. And they did it in an era without the tools we have now. Ask yourself, who does that for a hunch?

Exactly. But here’s the thing. Even after all that work, 10X still holds on to its truth.

Nice machine, Billy.

Yes, it is, Marty.

Nothing confirmed, no jackpot, no big reveal. And maybe that’s what keeps it alive. It’s not finished. It’s a place of unfinished stories. And Vanessa knows it.

That’s why she’s not just interested. She’s determined. She said it herself. This area is full of things we haven’t found yet. Not just physical artifacts. We’re talking about trails of intent. Signs that people once walked here with purpose and they didn’t come for sightseeing.

This wasn’t some camping trip in the woods. The layout, the tools left behind, the remnants found far from where anyone expected them. It’s all pointing to something layered, complex, and hidden in plain sight.

But it gets even stranger. Because while 10X has its uncertainty, it’s what lies just beyond it toward the wooded area behind the money pit that really cracks things open.

For years, this patch of trees barely got a second glance. It’s quiet, unremarkable, and doesn’t scream treasure. But that’s the point. The island has always tricked people into chasing noise, distractions, decoys.

What if the real answers are sitting in the quietest places?

Vanessa isn’t guessing here. Each season, new discoveries have begun to validate her instincts. Bits of ruby, pieces of ornate jewelry, a cross, even old parchment that shouldn’t have survived. These didn’t come from the money pit. They came from scattered points around the island. Some deep, some shallow. All of them strange.

And then came the shoe.

Yes, a worn-down shoe heel dated back to the year 1492.

That’s not just a clue. That’s a scream through time.

What is a shoe from the era of Columbus doing beneath layers of undisturbed earth on a remote island of Nova Scotia?

You’re not supposed to find something like that. Not there, not now. But that’s exactly what happened. And as the team dug deeper, it became clear Oak Island is hiding more than one story.

Maybe the money pit isn’t the main stage. Maybe it’s just one act in a much larger play.

If that’s true, then the areas Vanessa pointed to—10X and the woods behind the pit—might hold the final scenes.

The woods behind the lie.

They call it the money pit like it’s the heart of the island. But what if it’s the distraction? What if the real story lies behind it? Buried beneath roots and silence where cameras rarely go.

That’s where Vanessa Lucido has set her sights. Not for gold, not for fame—for truth. And in those woods far from the spotlight, things are starting to talk.

From the outside, this area looks boring. Just trees, uneven ground, and the occasional trail where equipment is passed through. But when you take a step back and look at Oak Island from above, from the bird’s eye view, it starts to form something else. Patterns, placement, purpose.

The woods behind the money pit aren’t just land. They’re part of a design, and whoever made that design didn’t want it to be noticed easily.

Ready to go?

Yeah.

Ready to rock and roll, Billy?

Here we go.

Ready for some slop?

Oh, yeah.

Vanessa isn’t new to digging. She runs a company that deals with earth like it’s paper. But even she admits this part of Oak Island feels different. The ground doesn’t lie the same way. The vibrations shift. The readings echo odd things beneath these trees. Something is holding its breath. And it’s been holding it for centuries.

Let’s talk about the objects.

Not the flashy finds that make headlines, but the quiet ones that show up on the edges—the ones that don’t belong.

Like pieces of garnet and shards of deep green jade. Minerals shaped by hands, not nature. Found not in the pit, but further back where no one was supposed to be digging.

Then came that piece of parchment. Old, delicate, and hidden. So deep it shouldn’t have survived. No map, no markings, just presence—a reminder that something literate, something precise once passed through.

And then there’s the cross. A bent, weather-worn object unmistakably shaped but missing just enough detail to stay strange. It wasn’t buried in a place of worship. It wasn’t even found in a structure. It was just there—as if someone dropped it during something much more important than prayer.

That’s what’s so haunting.

These aren’t just relics. They’re interruptions—like notes slipped into the wrong book. They remind us that history is not just out of order here. It’s being hidden.

Vanessa knows better than to say this out loud too often, but it’s obvious in how she talks about the site. She believes there’s more than one story buried here. And she might be right.

Oak Island isn’t behaving like a place with one single past. It’s acting like a place with layers. Each one laid down by a different hand at a different time for a different reason.

And here’s what really bends the timeline.

The shoe heel dated back to the year 1492.

Let that sink in.

That’s not just a detail, it’s a detonation. Because that date isn’t just old—it’s loaded. That’s the year Columbus crossed the Atlantic. That’s the line most historians draw when they talk about the New World.

But if a shoe from that exact year ended up buried on Oak Island beneath layers untouched by modern hands, then we have to ask the question no one wants to answer: Were people here before we thought they were?

If so, why? And why hide it?

Because that’s the pattern here. Not just hiding objects, but hiding the timeline.

Whoever buried these things wanted them found. Just not too soon, not all at once. Just enough to confuse the search. Just enough to point in too many directions at once.

It’s like someone left breadcrumbs in a forest full of fake trails. And year after year, the island chews up explorers and spits them out no closer to the truth.

The team started mapping it. Slowly. Carefully. Using new tech and old instincts. And the results were not normal. These voids weren’t random. They were aligned. Not perfect, but close. Angled in a way that suggested purpose, not accident. And more than that, they connected. One void led to another, like doorways in a forgotten blueprint.

That’s when the idea hit. What if this wasn’t just a place with secrets, but a place built to keep them? What if Oak Island isn’t a puzzle to solve, but a machine to navigate? Something designed with intention, capable of revealing only what it chooses when it chooses. Think about that. Not a trap. A test.

Vanessa doesn’t say these things lightly. She’s grounded, practical, surrounded by data. But even she admits the patterns are too precise. The locations too unlikely. If the voids are chambers, then they’re ancient ones. And if they’re connected, then someone long ago planned for them to be found—eventually.

And that’s what keeps the team going. Not the gold. Not the fame. But the possibility that beneath this quiet patch of forest lies something older than the myth, deeper than the story, and more important than anyone dared to guess. The island isn’t finished speaking. It’s just waiting for someone who listens differently.

Vanessa Lucido is listening.