Welcome to our World! Where we serve you cookies to ensure you get the best viewing experience on our site.

Did you know that you can remove censorship board-wide, use our advanced search functions, be notified when new content is posted, join our memberships, set episodes to show in any order you want & more if you are logged into your account?

Register or sign in here: ucp.php?mode=register

01x06 - Sunken Treasure

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau". Aired: 15 September 1966.*
Watch/Buy Amazon



American documentary television series about underwater marine life, directed by Alan Landsburg and hosted by French filmmaker, researcher, and marine explorer Jacques Cousteau.

01x06 - Sunken Treasure

Post by bunniefuu »

Upon the unpredictable
reef-strewn Caribbean,

once sailed the legendary galleons
of the Spanish treasure fleets.

Of the ten billion dollars
plundered from the New World,

more than six hundred million dollars
in bullion and precious stones

plunged to the bottom of the sea.

La Nuestra Señora de la Concepción

sank on November 2nd, 1641,

taking to a shallow grave a king's
ransom in gold and silver treasure.

Three hundred and
twenty-seven years later,

on the treacherous silver bank some


the men of Calypso begin one of
the most challenging adventures

in their undersea odyssey.

They search for the Nuestra Señora

and one million dollars
in sunken treasure.

When men hunt for sunken treasure,
they will always discover something.

Sometimes the treasure,
sometimes not.

But whatever happens,
they will surely discover

something they never knew
before about themselves.

More than fifty million
dollars in sunken treasure

remains unrecovered
somewhere in the Caribbean.

A million dollars alone in the
shallows of the Silver Bank.

We are proceeding to the Silver Bank.

My friend, Rémi de Hena,
soldier of fortune,

entrepreneur and treasure
hunter, led me here.

He claims that he may have located the
remains of the famous treasure galleon,

Our Lady of the Concepción.

I have promised Rémi
we will investigate the area

for no more than one week.

Rémi de Hena pilots Calypso
through the dangerous shores

of the uncharted Silver Bank.

First called Abrojos,
meaning keep your eyes open.

Here at least thirty known ships
have prematurely met their fates

on the eviscerating knife edges of
barely submerged pinnacles of coral.

Captain Caillard carefully
reviews with Siro

the final treacherous approach
to the location Rémi has charted.

The ship's launch sets out to mark
the narrow channel with sea buoys.

They will serve to guide their
helmsmen to a safe anchorage,

hopefully within yards of the
long-lost treasure galleon.

Entry in the logbook of
Calypso on July 13th.

The search for treasure
at Silver Bank begins.

Diver, cameraman, and launch pilot
make up the exploration team.

It is eleven a.m.

The sun is bright.

The water clear for the fifty
feet to the bottom of the reef.

Near the surface, on the
windward side of reefs,

coral can grow at the rate
of one-half inch a year.

It is conceivable then

that in the 327 years since
the sinking of Nuestra Señora,

ten to twelve feet of coral may
have forever sealed up the vessel.

Therefore I have asked Delemotte

to concentrate his search on the
desolate leeward side of the reef.

Here, coral will only flourish if it
can attach itself to fine objects.

For nearly an hour,
the launch tows Delemotte

through the silent depths
of the Spanish mainland.

Onboard Calypso, Cousteau,
Rémi, and the crew and divers

await the first report.

But all is negative.

An amazing and unbelievable
fifty-five minutes

after Delemotte begins the search,

he finds what Rémi
said he would find,

apparent evidence
that a sailing vessel

had long ago sunk at this
secret site on the Silver Bank.

It is a ship's cannon,

similar to the armament once
used to defend the galleons

of the Spanish treasure armadas.

Cameraman Deloire immediately
surfaces to report the discovery.

Cousteau decides to personally
explore the discovery site

to evaluate Delemotte's almost uncannily
quick find of the ancient cannon.

We have carefully studied the
tides and winds of the Silver Bank.

Once below, Rémi and I
sense almost immediately

the direction in which the
wreck must have been moving

before striking the reef.

We agree to separate, to seek out
the perimeter of the wreck site.

At the same time,
the exploration team

immediately begins to mark
and map their individual finds.

Topside, the launch crew cranks to life
a fire pump attached to a water jet.

The diving team immediately begins a
preliminary clearing of sand and silt.

Cousteau logically hopes to discover
fragments of the ship's timbers,

which will help him to
accurately identify the wreck.

Next, the mini airlift
teams begin soundings,

digging exploratory holes in
the area around the wreck.

The team hopes to produce evidence

which will aid Cousteau in
solving the first mystery,

to determine the perimeter
of the collapsed galleon.

In the meantime, the mooring crew

uses the jagged coral teeth of the
deadly reef head to secure Calypso.

Rémi, anxious to find
corroborating proof

that the wreck is definitely
the treasure galleon

continues his search just
below the crown of the reef.

There he believes the gaping hole
in the belly of the ill-fated vessel

must have first spilled out its
telltale cargo of silver and gold.

Suddenly, Rémi makes a discovery,

which will trigger dreams
of glory and fortune

in the imaginations
of the men of Calypso.

They are ancient ship's cauldrons,

the same kind of cauldrons
which helped save the lives

of the survivors of Our
Lady of the Concepción.

According to the sketchy accounts

given by some of the survivors
of the treasure galleon,

the night of the crash brought forth
an ingenuity born of desperation.

Huge cooking cauldrons were
hauled from the settling ship

onto the reef head,
submerged in knee-deep water.

The discovery of the cauldrons

brings ghostly images to the
imagination of the men of Calypso.

The panicky gathering of broken
ship's timbers and food supplies,

the first terror-filled
nights when signal fires

were kept ablaze in the cauldrons,

the hopelessness before the survivors
rafted off to rescue or oblivion.

Rémi's discovery of the cauldrons

had given us cause to
excavate the wreck site.

I knew I could not
disappoint my old friend

and the excited divers
and crew of Calypso.

But first Cousteau,
aware of how gold fever

can alter even the
strongest man's character,

cautions the men of Calypso.

Excavating the wreck site will take
relentless and back-breaking labor.

The wreck may or may not
be the treasure galleon.

They must also agree in advance
on how to divide the spoils

if they should discover treasure
or other artifacts of value.

He's put the undersea
gamble to a vote.

Each man in his own way awaits
the outcome of the secret ballot.

The returns are unanimous.

For the first time in the long voyage
of the research vessel Calypso,

the men and divers will
hunt for sunken treasure.

Date July 24th, San Juan, Puerto Rico.

We must hurry.

The Caribbean hurricane
season is approaching.

The men have worked night and day,

constructing the salvaging
equipment we will need.

Veteran Calypso comrade and
world-famous undersea archaeologist

Frederick Dumas
has hurried to join us.

Another treasure hunter

preceded Calypso to the
site of the Nuestra Señora

by almost 300 years.

They were under the command of a
Yankee adventurer, William Phipps.

Phipps was the first, most famous,

and perhaps most successful
of all treasure hunters.

In 1684, while calling for
supplies in the Caribbean,

he found one of the survivors
of Nuestra Señora.

The sailor revealed to Phipps
the location of the wreck

in exchange for a share in the gold.

With this unique piece of information,
Phipps sailed for the Silver Bank.

He had divers on board,

Caribbean natives that possessed an
extraordinary capacity for free diving.

They would have to
dive up to 50 feet,

search a wreck already encrusted
with 10 to 20 inches of coral,

recover heavy gold, silver bullion,
or coins, and return to the surface.

All this in one long breath.

Those of us who are trained divers

can sustain free dives for two
and a half minutes or more,

but it is exhausting.

Repeated 10 or 20 times
a day, it is body racking.

Nevertheless, Phipps divers
recovered more than a million

dollars in gold and silver.

The total was miraculous,

but it was only half the treasure
carried by the Nuestra Señora.

The men of Calypso have assembled

a sophisticated arsenal
of salvage equipment

to find one million
dollars in treasure.

First, the James and Mary,

named in honor of William
Phipps' salvage vessel.

It will serve as the terminal
point for a giant vacuum cleaner.

An improvised float
supports the hose

that will reach 50 feet
to the bottom of the reef.

A special 200 horsepower air
compressor supplies the power.

Once unleashed,
its roar will envelop the ship.

For 12 hours a day, its throb will
imprint itself on the mind of the crew.

Through the airlift pipe will
pass 50 tons of water an hour,

and 5 tons of sand,
silt, and coral debris.

All this must be swept
aside to expose the wreck.

Once in operation,

the giant airlift will be
treated with great respect

by the divers of Calypso.

It is so powerful it can
suck up a man's arm.

The airlift could literally suck out
a man's blood through his skin.

Waste sucked up from the wreck site

will pass through metal baskets
set in the James and Mary


and catch anything of value.

Soon all is ready, and Cousteau
calls for a final inspection.

A diver examines every
inch of the five-story airlift.

The hose goes straight to the
bottom from its terminal point,

but the nozzle, the working
end of the vacuum cleaner,

must be set up far from
the James and Mary.

If it were directly below,

silt and sand pouring
out of the strainers

would rain down on the divers,

cutting visibility and
filling the excavation holes



Then it goes 20 yards along the
floor to the first excavation.

To the crew from this day forward,
the airlift will have a name.

Seeing it in its entirety,

they christen their
temperamental toy,

The Monster.

An undersea lookout gives the signal,
and a 20th century treasure hunt begins.

Well, I have the impression
that the suction pipe

with a long flexible hose based
on the principle of an airlift

works pretty well.

But they seem to have a lot of
trouble with the ground itself.

Well, the ground is especially
difficult for a suction pipe

because it is a mixture of
mud and gold with big lumps.

And you, Rémi?

Well, I think the same,
but the problem is

that it's a lot of material to remove
and it needs at least one assistant,

maybe two on each diving team.

Well, we'll organize the teams
with at least one assistant.

At Rémi's suggestion,

a third man is added to the
alternating airlift teams

to control the powerful
bucking of The Monster.

Relief divers exchange their
foot gear for scissored off fins,

which are used as boots
by the excavators.


divers to operate in fixed positions.

Before the ascending team returns
to Calypso for a much needed rest,

they turn over to the relief divers
their helmets with built-in work lights.

Each team works an hour and a half.

Four teams take alternating shifts.

The work goes on without
a break for 12 hours a day.

Medium-sized pieces of
material create new problems.

Unable to pass through
the suction pipe,

they are sent up in a
steel mesh gondola.

When the basket is filled,

the divers inflate the
gasoline drum balloon

with a small bottle
of compressed air.

While the airlift teams
have been working on

the level areas of the wreck site,

another team has devised a method
of bringing on board Calypso

mysterious ton-heavy chunks of coral,
which stud the recovery area.

It is Deloire who named
them cannon coral.

He discovered these
toadstool-shaped formations

seem to go around
large metal pieces,

cannons in particular.

Once on deck,
a voluntary Alcatraz crew

breaks the coral apart to
reveal its inner secrets.

Tons of coral produce nothing,

but large or small, every piece of
coral brought up from the wreck site

must be opened up.

Even the smallest piece of
coral could contain a fortune

in pieces of eight or precious gems.

The enormous effort results in
but a hope-sustaining collection

of cannonballs and ships rigging.

Still, the men of Calypso
are not easily discouraged.

Voluntarily, they agree
to live on short rations,

forego showers to save water

so that Calypso can remain
on station as long as possible.

Such is the nature of gold fever.

The first important aspect of
hunting for sunken treasure

is to minutely examine
the few and mostly

fragmentary remains at a wreck site

for clues which will conclusively
identify the age, nationality,

and hopefully the name of
the suspected treasure vessel.

The potential outcome of the adventure

and the extent to which the dangerous
and backbreaking work will continue

depends entirely on knowing
as quickly as possible

that the wreck you are exploring
is the wreck you believe it to be.

So with treasure hunter hearts,
the search for clues begins.

Moving a mountain is all in a
day's work for a gold miner.

Making a mountain
is all in a day's work

for the treasure hunters of Calypso.

After 17 days of searching
the wreck site,

we still have not confirmed the
identity of the sunken vessel,

but we have provided some unexpected
benefits to the inhabitants of the reef.

Scavengers forage for sea
worms among the coral debris.

Bearded mullets seeking
micro marine tidbits

seem to emulate the Calypso airlift.

The divers dig on,

cheered by the arrival of their
colorful and curious friends.

Inadvertently, we dislodge tasty
morsels from their hiding places.

For one brave and aggressive
damselfish, however,

we are not quite welcome.

Our presence in her territory has
lured a host of unwanted guests.

She is determined to guard her
ground against all invaders,

regardless of their size.

And that goes for the divers as well.

August 3rd.

The deep digging monster reveals
the first important artifact.

It is a kind of pottery,

normally carried by sailing vessels
outward bound from the New World.

The crudely fashioned jug

resembles containers made
by South American Indians.

They were used by mariners
during the long Atlantic crossing

for the preservation of foodstuffs.

But most exciting is the fact
that the pottery is unbroken.

Inside the still stopper
jug are small vertebrae,

a sign that the jug had been
used for preserving fish.

The divers have taken an extra
precaution against injury.

Brightly colored gloves serve as
warning flags to the airlift operator.

The excavators next turn up a syringe,

commonly found in the pharmacies of
the more sophisticated sailing vessels,

such as the Spanish treasure galleons.

Coral clings to metal,
and to strip away the last layers,

Robineau applies a fuming
batter of hydrochloric acid.

The best comes last, a metal plate.

Often on treasure ships,
the table service was made of silver.

All of us wait for the acid to reveal
a bright and shining surface.

More tin and pewter plates
are discovered by the divers.

And then suddenly in the eerie
world of this mystery ship's grave,

the divers find fragments of bones.

For a moment there comes
ghostly images of men

who may have gone
down with their ship.

And then the sudden realization of
just what kind of bones they are,

soup bones.

Bernard is digging
here near this g*n

and is finding remains of the kitchen

and heaps of ox bones and pork bones.

So we probably are near the
galley in the forecastle.

What do you think, Rémi?

Oh, it's quite true, the galley and
the ship store were in the forecastle.

But part of the forecastle
and part of the deck

might have collapsed on one side.

So to find the real hull,

we have to dig across to
find the heavy timber.

Yes.

Cousteau, Rémi, and Dumas

agree that the excavation
must take a new direction

if they are to find the hull in which

the ship may have carried
heavy gold or silver bullion.

Anyway, we are not very far.

Oh no, certainly.

Much like detective work,

each new find provides
another clue to the mystery.

Time after time, the
excavators unearth

stacks of fragile cups and
bowls completely intact.

They are set inside each other

as if they had been
packed in cargo crates.

Based on this evidence,
Dumas will set forth a theory.

He believes the ship settled on
her side when she went down.

The crates, he speculates,
must have been stored on deck.

As the ship rolled on her side,
deck cargo had slid off into the sea.

It rested there undisturbed and unbroken.

Fragile objects which
remained inside the wreck

would ultimately have been crushed

by the rotting and
collapsing ship's timbers.

As the divers bring the fragile
cups and bowls aboard Calypso,

we are again stimulated in our labors.

The delicate tableware appears at first
to be genuine Chinese porcelain,

worth a fortune.

We recall that at the height of
the Spanish treasure armadas,

galleons from the Philippines
would transfer cargos

of Chinese porcelain to
ships bound for Spain.

Now we have porcelain.

Next, obviously, we must find gold.

U.S. Air Force weather planes
scour the unpredictable Caribbean.

Their reports are useful to Calypso.

Captain Cayard maintains
a detailed weather map.

And on the 15th of August,
a dreaded storm breaks.

He makes a crucial decision
to stay on station,

convinced that only the edge of the
storm will pass over Calypso's position.

The divers celebrate their
first work break in 15 days

by luxuriating their salt-sore bodies in
the cool freshness of the tropical rain.

For several days preceding the storm,

the excavators had
unearthed no new artifacts.

Cousteau and Dumas inspect
the cross-section trenches

carved by the divers to the
apparent perimeter of the wreck.

The operation area is empty,

save for the remnant planks of the
ship's hull exposed by the digging.

Cousteau now sees that the
wreck is not a whole ship,

only the forward third, where the
galley had probably been located.

Convinced that his theory is right,

he signals to Dumas his belief
that the ship had broken in two

when it crashed on the reef.

Here are the g*ns and
the front part of the ship.

If it was 50 meters long,
it was like this.

But we know that it
was broken in two,

and the rear probably
drifted in the storm

and went to the other g*ns over there.

An excavating team with the
portable and self-contained airlift

immediately begins
to explore a new site.

Here Cousteau believes the other
portion of the collapsed wreck

may be hidden under the drifting silt.

As our divers begin
work on the new site,

I sense there is something
new in their hearts.

It is neither dreams
of glory or fortune.

Rather, it is an ironic humor and
a professional determination

to wrest the secret identity
of this ancient wreck

from the venerable but inexorable sea.

Although Spanish treasure
ships often carried

French, Dutch, or Italian armament,

Cousteau also decides to bring one
of the wreck's cannons aboard.

There is a slight possibility
that the arsenal markings

may shed some light on
the identity of the wreck.

The cannon reveals little.

Inscribed on the cannon is
only the cryptic code H2250A,

but no date.

Even had a date been
etched on the cannon,

it could have proven deceptive.

Cannons forged in the late


up to as late as 1820.

The recovered cannon
does reveal one thing.

When the ship crashed on the reef,

its g*ns were loaded
and primed for combat.

A common habit of most ships
captains during the open sea days

of pirates and privateers

who preyed on cargo
and treasure ships alike.

The cannon weighed more than a ton

and was capable of firing a
mass-snapping cast iron ball

weighing up to eight pounds.

Our catalogue of work is frightening.

Eighteen days of back-breaking labor

deafened by the constant
din of the compressor.

Hours of endless hammering

and the sifting of 300
tons of coral debris.

For all our effort,

we have a deck cluttered by
pottery of questionable worth,

a cannon, and some cannon ba*ls.

In purely economic details,
mad expenditures.

In terms of human effort,
incalculable output of energy.

Still, there is hope.

The fever of discovering.

How brightly it burns.

How few complaints.

Still, we have no proof that
our labor may bring reward.

And then there is
the first piece of gold.

And I frankly wonder if it
is an omen of the future.

A gold medal of St. Francis of Assisi,
patron saint of the poor.

The sharks, which had cruised
the eerie gravesite of the wreck

before the treasure
hunt began, returned.

Perhaps they have returned
because in some primeval way

they sensed the time has come for
Calypso to depart the Silver Banks.

But to veterans of the
Red Sea expeditions,

the sharks are simply
another variety of fish.

In spite of the omens,
or perhaps because of them,

the divers are as anxious as ever to
learn the true nature of the wreck.

They have moved The
Monster to the new site,

where the digging
continues in earnest.

Their determination is
about to be rewarded.

Suddenly the teams uncover
a cache of lead packing seals.

Carefully and gently the diver places
the tiny seals inside his work glove.

Packing seals had always been used
by mariners to seal gold packets.

They discourage cargo tampering,

and more important,
may identify the owner of the cargo.

I knew once again we had not found
conclusive proof of the ship's identity.

The fleur de lis in the design
has been used commonly

by both the French and the Spanish.

The Latin inscription
expresses the thoughts

of all the early conquerors
of the New World.

Florebo quo ferar.

I will flourish wherever I go.

Meanwhile, below, the excavators have
unknowingly discovered the telltale clue,

which at long last will
affect the final outcome

of Calypso's hunt for sunken treasure.

It appears to the divers
to be a bell clapper,

but is in fact a brass weight that
had been used on the ship's scales.

In the century when
the weight was used,

the boards of trade of the various
European maritime nations

would check the honesty of the
ship's weights every five years

and inscribe on the weights
the last date of inspection.

Cousteau and Dumas inspect
the divers' newest finds.

First, the fossilized impression
of an officer's p*stol.

And then a mould.
The ship's silversmith,

had probably used on board
to manufacture spoons.

Next was the remains of
a handguard for a sword.

And finally, the brass weight
from the ship's scales.



The hunt for sunken treasure is over.

We found this scale weight,

and we know because of
the date inscribed on it

that the ship we're working on
is at least a century younger

than the galleon we hope to find.

What nationality was that ship?

Well, you know, we found a seal here,

and I'm sure that specialists can tell us.

Also, we found on this
part an inscription.

It seems to be Dutch.
I'm not sure.

Looks like.

The ship was carrying a cargo
of thousands of bottles,

square bottles like this,
all the way around, you know?

Yes, very likely.

And hundreds of pieces of pottery,

these goblets, these cups.

With gold fever drained
from the atmosphere,

archaeologist Dumas has taken time to
carefully examine the cups and bowls.

He concludes they are
not Chinese porcelain.

He surmises they would be
classic European designs,

with their confirmations
and decorations

naively modified by the Indian
artisans of South America.

All these plates, very curious plates.

Very strange design.

Which shows that the
ship probably was sailing

from the New World to the Old World.

Very probably. I'm not sure yet.

August 25, 5.45 in the morning.

The ship is still asleep.

I feel strangely alone.

My equipment feels lighter than usual.

As I slowly sink,

I can embrace the entire
work area at a glance.

We will soon be closing
our treasure hunt.

In 15 minutes,

Raymond and Jean-Pierre
will dive to their tasks.

But now I am alone,

and at home in the sea.

Today, objects have a new dimension.

Time is abolished.

Wooden planks, anchors, cannons

belong to the Flying Dutchman.

The suction hose is
the sea serpent asleep.

Water frees me from gravity

and wings to realities.

Here, success and failure

become so much alike.

Both have little importance in the end.

And I feel today

how much my own approach to the world,

to men, to society,

how much all my morals
have been influenced,

then dictated by 32 years of diving.

When men hunt for sunken treasure,

they will always discover something.

Sometimes the treasure, sometimes not.

But whatever happens,
they will surely discover

something they never knew
before about themselves.

As men, it is revealed
more in their eyes

than in their words.

One of the oldest expressions
in the French language

is, c'est la vie.

That's life.

Casually tossed off, the
expression is deeply profound

and at the same time ironic.

A way of laughing at life when
things have not gone well.

A way of saying, life is short.

So let's get on with it.

It is in this spirit that ??? and Dumas

salutes the Calypso's
hunt for sunken treasure.

As the men look forward
to their next adventure

in the undersea world.

The ways of the sea,

the ways of sunken treasure hunters

are as certain as the sunrise.

In a few years, the tide-shifting
sands and the coral

will cover up all traces of our visit.

Sometime in the future,

another Rémi de Héna,

another Frédéric Dumas,

another Calypso may come here as we did

with their imagination stirred

by the fabled gold and silver

of Nuestra Señora de la Concepción.

There would be no treasure.

But perhaps, if they
found the curious remains

of the James and Mary we left behind,

they would laugh at themselves

the way we laughed at ourselves.

C'est la vie.