Chapter 43
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Juneau, AK
Bill had left the previous morning for the airport, and Marco missed him already.
Usually, Marco preferred to be alone aboard Radio Flyer, but it had been great having the company and someone to show around.
Experiencing Bill’s reaction to the grandeur of Alaska made the whole place feel fresh and exciting again, and Marco was ready to get underway and continue exploring.
He had a notion to go back to Radioville to see what else he might dig up.
His original plan was to stop by the Alaska State Museum and Library while he was in Juneau, but the Historical Collections department was closed through the weekend.
He was itching to get back out on the water anyway.
The harbor office was busy, and he had to wait longer than he expected to pay his bill.
Dave, the harbormaster, recognized him and poked his head out of his office.
“Hey—Marco—I saw the article about you in the paper—so you’re a treasure hunter now, huh?
We charge prospectors double for moorage, you know. Be sure to add that surcharge, Gloria.”
Gloria laughed as she finished up the previous customer’s bill. “I put the article right up there on the bulletin board. Everybody’s talking about it!”
Tourist Discovers Hidden Gold on Remote Alaska Island
By Jake Jacobs
Special to the Empire
A pleasure boater helping with the search for a lost woman discovered gold hidden inside an 80-year old radio on a remote island off the coast of Chichagof.
Marconi Franco, aboard his boat Radio Flyer, found the ruins of a 1930s radio station that supposedly acted as a communications hub between the gold mining operations on Chichagof and the rest of the world.
When he disassembled the old radio transmitter he found, he got more than he bargained for—a hidden bag of gold!
Mr. Franco, who has been a radio enthusiast all his life, was excited by the radio history of the remote station, which would have been one of the early examples of radio communication being used in the Alaska Territory.
“I thought the missing woman might be on that island. Finding Radioville was tricky. It isn’t shown on any current charts, but I was able to locate it through a tip from a local, some old documents and a little bit of luck,” said Mr. Franco.
When asked what his plans were for the gold, Franco was vague.
“It’s not like winning the lottery or anything.
I think it’s just a few hundred bucks worth of gold.
For me, the exciting thing is the history.
What happened in Radioville? Why was this gold hidden inside this radio?
It’s all very curious. I think I may do more research, maybe go back there, and possibly write a book about it. ”
Marco regretted talking to the reporter even more. He didn’t like the attention, and the article made it sound like he was more interested in radios and gold than finding the missing woman.
He turned back to Gloria at the desk. “Gosh, now that I’m a hundred-aire, the sky’s the limit. Are you throwing in an extra cup of coffee with that moorage bill?”
Dave ducked back into his office and reemerged with some papers. “No sir. Coffee is full price for you rich folks.”
The previous customer left, and Marco moved to the counter.
Gloria looked at her computer monitor. “So this morning’s article said you also found some kind of book written in secret code?”
This morning? How did they…?
Gloria pushed the Juneau Empire that was sitting on the counter toward Marco and pointed to a story in the right column of the front page, right below “Third Woman Lost Off Chichagof.”
Plot Thickens on Radioville Gold Find—Tourist Also Found Secret Code Book
By Jake Jacobs
Special to the Empire
According to Bill Worth, a friend of Marconi Franco, the man who found gold hidden in an 80-year-old radio transmitter on an island called “Radioville” off the coast of Chichagof, the pair later also discovered a radio station log, and another journal written entirely in some kind of secret code.
Details of how and where the books were discovered are sketchy, involving one of the men falling from a cliff into an eagle’s nest, where the books were ultimately found.
“It’s an unbelievable coincidence. We actually had the books in our possession for several days before we even looked at them and noticed they were from Radioville,” said Worth.
Asked about the code, Worth said, “We haven’t cracked it yet, but we’re working on it! We’re both old radio guys, so we’ve been messing with codes our whole lives.”
Worth said Franco is planning to write a book about Radioville and promised to give the Juneau Empire the scoop if and when the pair breaks the code. Stay tuned!
Marco pulled out his wallet. “Yeah, but when did Bill give them that information? We didn’t know any of that when the reporter—”
Gloria interrupted. “Oh, that reporter is Jake. He’s good. And he dates one of the gals who works here. He was hanging out in the office when your friend came in and paid your moorage bill.”
Dammit. Bill just can’t leave that codebook thing alone.
“My friend is a little overexcited about codes. It’s probably nothing. I was more interested in trying to find the missing woman.”
Nice of him to pay my moorage, though.
“The bill is already paid, so that’ll just be one super-special styrofoam cup with four-hour-old coffee—ninety-nine-fifty.” Gloria had a mocking tone. She handed him a receipt with PAID stamped across the top.
Marco pretended to look in his wallet for his credit card. “Best we can figure, the gold was hidden there in that radio for the last eighty years or so. Can’t believe nobody’d found it before now.”
Dave stuck his head out again. “Yeah, that’s quite a story. Next thing you know, everybody in Southeast will be crawling all over those islands looking for buried—” His radio crackled and he stopped talking and leaned into his earphone. “Sorry, gotta run. Problem on the dock.”
Marco chatted with Gloria at the desk for a bit while he sipped his coffee, which was terrible. Finally, he folded his receipt and threw the half-full cup into the trash. He walked back down the ramp. There was a flurry of activity near Radio Flyer.
A worker pushed past Marco with a cart labeled Spill Response.
A large sheen of oil on the water stretched past the bottom of the ramp, and several people were laying out a floating boom to contain oil or fuel in the water.
There was a strong smell of diesel. The spill was specifically around his boat.
Marco hurried down the dock, and Dave intercepted him as he approached Radio Flyer. “You stuck the water-fill hose into your fuel tank. It overflowed and spilled diesel everywhere. It’s a big spill. I have to call it in.”
How could this have happened?
His boat had water and diesel fills on the same side, but he had never, ever used the wrong port and put fuel in the water or water in the fuel.
The caps were clearly labeled, color-coded, and required a special tool to remove.
His face burned with embarrassment. “I can’t believe…
I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how I did that.
What do I need to do? I’ll pay for the cleanup, of course. ”
“We’ll get it cleaned up. This happens more often than you’d think, so we’re good at it.
Should be no damage to the wildlife.” Dave seemed sympathetic.
“Still, this is gonna be expensive, Marco. There’s the cost of the cleanup, but there can also be big fines.
Sometimes they’ll waive those if you get in front of it and take responsibility. ”
Marco’s stomach was churning. He was always very careful and…
how could he have made this mistake? Definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
Radio Flyer’s engine couldn’t be started until the tanks had been completely emptied and cleaned—that meant pumping out hundreds of gallons of contaminated fuel and water safely, somehow.
The water would have gone to the bottom of the tank, pushing the lighter diesel fuel up and out the overflow at the top. It would be an enormous mess.
Marco walked past Fresh Crab Guy’s boat. The owner was sitting on the gunwale watching the activity. Marco realized the spill had probably ruined his crab business for a couple days at least.
Fresh Crab Guy recognized him. “That’s your boat, right?”
Marco nodded. “Yeah, I’m so sorry. I know this probably messes up your sales. Can I compensate you somehow?”
Fresh Crab Guy waved him off. “Ah, shit happens. I’ll be fine. But hey, there was another guy a half hour or so ago over there using that water hose. Is he with you?”
A man in gray overalls approached, rolling a dock cart filled with more oil-absorbing boom. Marco stepped aside to let him pass. “No, I’m by myself. What did he look like?”
Fresh Crab Guy shrugged. “Fisherman. XTRATUFs, Grundéns, orange beanie, beard, sunglasses I think, had a bucket…”
Nobody like that was around right now. The people working on the spill all looked official. “And he was using my water hose for something?”
Fresh Crab Guy motioned toward Radio Flyer.
“Yeah, looked like he pulled it out of your tank to add some water to his bucket…the thing that caught my attention was he was screwing the cap on your water tank with one of those tools and I thought it was odd that he was messing with the cap since he looked like he was just taking the hose out for a minute to get some water for himself.”
Marco’s heart pounded and a lump formed in his throat. Had someone done this on purpose? Deliberately sabotaged his boat? “You think he took the hose out of my water fill and put it back into the diesel fill?”
Fresh Crab Guy nodded. “Might’ve. Just seemed odd. He had a nervous vibe about him. Looked around a lot.”
This was not the kind of trouble Marco had been expecting. “You said like half an hour ago? Did you happen to see which way he went?”
Fresh Crab Guy stepped back aboard his boat. “Nah, he just went on down the dock and turned up one of those fingers toward all the gillnet boats. Didn’t look like anybody I know.”