It was a nice day for a swing so we packed the Toyota and headed to the closest ghost town. An old silver mining town from the mid 1800's near Irvinebank, Far North Queensland, Australia. On arrival we saw the obvious signs of old inhabitable ground, big old bottle dumps which had been fairly excavated. After finding a nice shady tree to park under we all went our separate ways. This particular ghost town had been a rest stop in the mid 1800's for Cob n Co coaches and had about 4 hotels, shops and quite a few residents. I t had also been a favorite hunting spot for some club members for many years till most of the coins dried up.
As I moved slowly through the regrowth the CTX was humming nicely and every so often would scream out that nice high tone, which was usually a rivet washer. I was cruising around in my own little world weaving through the small patches of paperbarks when the CTX went nuts, quickly I looked at the numbers 12-46, I thought to myself, nah couldn't be but it held that single tone loud and clear so I swung the pick at the spot and dug a 4x4 inch hole and waved the coil over it, to my surprise it was in the mullock already, so I turned on the pinpointer and headed down to investigate, as soon as I got within 3 inches of the mullock the pointer went nuts, vibrating madly in my hand. so I reached into the middle of the pile of dirt and grabbed a handful and stood back up to see if I had something, as I opened my hand there it was a big shiny Gothic Florin, I'd been after one for so long that I couldn't contain myself and whoo hoo'd as loud as I could.
On inspection I noticed I'd hit her badly with the pick, but it didn't matter, I had my first 1800's Gothic florin. I then swung the coil back over the hole and to my absolute amazement the CTX squealed out again. This time I was more careful in my approach and gently removed the top 4 inches, bingo there it was right on top of the mullock a 1854 British shilling. I took one more swing with the CTX from left to right and again that high pitch tone loud as hell. I thought to myself it couldn't be but after a few scrapes there it was another shiny shilling. As I wiped the dust from it noticed an unfamiliar head, it was a George III 1817 shilling, my oldest yet, again the excitement was too much and whoo hoo echoed through the silent bush. By this time my hunting buddies were heading over to see what all the racket was about. I open my hand to reveal 3 shiny silver coins, their mouths hung wide open, and when I told them the dates they nearly fell over. I then pointed to the 3 holes behind me and they didn't need a second invitation swing here and there. I just sat on a fallen log admiring my new additions to the album. But no more coins could be found by the other two that day.
Chris – QLD, Australia