I found myself with about 1 hour before I had a lunch date w my oldest relative from my grandfathers family. I helped him get his new laptop setup, and connect his email ect. Anyways, I was going to do a easy in-town hunt, and I saw a current low tide of 5ft ( a high low tide ) - and I figured I would try to previously unproductive but accessible street end beach. The downtown shoreline of Puget Sound townships at the turn of the 1900s were fish plants, lumber mills, wharfs and mosquitoe fleet ( private ferry service) docks. I don’t hunt these places very often because I usually just find large boat and dock pieces. At this spot, the best I’ve done is a kung-fu throwing knife, and junker ring. That was a year ago or so. I walked onto the beach with a PMDA - positive metal detecting attitude. One of the phrases that passed through my brain was that I was going to look for a silver dollar. I dug a few high conducting lead wads. A fishing sinker and brass nails. I walked to where the rocks where a little larger, and I liked the deeper larger targets there. I was willing to dig any target, I wasn’t cherry picking silver dollar signals people! Sensitivity was on 13 or so. I’m Not sure what was interfering with my coil, but because of all the junk and iron here, I had to run it on low sensitivity’ What I remember before I dug the only coin of the day was that the signal was pegging the machine, but it was smaller than a popcan. I pulled some gravel back and pinpointed a nail or two in the peripheral. I pick the machine and found the high toned signal about half a foot to the left. I stab and scrape. My orange pinpoiner is still turned on from honing in on thoes nails, but I don’t need the orange stick. I see a freakin Morgan dollar in the ground. It wasn’t too far from the top of the beach, so it wasn’t full purple in color. With this Orange and black stained dollar in the hole, ready to be harvested and examined, I dare not even touch it until I called someone to be on the phone with me. My dad picked up and I cheered to him about the dollar I dug on a beach he has been familiar with for 70 years. “What’s year is it?” He asks, I tell him, “jeepers, I don’t know” and With that I now have permission to pluck the precious coin. “1893” I tell my pops. I was happy to have a coin from the 1800s. I only have a few this old. I flip it and it registers an ‘s’ mintmark. I assume it’s a common coin. I’m actually excited to dig a Morgan I can fondle. While on the phone, I look at the online price guide and see the numbers. I look at the date and mintmark to double check. I double check the guide and mintage number. I google it. The numbers add up - 100,000 minted. I realize on the phone w my dad that I dug the key date Morgan dollar!
Woody - USA
