Hi all,
As the site now shows this isis has been found -- by us. We thought we'd post a brief account, including our mild false trails. We are the dwmmkoepfe, and we number four: the Brothers (whom we may call Big and Little Brother), the Stranger, and myself, your present chronicler.
I was introduced to the Isis Hunt on the evening of last Friday (21 December) by LB. We looked at the outstanding challenges and this one seemed to offer the most purchase. A google search (for "wight greenheart") led us to
this page about Yarmouth Pier, IOW, the only wooden pier left in Britain -- and which has greenheart piles. That seemed extremely promising. Additionally it had 552 wooden planks; if they were numbered, the magic number 497 could possibly be a number in that range, and "cross over AND" could refer to part of one of the names on the planking.
Noting the reference to a clock tower we searched next for churches in Yarmouth and found
a page about St James' Church, with pictures of the church and its prominent clock. The page notes its location, which helped us to identify the square clock tower on aerial photos of the area. You can see it, as well as part of the pier, on
this aerial photograph. The tower is on the east side of St James' Street, just south of the junction with Bridge Road. It seemed that it would definitely be visible from the pier and was more or less in line with it.
By this point LB and I were practically ready for a trip to the IOW. We didn't have all the answers -- and the word "seat" remained unexplained -- but we thought we had plenty enough to be going on with, and that any more information would only be discovered on site. It seemed so easy, though, that we wondered why this, of all free isis clues, had gone unclaimed since August. So we did some more searching, and found this forum.
At this point we found three things: first, that it was not as easy as we'd thought to make the connection with Yarmouth, most people having guessed Ryde or elsewhere; second, however, that Big Brian had made several attempts having indeed identified Yarmouth, but had an additional idea about a seat made from a part of a bridge; and thirdly that the token had recently disappeared and been replaced only a few days ago.
What were we to do? If Brian's information was right, should we abandon the search because we were stealing "his" clue? On the other hand, what about our own research? Even if Brian were right, our search was very close, and there seemed every chance we would have found the seat once we'd got to Yarmouth and exhausted the possibilities of the pier. Besides, we weren't entirely convinced of his lead: the link with the pier seemed unassailable. Though we wondered whether when Brian said "bridge" he meant "pier", since we knew the pier underwent restoration in the early 90s.
As you've guessed we decided to go. With or without Brian's posts, we felt we had enough to justify the trip. Besides, SW put the clue there for all comers to try, and Brian chose to put his information in the public domain; having read it we couldn't now "unread" it.
Getting there would have been another challenge: it's a fair journey from Cambridge, and time was short before I had to be away for Christmas. Happily Big Brother stepped in at this point and offered to drive -- something he used to do for a living. At the same time the Stranger, a military man, was recruited to help with the search. His soldierly persistence was to prove vital later. We set off at 4.30am on Sunday in order to catch the 7.45 ferry from Lymington and make the most of the available light; we knew we wouldn't have a chance once it got dark.
After some exhilarating driving we made the ferry with less than a minute to spare. The sun rose as we crossed, fog lay in thick folds on the bay, and there was ice underfoot. We made for the pier, the last wooden pier in Britain, with piles of greenheart.
It was a disappointment. There were several seats along its length, but none that seemed particularly distinctive. The planks weren't numbered, and 497 didn't seem to mean anything. We did have a moment of excitement when we calculated which plank would be 497th if you started from the seaward end: the benefactor named in capitals just a few planks further on was ANDY ANDREWS! Plenty of ANDs to cross over there. So we did some poking about, but there weren't too many hiding places. Then we speculatively walked towards the church from the pier, and found a manhole cover marked "BS497". But we weren't 80 paces from anything, and there was no AND in sight.
The tower has clock faces on the north and west aspects. Having had no luck on the north, it seemed sensible to investigate the west, particularly since -- as you can see from the aerial picture linked above -- there is a park there; plenty of plausible hiding places, and besides, Brian seemed sure the coin was in a tree. The aerial picture shows that there are several features in the north-west corner of the park which might furnish a starting point, or failing that the bridge might oblige. As soon as we got to the corner of the park we knew we had found the right seat. Clearly we shouldn't have doubted Brian, and just as he had said, the wooden seat bore a label proclaiming it a block out of the old greenheart pile -- not of the pier, but -- of the bridge, before it was replaced by the present bridge in 1999. The coincidence -- we were led to consider Yarmouth by the greenheart piles of the pier, which turn out to be unconnected to the seat -- remains curious.
Little remains to tell. The clock tower was plainly visible, and eighty paces or so towards it led us to another drain cover, with the British Standard number 497 in its centre. Taking a line from this through the word "AND" in the manufacturer's name on the perimeter led us, as Brian has already told, through a gap in a hedge towards a thin line of trees. There were perhaps half a dozen that were remotely plausible candidates for being in the right place.
We were not, I fear, very systematic. We combed them, we climbed them, we scraped earth out of their hollows, we lifted each other up to look in hollows higher up. It was still very cold, and we felt very dedicated to be there at all. Still, after the first hour or so we were were re-examining the same areas in an attempt to look busy to each other, and beginning to feel a bit foolish. We knocked off for some tea. After the break the Brothers set about examining some unpromising high-up feature, while I looked at a hollow that I realised was deeper than I'd noticed before and I could stick my arm in up to the elbow and feel around in. It would have made an excellent hiding place, but alas, there was nothing in it. Meantime the Stranger was inspecting a different tree hollow: one that I had already tried twice, dug plenty of earth out of and poked, I thought, exhaustively. But not so! For with a cry of triumph ("Hey guys -- I'm not joking this time") the Stranger announced that he had found the coin.
Our quest for a "free" isis was therefore successful, though it had cost us, in petrol, ferry tickets and provisions so close to the retail price as makes no odds. Our romantic treasure hunt was far more enjoyable, though, and as Big Brother says, we got a free day trip to the IOW into the bargain. Merry Christmas, all!