Frogmen Raise Riches of 250 B. C. From Sea Bed ( Sunday Times , April 12, 1953)
Wrecked Greek Galley Yields Archaeological Treasures
From Ian Fleming, Special Representative of The Sunday Times
Marseilles, Saturday.
For the past nine months, almost unknown to the world, a remarkable “treasure hunt” has been raising great riches from the sea just off the eastern arm of the Bay of Marseilles. Here, lying in 130 feet of water against the flank of a tiny island, the Grand Congloué, are the well-preserved remains of a Greek trading galley that foundered 250 years before Christ. Every day the wreck is yielding archaeological treasures that, in the opinion of France’s leading archaeologist, are without precedent.
Commandant Jacques Cousteau, the French underwater explorer, verified the nature of the wreck last summer, and he touches on his discovery in his book “The Silent World,” now a best-seller in England and America. Since then, with the help of the French Navy and of many other authorities, he and his team of amateur and professional divers in aqua-lungs and frogmen’s suits have been working through the winter storms to raise every piece of the wreck and all its cargo.
So far he has brought ashore to the Musee Borély in Marseilles more than 1,500 amphoras (Greek vases or wine jars), many tons of pottery of all descriptions and objects in lead and iron and wood , the majority in a remarkable state of preservation. And the lower works of the galley have hardly been touched.
200 Amphoras
Last night, I went on board Commandant Cousteau’s research vessel, the 300 ton Calypso, a converted minesweeper, which berths every night in the Vieux Porte. On her deck, still slippery with the mud of the treasure island, there lay stacks of graceful three-foot amphoras, more than 200 of them. Some still had the corks in their slim necks and the seals intact and the red brown terracotta was only occasionally encrusted with the scribblings of coral insects. One of the archaeologists showed me a pile of saucers decorated in the centre with four palm fronds. They were light and beautiful to the touch, the black patina soft as silk.
Everything that has been brought up, by hand or by the powerful suction pump which has been rigged on the island, will be taken to the museum where an inventory is being compiled. Then the Calypso will leave again for the island, no larger than Piccadilly Circus, where Commandant Cousteau’s teams work cranes and the suction pump and dive in pairs until after a 15-minute stretch they are called by a rifle shot to the surface of the sea.
We had a glass of Martinique rum in the comfortable board room with Madame Cousteau, who often dives with her husband. Among members of the team are two television engineers whose cameras will shortly show those on the surface exactly what the divers are doing so that the archaeologists can direct their work.
Galley Overloaded
“The galley was almost certainly overloaded,” said the Commandant. “We even think the crew may have been drunk. Most of the amphoras had contained wine and many seals looked as If they had been tampered with. She was a sailing galley about 100 feet long. We have discovered a lot about her, thanks to the initials S.E.S. on the lip of the amphoras and the mark of a trident or an anchor.
“S.E.S. was the sign of Marcus Sestus, a powerful commercial and political figure who came from the neighbourhood of Naples and settled on the island of Delos. He became a naturalised Greek and changed his name to Marcus Sestos in 240 B.C. He was an important figure in the economic penetration of the Eastern Mediterranean before the conquest of Greece by the Romans.
“The galley sailed from Greece in about 250 B.C. with wine from the Cyclades. It called at the island of Rhodes, took on a cargo of pottery and set sail for Marseilles where her freight would fetch high prices in money and slaves . She must have hugged the coast too closely and foundered on the Island when she was already within sight of harbour.”
“What more do you expect to find,” I asked, thinking vulgarly in terms of gold and silver and jewels and precious ornaments. But Cousteau is a scientist and it is his sincere disinterest in riches and self-advertisement that has won him the trust of every authority whom he has asked for help. He refused to be drawn. “We have not yet got down amidships,” he said, “and we have barely touched the hold. What we have raised has been mainly deck cargo.
“The deeper we search, the finer the quality. Each yard is a leaf off the artichoke of history. Everything we find is treasure. We have found wine. It tasted disgusting. The next lot we will keep for the scientists.
“Much of the hull will be raised. Her timber was protected by thin lead sheeting and by fathoms of mud and sand. We hope to reconstruct the galley and its cargo. Perhaps we shall sail it back to Greece. This is not the kind of treasure of which so many people ask. It is treasure for the mind.”
We walked to the rail and gazed at the neon-lighted frontage of restaurants and night clubs 50 yards away. I moved and my shoes rang against an unnoticed amphora. Despite the bright light and the strains of dance bands, the air seemed thronged with the phantoms of antiquity.
“In a few days, we will sail again,” said Cousteau. “Come with us and inspect for yourself a real treasure trove. You will be the first journalist to have visited the island.”
I thanked him and we said goodnight. As I walked away from the Calypso, I thought of this man who has so much of the quality of wonder in him and so little concern for the public glare.
Ian Fleming has arranged to take part in the diving operations at Grand Congloué and will report on his experiences next Sunday.