Most of the recovered human remains were jumbled up, but over the years, preservationists have partially reconstructed some 98 individuals, all men between 10 and 40 years of age. The new study focused on 12 clavicle (collar) bones, which links the upper limb to the torso and is one of the most commonly fractured bones. Per the authors, it’s one of the first bones to start ossifying in utero, but the last to fully fuse, usually between 22 and 25 years old.
That was a boon for determining the age of the Mary Rose crew members, but the authors thought differences in bone mineral and protein chemistry could also shed light on bone changes related not just to aging, but also to lifestyle or disease, and even whether a crewman was right- or left-handed had an impact on those changes. They specifically looked at changes in phosphate, carbonate, and amine (the foundation of collagen), all major components of bone.
The results: mineral content of the bones of all 12 men increased with age, while the protein content decreased. Those changes were more significant in right clavicles rather than left ones, an intriguing result suggesting a preference for right-handed crew members. The authors note that this might be because, at the time, being left-handed was often associated with witchcraft. Perhaps those right-handed crew members put more stress on their right side while performing their duties, and this, in turn, asymmetrically altered their clavicle chemistry.
“Having grown up fascinated by the Mary Rose, it has been amazing to have the opportunity to work with these remains,” said co-author Sheona Shankland of Lancaster University. “The preservation of the bones and the non-destructive nature of the technique allows us to learn more about the lives of these sailors, but also furthers our understanding of the human skeleton, relevant to the modern world.”
Many people dream of finding lost or hidden treasure, but sometimes realizing that dream turns out to be a nightmare. Such was the case for Tommy Thompson, an American treasure hunter who famously beat the odds to discover the location of the SS Central America shipwreck in 1988. It had been dubbed the “Ship of Gold” since it sank in 1857 laden with 30,000 pounds of gold bars and coins—collectively worth enough money to have some impact on the Panic of 1857 financial crisis.
Thompson and his team recovered significant amounts of gold and artifacts to great fanfare, with experts at the time suggesting the trove could be worth as much as $400 million. The euphoria proved short-lived. Thirty-nine insurance companies filed lawsuits, claiming the gold was rightfully theirs since the companies had paid damages for the lost gold back in the mid-19th century. Thompson eventually prevailed in 1996, when courts awarded him and his discovery team 92 percent of the gold they’d recovered.
But actually realizing profits from the gold proved challenging; In the end, Thompson sold the gold for just $52 million, almost all of which went to pay off the massive debt the project had accumulated over the ensuing years. So naturally, there were more lawsuits, this time from the investors who had financed Thompson’s expedition, accusing him of fraud. Thompson didn’t help his case when he went on the run in 2012 with his assistant, living off some $4 million in assets stashed in an offshore account.
Thompson was finally captured by US marshals in 2015 to face his investors in court. A jury awarded the investors substantial compensatory damages, and the court ordered Thompson to hand over 500 commemorative gold coins that had been minted out of some of the Central America gold to meet that judgment. Thompson claimed he had forgotten where he’d stashed them and was jailed for contempt of court until the coins had been recovered and handed over. He’s still in prison as of this writing, and the gold coins have yet to be found.
It’s quite a tale, so small wonder that National Geographic has made a riveting three-part documentary about Thompson’s spectacular rise and fall: Cursed Gold: A Shipwreck Scandal, based on the 1998 book by Gary Kinder entitled Ship of Gold in the Deep Blue Sea. Cursed Gold director Sam Benstead read Kinder’s book and was instantly hooked on the story. “Not only was it a hugely exciting story with many twists and turns, but it was also an emotional story, which left you pulling for Tommy and his crew,” he told Ars. “Tommy came through as an extraordinary character: eccentric, brilliant, someone willing to try things no one else had. When I discovered all the things that had happened after the book, I knew it was a story I had to tell.”
Ship of Gold
A lot has happened to Thompson since Kinder’s book was published in 1998. Benstead and his production team combed through more than 600 hours of archival footage from the original expedition, as well as over 700 pages of court transcripts. “We also consulted multiple figures who we didn’t film with but who helped inform the story,” said Benstead. “In the editing process, National Geographic’s research department, together with our team, worked diligently to do their best to bottom out every fact, every claim. In a story that is so contested, this really helped us feel confident in standing behind the resulting films.”
“One of the main challenges was in condensing an incredibly complex 30-year saga into three films,” Benstead continued. “There were many legal cases and side stories that we had to exclude or could only touch on. And there were areas of the story that were strongly disputed by different sides. Sometimes we had to make choices that didn’t fully satisfy either camp, but we did our best to remain fair to the plurality of viewpoints, while also telling a powerful story.”
The director remains in awe of the original discovery, however badly the adventure turned out. “For the guys on the boat, almost without exception, this period was one of the best times of their lives,” he said. “It was a privilege to relive their struggles and final triumph in finding the gold. I still find it remarkable that they found the SS Central America in almost two miles of water with the resources they had in the 1980s.”
The experience also instilled “a real respect for the people who shared their story with us, especially Tommy’s family members, who have had so much written about them over the years,” said Benstead. “They didn’t trust us easily, and I feel very fortunate that they took part. Whenever people share the deepest, most affecting parts of their lives with you, you walk away carrying a big responsibility. I hope that they feel we have done their side of the story justice.”
Did Benstead come to his own conclusions about whether or not Thompson committed fraud? “Different people have different viewpoints on Tommy, even amongst those on the boat, investors, lawyers, and law enforcement,” he said. “We felt it was very important to allow the series to reflect this diversity and to allow the audience to make up their own mind. My own view is that Tommy isn’t a con man, and to be in prison for approaching nine years for contempt of court feels like a sad reflection on the US justice system. But it is also the case that, albeit under immense pressure, he made certain choices (like going on the run), which contributed to his own downfall. I hope that in the coming years his achievements, which have been obscured by the legal circus, are given the recognition that they deserve.”
Cursed Gold: A Shipwreck Scandal is now streaming on Disney+ and Hulu.
In April 1944, a pilot with the Tuskegee Airmen, Second Lieutenant Frank Moody, was on a routine training mission when his plane malfunctioned. Moody lost control of the aircraft and plunged to his death in the chilly waters of Lake Huron. His body was recovered two months later, but the airplane was left at the bottom of the lake—until now. Over the last few years, a team of divers working with the Tuskegee Airmen National Historical Museum in Detroit has been diligently recovering the various parts of Moody’s plane to determine what caused the pilot’s fatal crash.
That painstaking process is the centerpiece of The Real Red Tails, a new documentary from National Geographic narrated by Sheryl Lee Ralph (Abbot Elementary). The documentary features interviews with the underwater archaeologists working to recover the plane, as well as firsthand accounts from Moody’s fellow airmen and stunning underwater footage from the wreck itself.
The Tuskegee Airmen were the first Black military pilots in the US Armed Forces and helped pave the way for the desegregation of the military. The men painted the tails of their P-47 planes red, earning them the nickname the Red Tails. (They initially flew Bell P-39 Airacobras like Moody’s downed plane, and later flew P-51 Mustangs.) It was then-First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt who helped tip popular opinion in favor of the fledgling unit when she flew with the Airmen’s chief instructor, C. Alfred Anderson, in March 1941. The Airmen earned praise for their skill and bravery in combat during World War II, with members being awarded three Distinguished Unit Citations, 96 Distinguished Flying Crosses, 14 Bronze Stars, 60 Purple Hearts, and at least one Silver Star.
A father-and-son team, David and Drew Losinski, discovered the wreckage of Moody’s plane in 2014 during cleanup efforts for a sunken barge. They saw what looked like a car door lying on the lake bed that turned out to be a door from a WWII-era P-39. The red paint on the tail proved it had been flown by a “Red Tail” and it was eventually identified as Moody’s plane. The Losinskis then joined forces with Wayne Lusardi, Michigan’s state maritime archaeologist, to explore the remarkably well-preserved wreckage. More than 600 pieces have been recovered thus far, including the engine, the propeller, the gearbox, machine guns, and the main 37mm cannon.
Ars caught up with Lusardi to learn more about this fascinating ongoing project.
Ars Technica: The area where Moody’s plane was found is known as Shipwreck Alley. Why have there been so many wrecks—of both ships and airplanes—in that region?
Wayne Lusardi: Well, the Great Lakes are big, and if you haven’t been on them, people don’t really understand they’re literally inland seas. Consequently, there has been a lot of maritime commerce on the lakes for hundreds of years. Wherever there’s lots of ships, there’s usually lots of accidents. It’s just the way it goes. What we have in the Great Lakes, especially around some places in Michigan, are really bad navigation hazards: hidden reefs, rock piles that are just below the surface that are miles offshore and right near the shipping lanes, and they often catch ships. We have bad storms that crop up immediately. We have very chaotic seas. All of those combined to take out lots of historic vessels. In Michigan alone, there are about 1,500 shipwrecks; in the Great Lakes, maybe close to 10,000 or so.
One of the biggest causes of airplanes getting lost offshore here is fog. Especially before they had good navigation systems, pilots got lost in the fog and sometimes crashed into the lake or just went missing altogether. There are also thunderstorms, weather conditions that impact air flight here, and a lot of ice and snow storms.
Just like commercial shipping, the aviation heritage of the Great Lakes is extensive; a lot of the bigger cities on the Eastern Seaboard extend into the Great Lakes. It’s no surprise that they populated the waterfront, the shorelines first, and in the early part of the 20th century, started connecting them through aviation. The military included the Great Lakes in their training regimes because during World War I, the conditions that you would encounter in the Great Lakes, like flying over big bodies of water, or going into remote areas to strafe or to bomb, mimicked what pilots would see in the European theater during the first World War. When Selfridge Field near Detroit was developed by the Army Air Corps in 1917, it was the farthest northern military air base in the United States, and it trained pilots to fly in all-weather conditions to prepare them for Europe.
Famed polar explorer Ernest Shackleton famously defied the odds to survive the sinking of his ship, Endurance, which became trapped in sea ice in 1914. His luck ran out on his follow-up expedition; he died unexpectedly of a heart attack in 1922 on board a ship called Quest. The ship survived that expedition and sailed for another 40 years, eventually sinking in 1962 after its hull was pierced by ice on a seal-hunting run. Shipwreck hunters have now located the remains of the converted Norwegian sealer in the Labrador Sea, off the coast of Newfoundland, Canada. The wreckage of Endurancewas found in pristine condition in 2022 at the bottom of the Weddell Sea.
The Quest expedition’s relatively minor accomplishments might lack the nail-biting drama of the Endurance saga, but the wreck is nonetheless historically significant. “His final voyage kind of ended that Heroic Age of Exploration, of polar exploration, certainly in the south,” renowned shipwreck hunter David Mearns told the BBC. “Afterwards, it was what you would call the scientific age. In the pantheon of polar ships, Quest is definitely an icon.”
As previously reported, Endurance set sail from Plymouth, Massachusetts, on August 6, 1914, with Shackleton joining his crew in Buenos Aires, Argentina. By January 1915, the ship had become hopelessly locked in sea ice, unable to continue its voyage. For 10 months, the crew endured the freezing conditions, waiting for the ice to break up. The ship’s structure remained intact, but by October 25, Shackleton realized Endurance was doomed. He and his men opted to camp out on the ice some two miles (3.2 km) away, taking as many supplies as they could with them.
Compacted ice and snow continued to fill the ship until a pressure wave hit on November 13, crushing the bow and splitting the main mast—all of which was captured on camera by crew photographer Frank Hurley. Another pressure wave hit in late afternoon November 21, lifting the ship’s stern. The ice floes parted just long enough for Endurance to finally sink into the ocean, before closing again to erase any trace of the wreckage.
When the sea ice finally disintegrated in April 1916, the crew launched lifeboats and managed to reach Elephant Island five days later. Shackleton and five of his men set off for South Georgia the next month to get help—a treacherous 720-mile journey by open boat. A storm blew them off course, and they ended up landing on the unoccupied southern shore. So Shackleton left three men behind while he and a companion navigated dangerous mountain terrain to reach the whaling station at Stromness on May 2. A relief ship collected the other three men and finally arrived back on Elephant Island in August. Miraculously, Shackleton’s entire crew was still alive.
Shackleton’s last voyage
By the time Shackleton got back to England, the country was embroiled in World War I, and many of his men enlisted. Shackleton was considered too old for active service. He was also deeply in debt from the Endurance expedition, earning a living on the lecture circuit. But he still dreamed of making another expedition to the Arctic Ocean north of Alaska to explore the Beaufort Sea. He got seed money (and eventually full funding) from an old school chum, John Quillier Rowett. Shackleton purchased a wooden Norwegian whaler, Foca I, which his wife Emily renamed Quest.