I became hooked on this one after reading a paragraph out of Peter Throckmorton's book, "Diving for Treasure." He wrote that a Sidney Wignall of Wales, Britain, 'found what is almost certainly the wreck of the Bonhomme Richard.' This was news to me, so I contacted my publisher in London who tracked down Wignall.

We began corresponding. His side scan survey off Flamborough Head, where it was supposed the Richard sank after her epic battle with the British frigate Serapis, showed three shipwrecks which he swore had to include Jones' ship.

We then began planning a salvage dive. Talk about putting a 427 AC Cobra engine in the trunk. For two rain-filled weeks I stood like a dummy and watched Wignall make every mistake in the book. No wreck had even been identified yet and we had two tons of dive equipment, including a decompression tank. Our expedition ship was a real winner too. A decrepit old minesweeper that went down with all hands in the North Sea a few months after we chartered her. She was called the Keltic Lord, but certainly didn't look like one.

The British crew were decent guys, but operated in slow motion. My renowned speech occurred when one of the ship's crew helped the shore crew on board one morning from a dingy in a four foot sea. They gave an assist to everyone but me. I was left in the boat struggling with briefcase, camera equipment and an armload of nautical charts. Properly ignored, I somehow flopped over the railing with assorted bruises and a barrage of four letter words. It wasn't the first time. I generally received less respect than Rodney Dangerfield.

I assembled the entire team in the galley and held up my right hand, telling them that no matter the calamity, typhoon, tidal wave, underwater volcanic eruption or fire, their first duty was to protect that hand. The sea of blank, uncomprehending faces was invigorating. The bait was thrown out and one of them had to ask.

"What's so special about your hand?"

With my finest fox-like look I replied. "Because that's the hand that writes the checks."

The point was made, and I received the proper respect due my wallet thereafter.

Marty Klein and Gary Kosak showed up with their Klein side scan and we commenced to search. Of the three wrecks, one looked vaguely promising from the recorder readings. Gary and two Brits dove on the wreck and reported it as an iron ship that we later identified as the Charing Cross, a freighter that was torpedoed in World War I. The other two ships from Wignall's first survey were the Commonwealth and the Chicago, both freighters sunk by WWI U boats.

So much for NUMA's first shipwreck expedition. I think I can honestly say it was an unqualified disaster.

One of the divers brought up and presented me with a copper faucet from a sink inside one of the wrecks.

It is the only artifact I've ever kept. And why not? That has to be the most expensive faucet in the world. If you doubt me, I can still show you the bills from the expedition.

That damned faucet is all I have to show for $80,000.