Somehow, Gina Street’s metal detector seems to be a magnet for dental grills and Batman figurines.
Her husband, Jim, once found a 1969 class ring that he returned to its owner in Atlanta after a three-month search. Jim also discovered the handle of a Samurai sword in the water at Buckroe Beach in Hampton.
Just last month, Jack Rezabek dug up a gold, diamond and ruby ring at Buckroe, to go with a bag of tent stakes and a new pile of coins that added to his 39-year total of more than 50,000. And the ring doesn’t match his most valuable find: a $4,875 platinum and diamond band buried at Yorktown Beach.
Members of the Hampton Roads Recovery Society, or HRRS, have unearthed pocket knives, bullets, pieces of old foreign coins, historic military coat buttons and medals, eye glasses and even handcuffs. They’ve returned so many class rings that they’ve lost count.
“One ring had been missing for 45 years,” says Barry Merrill, president of the Peninsula-based club. “For us, it’s all about the thrill of the hunt, not keeping the stuff. All your eyes can see is sand, but there’s this whole other hidden world.”
What lies beneath?
HRRS has about 50 active members who comb local beaches with a variety of metal detectors. The club meets each month to showcase people’s finds; it also hosts monthly group hunts and two annual competitions with pre-buried tokens and prizes.
Most lost items are an inch or two beneath the sand, although the range for a typical detector is about six inches. The most valuable items, especially jewelry, tend to be in the water where people have been swimming. Detectors can pick up something as small as the back of an earring, which can result in maddeningly long digs.
Predictably, coins, bottle caps, jewelry, keys, fishing baits and small toys are among the common finds. The amount is surprising, though: in a single month, Jim Street netted 16 rings while Gina dug up 11 (along with a cellphone and, of course, two Batman toys). There are always head-scratchers, too.
“We’ve found fabric sofa buttons,” Merrill laughs. “Why would those possibly be at the beach?”
Sometimes, club members respond to specific requests for help, made by email, on Facebook or in person on the beach. If an owner is unknown, they do their best to find that person via online posts and searches, classified ads or, in the case of class rings, yearbook research or calls to class officers.
Two years ago, Cheryl Baker helped a young graduate of Texas A&M University find her class ring at Ocean View Beach in Norfolk.
“She was crying, she was so happy,” says Baker, who still keeps a picture of the beaming woman. “It was such an amazing feeling.”
As for Jack Rezabek’s priciest ring, he had no such luck and eventually sold it to another club member for a bargain $2,000.
Protecting the environment
Members of the nonprofit club, founded in 1986, say they hunt for the element of surprise, as well as the fresh air, exercise, friendships and an overall love of beaches. They often carry out buckets of trash, including dangerous items such as syringes and glass shards.
“I like that I can recycle all the twist ties, bolts, nails and bobby pins now,” notes Rezabek, whose hobby began with the discovery of a dime on St. Patrick’s Day of 1979.
Metal detectors also are careful to follow local ordinances and refill any holes they create.
“We are good for the beaches,” Jim Street says. “Our goal is to clean them up and work with people to find what they’ve lost. You’re never going to get rich metal detecting.”
As for overall advice to beachgoers, Merrill has two big tips: don’t walk barefoot, and don’t bring any valuable or sentimental items (or remove teeth grills, unless perhaps Gina Street is around).
“We’ll help as much as we can,” Merrill says, “but that sand can pile up fast.”