Pirate Hunters: Treasure, Obsession and the Search for a Legendary Pirate Ship

by Robert Kurson

existed. McKee had built a treasure museum next to his house in Islamorada, and that’s where Fizz found him, riding on a lawn mower. By now, McKee was in his sixties. “I want to be a treasure hunter,” Fizz told him, “and I’m willing to work for free to learn the business.” “I bet you’re a diver,” McKee said. “Yes, sir.” “What else can you do? Are you a boat captain? A mechanic? Have medical training? Can you cook?” “No, none of that.” “Everyone’s a diver. Got too many of those.” Fizz got into his car and drove back to Sarasota, where he enrolled in an emergency medical technician course, earned his boat captain’s license, learned to work on small engines, and volunteered to cook for fifteen firemen a day at the firehouse. Two years later, he drove back to Islamorada, where he found McKee, again, on the lawn mower. “I’m Carl Fismer. I want to be a treasure hunter and I’m willing to work for free to learn the business.” “I bet you’re a diver.” “Yes, sir.” “What else can you do?” “I’m a boat captain, I fix small engines, I’m a state-certified paramedic, and I cook. Meatloaf is my specialty.” “Good. You’re on my next trip.” And with that, Fizz began to learn from the master. It was the start of a career that would take him on adventures across the world.