We have our first Guest Blogger of the season - Professor Heather Kopelson of the University of Alabama is now safely back in NYC but was kind enough to send this post reflecting on her week and a bit digging with us!
I learned a lot this past week as part
of the excavation team at the Oven site. Although I had read plenty of
archaeological scholarship for my own research on Bermuda and New England, I
had never been at a dig site, let alone participated in the excavation of one.
Mike has already explained much of the
inner workings of a dig, and all the paperwork and measurements that go into
recording the Context To Be Destroyed. As an archaeological novice, I found the
combination of precision measurements (using the newly acquired laser level , seat-of-the-pants ingenuity (tape measure and levels taped onto a long
stick to make the elevation stick;
using a sifter as a makeshift ladder
to rig up a tarp over new squares--no photo of that one, I was busy steadying
the sifter against the tree; overturned bucket to get the right angle for
pictures and a tarp to prevent hot spots on said pictures), and brute force (to
saw through, chop up, and otherwise dig out Roots and Rocks Of Unusual Size

fascinating and even addictive.
Although the dig as a whole is a
collaborative effort, it has sometimes intensely individual aspects as well.
Many of the archaeologists-in-training developed attachments to their
particular squares and antagonism towards the intrusions (see above regarding
R.O.U.S.es) that were in the way of troweling out the current layer to be
sifted for artifacts.


A lot of behind-the-scenes work is
required for a smoothly run field school. There’s the technical side and making
the necessary arrangements for doing cool things like touring a
nineteenth-century fort
that a century later was used as classrooms for troubled youth

Procuring a boat and teaching students how to moor it is also essential when the site is on an island.
And then there are the scooter trips to
the supermarket at Shelley Bay to keep everyone fed, which is a large part of
keeping us happy. Friendly’s Celebration Cake ice cream, I’m looking at you.
Morning and afternoon snack and water breaks were important for refreshing body
and mind, even if students sometimes had to be reminded to call a brief truce in their fight against Context 005.

But no sooner did Mike issue said
reminders than he was sidling over to a square to dust off the newly exposed
profile along the vertical wall of a square, then picking up a trowel or shovel
to clear away a wee bit.I think he just liked getting to dig for
a few uninterrupted minutes without feeling like he was keeping students from
their squares.
Working at a dig is a chance to see
research in action in a way that doesn't happen as easily in the frequently
solitary world of the archives. Case in point: the missing corner in the third
square I worked on (N5 E5).

The adjacent square had a posthole, so Mike
expected that we would find the corner of the house in our square. Instead, we
found the continuation of the wall,
which meant that these newly laid out squares were inside, not outside, the house. He explained to the students how this discovery adjusted his theory about the function of that posthole, which now appeared to have been a middle, rather than a corner, support. It also meant that the house was much bigger than anyone had originally thought, an adjustment in working hypothesis that was strengthened by the discovery of some thin plate glass—potentially window glass—an indication of some level of wealth. We also found appropriately crude earthenware, which was a thrill to see laying on the top of my trowel.
As a fellow professor, seeing how Mike
integrated his explanations and challenged the students to apply their
knowledge throughout the day was almost as much of a thrill as finding that
sherd. The physical process and paperwork of excavation might be tedious at
times, but students were never left wondering how their work fit into the
overall findings, or how their readings connected to the excavation site.
Those connections also held true for
Seventeeth-Century Day, even though there was some
initial grumbling from a couple of students who contemplated staying in
twenty-first-century comfort in St. George’s after lunch. Mike explained the
vessels and cookware

laid out in the thatch-roofed Settler House


where
we were to spend the night approximating an early Bermuda living experience,
encouraged us to lay out the supplies to see what they were,
provided flint and steel, and decanted port from a bottle of eighteenth-century
shape to one of seventeenth-century shape while sporting appropriate headgear.
Even the students with less cooking
experience could taste the stew as it went along and notice that even after the
potatoes, carrots, and pre-soaked barley were appropriately soft, the onion
overwhelmed everything until the stew had cooked for another 20-30 minutes.
Lest they fail to realize the implications, Mike pointed out that the
experience of cooking over a fire should drive home the idea that women’s work
required a lot of skill, technical know-how, coordination, and physical
strength.
 |
Toasting our success. |
 |
The warm glow of fire and candlelight stands out sharply from the night surrounding the Settler House. |

It was also a treat to walk to the end
of Cooper’s Island. The beaches were beautiful and deserted, except for
our group of 13. Mike explained that Christopher Carter’s house was under the
asphalt of a parking lot built for the former NASA Tracking Station. Some used the time to gaze across the water.
Others competed in leaf- and pebble-throwing [5296] or continued
to look for artifacts, while our fearless leader took a few minutes away
from organizing us and taking photos to enjoy a solitary walk along the
beach.
I’m tickled to be Licensed to Dig (TM), and will stay tuned to this blog for future developments. I’ve heard
tales of metropolitan pottery that were hidden under an R.O.U.S. Exciting
times!

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