The next three digs turned up a 1965 1 Franc, a 1971 Mexican centavo, and a 1917 Canadian large cent. I was doubled over with laughter at that point. I looked around. A few fancy coastal summer homes, a lonely lighthouse on a small island, an expanse of rocky shoreline. Surely it wasn't centuries old highway for international travelers. No. It was obvious to me that what I was finding was one of a few things: some poor sucker's coin collection was either tossed over board or out to sea by his or her angry spouse or foolish child, a robbery had resulted in the thief abandoning the evidence by defenestrating the coin collection as he raced around the corner in the getaway car, or someone I know was playing tricks on me my flinging rare and random coins out onto the nearest beach to my job site.
Anyway, I kept at it and added to the list two two-pence pieces from 2000, an unidentifiable Chinese copper, and the last coin I dug, which appears to be, if mine eyes do not deceive me... a 1760 Mexican Reale. And this is all at high tide. I can't wait to see what low tide holds for me this coming week.