The Curse of Oak Island. As the US celebrates Independence Day, work continues north of the border. The Curse of Oak Island team has been working hard this week with truckload after truckload piling over the causeway between the island and the Nova Scotia mainland. Rick and Marty Lagina might be Michigan boys born and raised, but there was no time to stop and celebrate the US Independence Day yesterday as work continued unabated.

Of course, the guys and the many Canadians that make up the fellowship of the dig may have taken some time off to celebrate Canada Day on Monday, July 1st. We don’t know what the guys did on Monday, but Oak Island was full of activity. The fine folks at the social media blog Oak Island from the Other Side of the Causeway posted two fresh snaps of dump trucks crossing the causeway toward the island.

The blog claimed many people, including cast, crew members, and tourists, were going back and forth all day. The island is supposedly closed to tourists this summer, but many fans are determined to get through. Summertime is the busiest time on Oak Island. The blog also included a third picture showing the war room and interpretative center complex with multiple vehicles parked outside.

The caption read: “Truck load after truckload of stone on a very breezy Thursday. Lots of traffic, including workers, film crew, cast, and tourists. No shortage of dust.”

These images follow others taken three weeks ago, which showed a large excavator digging in the swamp and Smith’s Cove. The guys have largely stayed clear of the cove in recent seasons, which begs the question—have they uncovered something new?

Smith’s Cove was home to five stone box drains, which were likely used as part of the booby trap system that floods the money pit when anyone gets too close. The cove was also where metal detectorist Gary Drayton uncovered the famous lead cross, dating back to the 1300s or 1400s.

Meanwhile, Gary marked Canada Day with a celebratory post. He shared a picture of a Canadian and a Nova Scotian flag against the background of the sun setting over Mahone Bay.

The 4th of July is a day of fireworks, cookouts, and flag waving across the United States. Families gather for backyard barbecues. Towns hold parades, and the night skies are painted with bursts of red, white, and blue. But for the Oak Island team, there’s no pause button—no national holiday from the mystery that has gripped them for over a decade.

While America takes the day off, the rhythmic hum of machinery and the echo of voices carry across Nova Scotia’s Mahone Bay. Work continues quietly, relentlessly north of the border. For Rick and Marty Lagina, the day begins like any other, early.

The mist is still clinging to the water when they step onto the island. The air is cool, the kind of damp chill that seeps into your bones, but it’s also alive with promise. “This is what we do,” Rick says simply, gazing toward the garden shaft. “The treasure doesn’t care what day it is.”

The garden shaft, a place of equal parts frustration and fascination, has been a focal point all season. Weeks of careful excavation have revealed stacked timbers, evidence of human construction deep below the surface, and most recently, faint traces of gold in the water samples. Now, the team believes they are closing in on a tunnel that could lead straight toward the legendary chapel vault—or perhaps the elusive money pit itself.

Heavy equipment roars to life. Across the causeway, trucks bring in supplies. There are no fireworks here, but the tension in the air is just as electric.

Gary Drayton, the island’s ever-optimistic metal detecting expert, is already pacing along the perimeter of the work site with his trusty detector. His headphones are snug over his ears, his eyes scanning the ground like a hawk. “Holiday or not, mate,” Gary grins. “History is still out here waiting to be dug up.”

Nearby, Scott Barlow oversees the engineering crew, lowering another massive steel casing into place at the shaft. Every section driven into the earth brings them closer to their goal, but also raises the stakes. The deeper they go, the more dangerous and unpredictable the ground becomes.

At the money pit, Terry Matheson examines the latest core samples. The geologist has been studying the wood fragments, clay layers, and strange anomalies pulled from deep below. One recent sample showed compacted material unlike anything naturally occurring in the area, suggesting a man-made structure.

“I’ll tell you,” Terry says, holding up a piece of timber blackened by age. “This didn’t just fall here. Someone put it here a long, long time ago.”

While the digging continues, Alex Lagina and Laird Niven walk toward Lot 5, a piece of land that has been producing its own share of tantalizing finds. The archaeologists have uncovered unusual stone formations, pottery fragments, and hints of early European presence. Just last week, a hand-forged spike was found buried alongside shards of 18th-century ceramics.

The discoveries point to pre–money pit activity, perhaps even an encampment tied to the treasure’s original hiding. As they work, the sounds of American celebration float faintly through phone calls and text messages from family back home.

Marty’s grandchildren are at a lakeside picnic. Rick’s friends are lighting sparklers. But the brothers know they’re exactly where they need to be. “Some people spend their holiday watching fireworks,” Marty chuckles. “We’ll settle for finding gold.”

By midday, the team gathers for a brief meeting in the war room. The large table is covered in maps, charts, and core samples. Charles Barkhouse is already running through old records, comparing them to the most recent survey data. His meticulous notes point to overlapping tunnels in an area that hasn’t yet been drilled.

“If the archival maps are accurate,” Charles says, tapping a spot on the layout, “then this line could intersect the tunnel from the garden shaft here. That could be our direct path to the vault.”

It’s enough to light a spark in the room. Even Craig Tester, who usually plays the role of cautious realist, can’t hide a flicker of excitement. “The data lines up,” Craig admits. “If we follow that alignment, we might finally connect the dots.”

Out on the water, Jack Begley pilots a small boat toward the island’s western shore, checking on a team conducting sonar scans. For years, there have been whispers of hidden chambers beneath the bay—flood tunnels or escape routes built by whoever placed the treasure here. The sonar shows faint voids beneath the seabed, their shapes suspiciously geometric.

Jack marks the location carefully on his chart, another piece of the puzzle waiting to be solved.