As a new day of investigation begins on Oak Island, Rick takes Richard Restall off to Lot 13 to see something he has not seen for more than half a century — the remains of a small wooden cabin that he and his brother, Bobby Restall Jr., shared for six years while living on Oak Island.

Today it sits on property belonging to Tom Nolan, where it was moved to some years ago by his late father, Fred Nolan.

“Hi guys.”
“Hey guys.”
“Wow, there she is.”
“Wow, that is rough shape alright.”
“Well, sure doesn’t look the way I used it.”

“So that would be a shelf. Every battery’s below. There was a radio, which Bobby always turned the dials on.”
“The radio, sure. True. And I might have had bad music taste or something. And when I walked in, that was my bunk — because his bunk had the window.”

He was a watchman for the boat, ice, and the equipment that was stored on the beach. So the radio would play and I would read my stuff. Bobby would be writing letters or finishing his journal, and that was the sum total of our existence. That was it. It was pretty Spartan.

Living in the shack with my brother, he was — it seemed — rather strict sometimes, you know. Lights out when he said, music when he said, and so on. So, my brother was responsible for me. He was very serious about it. So he was protective — I’ll give him that.

I wonder if he would have turned into as headstrong a person as my father or my mother. And it seems sort of inevitable. But I guess we’ll never know.

[Music]

So Ricky, it was really Sue, Scott, and Doug who came up with the idea of refurbishing the cabin. It’s a little side project we don’t mind taking on.

I said, “Well, keep it as far as you can,” because there was nothing fancy about that shack. It was a toolshed when they built it, I think, and it became a residence when the whole family moved to the island.

And finding this place still sort of together is something of a miracle. Maybe 60 years — that’s a long time.

As I was listening to Ricky, it was like he was reliving the past. It harkens back to a much more innocent time on the island. They were conducting their activities as a family.

We now call ourselves an Oak Island family, so there’s a connection there. I thought it was a healing moment, but only Ricky can tell you what has transpired within his mind as he recalled these things.

All I can say, Ricky — it’s been a privilege and an honor. At the point at which we refurbish this and put it in a position to complete the story, we would ask you to please come back.

“Oh, for sure. You’re never a stranger here, remember that.”
“I’ll test out the bunks.”
“Okeydoke. Thank you.”
“Thanks, Rick.”
“Thank you, appreciate it.”
“Thank you.”
“You.”
“You.”