Every story has a beginning X

Hi, followers of Hyperborea Exists. I’m back to bring you the final chapter in ‘Every story has a beginning’. In my last post I left off just when we had retrieved Barracuda 1 and the Draupnir Disc.

Draupnir Ring representation from Nordic Mythology.

I have to admit, the journey home was something of a nightmare due to the bad weather. As soon as the Draupnir Disc was in our hands we put it in an aqueous solution to replicate the conditions inside the Niflheim Cave. The boat lurched from side to side as it was struck by powerful waves. We were all extremely tense. On more than one occasion we thought that our expedition might end in tragedy.

After several days at sea we finally reached port in one piece. And even more importantly, our archaeological treasure was in good condition. What we certainly couldn’t have imagined was that our return would be stormier than the return journey aboard the Ice Dawn.

We were two days behind schedule due to the time we had spent retrieving the Draupnir Disc. Our superiors at the NTNU were furious because they had promised that we would be available for another project but we hadn’t returned on time. I wish I could say that once we had described our finding they softened and turned their full attention on our project, offering us all their resources.

But it wasn’t like that. Olve, Geir and I received a formal warning and were threatened with being expelled by the institution if we committed any further infractions. Our superiors and colleagues were now highly suspicious of us and did everything they could to exclude us for not having followed their instructions to the letter. You can guess what the best way of attacking us was... Ignoring and scorning our research into the Draupnir Disc and Odin’s Keel.

You must be wondering what happened to the Draupnir Disc. From the moment we received our warning, we were weighed down with endless bureaucracy and paperwork, ensuring that we didn’t have a second free for our research. Even so, we managed to study it whenever we could, even if it meant losing sleep. It was a long and tedious process but we could still call on a few friends to help us. What we now call the Draupnir Disc was then just a rocky surface in very poor condition. It required several chemical and restoration processes to clear away all the sediment that had built up over the years and reveal the artefact that lay beneath.

I can’t put into words what we felt the day we finally saw what our great treasure truly looked like, two years after we had retrieved it from the Niflheim Cave. I imagine it was the same as the first archaeologists felt when they discovered the Egyptian pyramids and their hieroglyphics. What we had before us had once been a beautiful, refined disc made from a bluish metal and decorated with symbols, ancient runes that we couldn’t decipher. Most surprising of all, it wasn’t one solid piece but consisted of several concentric circles that looked as though they once moved to form new symbols.

The craftsmanship was indescribable, even for our times. Some of the runes were microscopic in size. Each inner circle was smaller and more refined than the last. Restoring it would be a Herculean task, if not impossible. It was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the greatest archaeological discoveries ever made. You can already guess what the carbon dating test results revealed... They were identical to the results of Odin’s Keel: out of range.

CGI (Computer Generated Image) enlarged from the inner circles of the Draupnir Disk. This was one of the first captures we made of the disk. Already in this stage of the initial restauration you could glimpse a part of the symbols. 

In normal circumstances, we would have shared our discovery with the scientific community, requested research funds and revealed what we had found to the world. But we were in a highly precarious position. We were worried about being rejected again and taken off the research project. So we decided to take the long way round and chose to be patient. It would take longer, but would ultimately provide us with concrete, irrefutable results.

We knew that the artefact was unique but still had no idea where it came from or its function. We couldn’t understand the symbols or how they worked. Nor did we have any data on Odin’s Keel or the shipwreck. Who could have made it? So we decided to hide what we had discovered and pretend that we were carrying on with our everyday work, while actually carrying out unofficial research in our free time. That way we hoped to win back the trust of our colleagues and superiors. And of course, to discover what lay behind our mysterious findings.

Over the next few years we set aside time every summer to perform new dives in the area. And that was how we finally approached the area around the island of Jan Mayen. We had run simulations that recreated ocean currents from 60,000 years ago and they all led to this area of the Atlantic Ocean. But it wasn’t enough. We needed to find more pieces of the puzzle. I can’t begin to count the hours I spent studying the symbols decorating the Draupnir Disc. Everything indicated that it used a runic system far more ancient that anything that had been seen before.

It was a compositional system: you moved the various inner discs to form different signs. But I had no idea what the real combination was. After several months trying different combinations there was just one that created a familiar-looking symbol. An X with a rhombus on either side.  It was too much of a coincidence. There was already an identical composite rune known as ‘ gar’. The gar rune meant ‘spear’ and was known by some experts in runic writings as the rune of the god Odin. I must admit that I’ve been obsessed with it ever since, feverish to discover the potential implications of the artefact. But it’s still too soon to make any pronouncements.

Gar Rune. It is a composite rune and means "Spear". For many researchers is considered as the symbol that represents the Nordic God, Odin, The Great Father.

This discovery spurred me on and encouraged me not to give up. But it was just an oasis in a desert of uncertainty because I still didn’t know what the rune meant or the purpose of the Draupnir Disc. I only began to guess at its function three years ago. I had been working until the early hours and had lain down on my bed, exhausted. The television was on and was showing a documentary about the first Spanish and Portuguese navigators. And that was what set off a spark in my head. What if the disc was something more than an alphabetic rune, as I had thought up until now? What if it were a type of navigation map, like a system that showed the position of the stars? As the days went by, the idea grew, making more and more sense. Olve and Geir agreed with me. What was more, they even suggested that perhaps it showed position coordinates, like a type of archaic GPS. But that went beyond even our wildest expectations.

However, we still didn’t know what the composite runes meant, except for Odin’s rune. We were missing something... A guide that would help us understand the runic language. Like the Rosetta stone had been for Egyptian hieroglyphics. And that was exactly what we found this summer on the ocean floor along the coastline of Jan Mayen. The missing piece that could be used to understand and decipher the Draupnir Disc. Thanks to this new find, we have spent the past few months carefully studying its symbols and establishing coordinates. The location of the place where we believe that Odin’s Keel may have been based. Built by a civilization that precedes anything known to humanity so far. A civilization with unimaginable knowledge and technology for its age, technology that we still don’t understand...

Roseta Stone. It contains a decree from year 196 B.C. by Egiptian priests written in Greek and Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Dear friends, followers of Hyperborea Exists, in a few weeks’ time the truth will be revealed. We have gathered all the information possible, all the evidence that backs up our research, and are going to present it before the Norwegian government’s Scientific Commission. Once it learns about our work, we hope to achieve the funding we need. We will spend the grant on an expedition to the coordinates we’ve unveiled, a point in the Atlantic Ocean. Once there, we hope to discover archaeological remains that provide the existence of what was once known as Hyperborea.

And that brings this series to a close. The next blog posts will cover our presentation and, I hope, its success. We are going to need all the support we can get. Ahead lies the glory of making the greatest archaeological discovery in the history of humanity. Pay attention because soon, very soon, I hope to be able to reveal the secrets of the Hyperborean civilization.

Every story has a beginning VI

It’s been a while since my last update. It’s no excuse for keeping you hanging for so long, but things have picked up pace in the last few weeks. It looks like May will be the big month, when we will present our research to the commission and can request a grant to complete it. The final date is yet to be confirmed, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can. Once we’ve presented our work, along with the evidence that we’ve gathered over the years, I’ll finally be able to share everything with you. I can’t wait for you to join me on our journey of discovery. But before that, I’d like to continue the story of how all this began.

Main building of the NTNU complex

As I described in the last post of Hyperborea Exists, our expedition for Nordic Communications returned on 12 July 2000. We flew back from Iceland, leaving the Blue Sea behind where it would be moored for maintenance. We went to the NTNU in Trondheim, bringing the remains we had discovered with us in carefully sealed containers to prevent environmental contamination. As I explained earlier, there had only been a small microscope on board the Blue Sea. We hoped that our specialist colleagues at the NTNU would be able to unearth some clues about the type of wreck we had found and its age.

There were two particular samples that interested us: one was a strange metal and the other a type of reinforced wood that we had never seen before. Both contained rock and fossilized materials. We hoped to find some type of organic fossilized matter that could be used to run carbon dating tests and discover the precise age of the remains.

In case you aren’t aware, there are two main methods for discovering the age of a sample. The first is carbon-14 dating, which can only be used on organic compounds or the ones containing carbon. The second is potassium-argon dating, but unfortunately this is only useful in areas close to a volcanic eruption.

The NTNU laboratory set to work on the wood fragment we brought back from our expedition. First, it had to be treated. This is a highly complex and laborious process; great care must be taken to ensure the sample isn’t contaminated. The slightest error can change the results of a carbon dating test, invalidating it. We therefore took the utmost care to follow every protocol; the sample was in one piece and untampered when the carbon dating test was run.

If you would like to read more about carbon dating tests, here is a brief description from Wikipedia:

   “Radiocarbon dating is the most reliable isotope-based technique for determining the age of organic samples that are less than 60,000 years old. It is based on the law of exponential decay of radioactive isotopes. Carbon-14 isotope (14C) is continuously produced in the atmosphere as a result of nitrogen atoms being bombarded by cosmic neutrons. The isotope created is unstable and therefore spontaneously transmutes into nitrogen-14 (14N). The processes of generation and decay of 14C are practically balanced so that the isotope is homogeneously mixed with non-radioactive atoms among the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Photosynthesis incorporates the radioactive atoms into plants so that the proportion of 14C-12C in these plants is similar to that of the atmosphere. Animals ingest carbon from plants. When a living organism dies, no new 14C atoms are incorporated into the tissue and the isotope concentration starts to decrease as it converts into 14N by radioactive decay.

   The mass of isotope 14C in any species decays exponentially: 5,730 years after the death of a living being, the amount of 14C in its remains halves. Therefore, when the amount of radioactivity in an organic sample is measured, the amount of 14C still remaining in the material can be calculated. This information is used to determine the moment when the organism died. This is known as its ‘radiocarbon age’ or ‘14C’ age’ and is expressed in years BP (Before Present). This scale matches the number of years since the death of the sample up to 1950 in our calendar. This date was chosen as the reference year partly by agreement and also because in the second half of the 20th century, nuclear testing led to severe anomalies in relative concentration curves of radioactive isotopes in the atmosphere.

Infographic that explains the dating process by Carbon-14

 When the theoretical concentration of 14C was compared with wood samples with known ages via dendrochronology, the results were different from those expected. These differences were due to the fact that the concentration of radiocarbon in the atmosphere has also changed over time. Today it is possible to work out precisely (margin of error: 1-10 years) the evolution of 14C concentration over the past 15,000 years. Age estimates can therefore be corrected by comparing them with curves obtained by interpolating known data. The resulting age is known as the ‘calibrated age’ and is expressed in years Cal BP.”

While we waited for the results, we focused on the metal sample we had managed to extract from the remains. We were definitely dealing with an alloy that had never been found in any shipwreck or archaeological site before. We called various metal experts and they all agreed: it was entirely unknown. Further tests would be needed with a spectrometer to determine its exact composition. All we knew for sure was that it was a hard, resistant metal. The truth was that the more we tried to study the sample in depth, the more confused we became.

On one hand we were convinced that it must be truly ancient, between a thousand and two thousand years old. On the other, the metal was too complex. It couldn’t have been made using the technology available two thousand years ago. Not even with the techniques that existed a few centuries ago. We didn’t know what to think. Had we found the remains of an ancient Viking Drakkar, or something far more modern that had us barking up the wrong tree?

Carousel of samples for Carbon-14 dating.

Our hopes rested on the results of the carbon dating test. When the results came through, they left us reeling. As I explained above, carbon-14 dating is used to determine the age of organic substances that are up to 60,000 years old. It includes a specific error margin and a way of compensating for this error. Well, the problem with the results was that our sample appeared to be approximately 60,000 years old. It was at the limit of the analysable range. We asked them to repeat the test but laboratory confirmed that they it had already been run three times. There were no mistakes.

Was this one of the most important archaeological finds in history? The implications were mind-blowing. Or was it just a mistake? Or some kind of joke? One thing was certain. Our superiors at the NTNU were going to be highly sceptical of our findings. But I’ll share that part of the story with you in my next update. I’ll write again very soon.

Thanks again for your on-going support. We’re getting closer and closer to revealing the truth. All I ask is that you have a little more patience. I can’t wait to share all my material with you and I promise I will as soon as the time comes. Followers of Hyperborea Exists, I’ll be back soon.