The excavators of the steamship Arabia in a Kansas cornfield. (Arabia Steamboat Museum)

A long-lost ship discovered in a Kansas cornfield may sound like fantasy, but not only did it happen, the ship's excavation has become the focus of pending legislation by the state of Missouri.

Treasure hunter Greg Hawley and his partners found the Steamboat Arabia in a cornfield in 1987, more than 130 years after it sank in the Missouri River. A medium-sized ship, the Arabia stretched 172 feet in length and could carry 222 tons of cargo. The vessel was heavily laden with passengers and freight the day it snagged on a tree submerged in the river. Its 130 passengers escaped, but its freight sank.

Over time, the Missouri River changed course, and the swirling waters had deposited mud and dirt over the Arabia's final resting place. The ship disappeared from sight. Eventually, farmers started tilling the layers of soil above it. The Arabia existed only in legend, and that mystery tantalized Hawley and his family, who teamed with another friend to find and raise the vessel. After the excavation, they displayed the cargo in what is now the Arabia Steamboat Museum in Kansas City, Mo.

"There were thousands of dishes and bottles and the necessities of life," Hawley says. "Pickles, sardines, long underwear—and we could still read the prices written in ink."

The private museum exists as a microcosm of everyday life in the year 1856, when the steamship sank. Hawley says the business is more efficient than most government-run museums because it's not hampered by tons of red tape and bureaucracy. And that is why a bill currently in front of the Missouri state legislature concerns him.

The bill, introduced last month by Rep. Barbara Fraser (D), would roll out several changes in the way non-archaeologists hunt for buried steamboats. In addition to higher permit fees, they would be required to hire an archaeologist with specific training in maritime research to oversee their projects. If passed, the bill would become law in August.

Hawley doesn't mind working with archaeologists. On the contrary, archaeologists have been involved with the Arabia since it was discovered, but he's concerned the additional requirements will raise both the cost of excavation and the level of bureaucracy. "The bill, as it's written, is too restrictive." Hawley says. "It could take six months, 20 years, 50 years [to excavate], and if they think we're not caring for the collection properly, [the government] can seize it."

Divers on a protected St. Lawrence Seaway wreck (Howie Motenko)

Is it reasonable to require government oversight of a project with historical significance? Jim Bruseth, director of archaeology for the Texas Historical Commission in Austin, thinks so. Bruseth directed and then wrote a book about the excavation of the Belle, which carried French explorer Robert Cavalier, Sieur de La Salle, to the Gulf Coast of Texas in 1686. Bruseth says such projects are best run by professionals.

"You don't start until you have your plan in place," Bruseth says. "If you're fighting time, you use more people."

Many amateurs volunteered to work on the Belle excavation, and their work was appreciated, Bruseth says. But he favors government control because amateurs often are not aware of what they have found, artifacts can be damaged or scattered, and the provenance of these items can be lost if excavators fail to recognize their significance. Bruseth also believes artifacts should never be sold to private citizens.

"It sickens me to see collections broken up and sold to the public," Bruseth says.

Greg Stemm, co-founder of Florida's Odyssey Marine Exploration, Inc., says the public makes an excellent custodian of history. Stemm, whose company is currently working with the government of the U.K. to bring up the 1694 British warship Sussex, says private companies like his accomplish what the government doesn't have the time or resources to do—find wrecks and salvage artifacts.

"Who is to say the public isn't as good a curator of a collection as anyone else?" Stemm asks. His company, he says, "always goes in with a plan and always uses an archaeologist."

Museums contain objects that were once common in everyday life, and it's likely that many would not have survived if it had not been for ordinary people collecting them.

David Moore, a nautical archaeologist and curator of nautical artifacts at the North Carolina Maritime Museum, Beaufort, N.C., says he understands both sides. "I've worked with treasure-hunters and archaeologists, and it's not as black-and-white an issue as most would like to think," Moore says.

The haphazard techniques some treasure hunters employ lead to artifact degradation, but museums often own such a surplus of exhibit material that much of it is stored and forgotten, often degenerating. But undiscovered shipwrecks aren't stored in boxes in museum basements; they're at the bottoms of rivers and oceans. Excavations of shipwrecks in U.S. coastal waters fall under federal regulations, but each state makes its own rules concerning shipwrecks in public rivers, lakes, and other waterways. Buried ships—which aren't as rare as one might think—often are found on private land.

On the trail of two additional buried steamboats, Hawley hopes his efforts will eventually lead his team to another spectacular find and subsequent excavation. If the state passes stronger mandates, though, Hawley isn't sure he'll move forward. It may not be worth the trouble.

And that, says Moore, is part of the dilemma facing the archaeological community. While everyone's fighting over project control, he says, "these wrecks just continue to deteriorate."

Carole Moore is a freelance writer living in North Carolina.

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