My first morning as a detectorist had been a frustrating one. Sweeping the rocks and silt of Hessle Foreshore is not without its charms, even on a unsettled morning in late March, but with the tide ...

"I'm a natural," I think, with unbearable smugness. "A bona fide detectorist!" I peer at the ground in anticipation as my companion, metal detecting guru Andy Sampson, cuts a square hole with a sturdy ...