I’ve gone through the journals of the colony, the maps of the coast, and the accounts of the Native peoples. The most plausible story is a gradual, tragic decline—disease, starvation, conflict—leading the settlers to scatter or integrate. The single, ominous word carved into the oak—“CROATOAN”—might have been a signal that they relocated to the nearby island rather than a message of doom. It seems the mystery is less about a supernatural vanish than about a small community lost to the harsh realities of the New World. If we frame it that way, the intrigue comes from piecing together the fragments of a forgotten story, not from chasing ghosts.

You’re right—one carved word can swing an entire narrative. To avoid a wish‑fulfillment, I’d start with the island itself: dig into any surviving excavation reports, look for signs of abrupt abandonment, or layers of refuse that hint at a sudden departure. Compare those with the oral histories of the local tribes; sometimes the “hidden note” is a misread or a deliberate misdirection. If there’s anything else there, it will show up as an extra layer of artifacts or a change in settlement patterns. That’s the safest way to separate fact from the mystery’s allure.

The first odd find might be a modern piece of glass or a seed from a far‑off valley. I’ll catalogue every deviation, then trace it back to the colony’s supply chain, so if the truth is hiding in plain sight we don’t miss it.