Answer:
the gold shone blindingly under the glare of the sun, the man wiped his brow, his chest heaving with effort, hi breaht coming out in short, sharp, waves. he stood otherwise frozen in awe, jaw slightly dropped and eyes as wide as saucepans, tentatively he ran his hands over the coins, as if afraid he was dreaming, his eyes lit up in relief as the coolness from the gold seeped through him. he ran his hands along the sturdy frame of the treasure chest, mapping out the intricate carvings on the dark oak. the large buckles rusted and old, hanging on by a thread to the barnacles which littered he box.
the man pulled out his flask, congratulating himself on the discovery, his voice lost in the expanse of ocean surrounding him, he took a long gulp, savouring the cold water as it hit his mouth. he cast his eyes out to sea- desolate and empty, he was the only soul for miles, he was unable to stop the grin which creeped onto his lips. the sun beat down softly as he began to drag the chest of riches out of the hole.
the box made deep carvings in the damp sand, forming a makeshift trail as he heaved it back to his boat. with great effort the man finally got it onto the ship, he let out a whoop of victory, the blue sea shimmered gently in applause. the man cast one final look on the island and chuckled softly. he threw the map back into the ocean and thanked the sky for the pirate who made it. the man thought back on just months earlier, the glass bottle with a tattered map inside, its edges curling with age. the type of thing you only read in fairy tails. and yet, something made him look twice, something told him to go those miles to find it, so he had fuelled the childlike imagination within himself and he thanked the mysterious writer of the map every day.
not grammar checked