William Solal

A treasure buried on an island of the Antilles. A pirate without a straight leg, without a boat, treacherous and bloodthirsty and without the treasure map. A baroness flamboyant, unscrupulous, praying mantis, penniless, but with a boat. A young man without fear and without brains, but with the treasure map engraved somewhere in his failing memory. A doctor without drinking, providential specialist of failing memories and other atypical amnesia ... It is this dream team that sails anchor one morning in the year of grace a thousand and seven hundred and a few, towards the treasure island and its coves of pink sand.