Love of Prospecting

Birth Of The Mineral Bug

As a wee lad growing up in a small coastal community of Newfoundland, I developed an almost excessive need to learn. Just about everything I encountered raised questions, questions that would not go away, perhaps leading too much stimulation of my brain neurons. Numerous subjects captured my attention, topics that included the ocean, fish and mammals, biology, engines, board games, history, political strategy, geology, economics and navigation made the list over and over along with numerous others; some sparked by discussions, or  by reading, others from watching a movie or even newscasts. Many of the things that tweaked my interest came about from listening to the yarns and opinions of the older community members.  

I am sure that many of my family members and friends couldn’t help but sometimes consider me as a busy body type. A youngster always asking questions which generally lead to my asking more questions, questions requiring answers even references. Often if answers were not readily available, I would start asking who else I should talk to on the subject or what books I should borrow or who they thought had such a book. Yep I was a like sponge always wanting to get wet with knowledge. If the internet was available to me back then, my parents would have had a large monthly bill for service and the commodore 64 would have suffered an information overload.

One of the most enduring of my favorite topics of interest was and is minerals. While growing up, if I encountered a name of a mineral I didn’t know about, I had to find a way see what it looked like, I had to know where to find it, determine how to find it or if I could find it. Finding a different and interesting rock created a sense of wonder and triggered neuron excitement in my brain. 

Climbing rock cliffs and digging holes seemed to be a perfect fit with my desire for adventure and love of being outdoors. Chasing pretty rocks with the hope of finding something special provided me with opportunity to do something that captured my interest while being in a setting that I desired. Being in a boat and learning to fish was also important to quenching my knowledge thirst, yet climbing the rocks with the idea of exploring for treasure, either buried by man or contained in the rock,  captivated me.

Many of the first rocks I looked under, around and over where in beaches along on the seashore, plain old beach rock as far as a young boy could see. Beaches with near miles of rock, that today I know as being granite mixed with broken and sea rounded pieces of gabbro.  But back then the glimpse of a piece of common quartz discovered among all the other rocks represented a hidden treasure, a treasure to be obtained, an exciting find that had to be carried back home and guarded.

My mother, whom thought me much more than she takes credit for, cleaned the dirt from my hands, mended the rips in my pants and listened as the “less important” rocks from my pockets that often bounced around in the washing machine. I can only guess how often she worried where the boys and I were headed next or if we would pay attention and look after ourselves.

One day I gathered while listening to the local tales and yarns, the location of Catalina stone, more commonly known as fool’s gold. To this day I cannot remember hearing the word fool’s being said, my young brain only registered the word gold and the quest was on. Armed with the name of the cove that it was supposed to be hidden in, a potato sack and a hammer I set out to find the holy grail of pretty rocks, with visions of yellow nuggets that would fill my pockets.

I got there in quick order and began my search. After walking around a point of land I found the mother lode, in a vein between two little points of rock. There they were nice big square chunks of yellow colored minerals, which I started beating out of the vein and putting in the sack. It was heavy and shiny and plentiful, I filled the sack, yet I couldn’t carry it and had to hide some to lighten the load.  My thoughts were focused; that a new bike and even my own boat were now mine to be had. I gathered my pretty rocks in my sack then headed home smiling.

Upon getting home I felt the burning need to reveal to everyone and anybody the discovery that I had made. I now had the knowledge and the proof that would win me fame and fortune. Well almost, I did have near 30 lbs of pyrite or fool’s gold. Some of them laughed, two didn’t, and one even told me to keep looking and later thought me the importance of examining rocks that stand out and are different.

Prospecting For A Living

That lesson is still important to me today. On any prospecting trip I now take my most important objective is to still to look for the different rocks. I still examine pyrites today, some of which have delivered me gold, gold hidden in the minuscule fractures within the pyrite and other finds have lead me to copper, nickel and other minerals.

Finding a structure or vein that is different than the surrounding rock is the basis of prospecting. Many mineral deposits and great mines owe their discovery to the curiosity of a prospector.  The world-class Hemlo gold deposit in Canada is an example of good prospecting efforts.

Today we use many advanced tools and instrumentation in our search for the next deposit.  These tools add much to our arsenal and help guide us into the right areas. Yet prospectors still continue to “hands on” examine pretty rocks and find strange uncommon occurrences in the field that are sometimes not supposed to be there.  We even get to put samples in a sack that sometimes result in mineral discoveries.