Yesterday, you may recall, we went down to the Shoalhaven River in the rain and while observing the rising flood, cast a desultory eye about for a chance gold nugget or two. It turns out there’s a name for this activity. And that name is ‘fossicking’. I love this word – it seems just right for the actions it describes: a squirrel-like scrabbling about.
I’ve used it for years without really understanding its origins, so it’s really quite interesting to find out that fossicking refers specifically to prospecting for precious metals or stones – particularly as a leisure activity. Unless you’re fossicking for opals – then the correct term is noodling.
It comes from Cornwall – tin-mining country – and is still used there, as well as in Australia and New Zealand. Presumably the word travelled with the Cornish immigrants who showed up on these shores, keen to put their skills to work in promising new surroundings. So thanks to those intrepid Cornishmen and women for bringing us this word – and their delicious pasties. And Captain Bligh, who became Governor of New South Wales having survived the mutiny on the Bounty.
In New South Wales, the word fossicking has even entered the lexicon of Aussie officialdom: as you see here, it’s possible to obtain a fossicking permit to go after the shiny stuff in state forest reserves. The guidelines also add the key information that only hand implements are to be used – nothing powered by motors or hydraulics and, disappointingly, no explosives.
The key detail here, though, is that if you comply with all the rules and have a valid licence, you can keep the proceeds of your fossicking on state forest land – subject to certain quite generous weight limits. Or if you’re a landowner, every morsel of gold (or other valuable metal or mineral) belongs to you. It would be silly not to try, don’t you think?
Or there are guided tours with an experienced fossicker, which I guess would have the benefit of the guide’s knowledge of where and how to look. But why would you apply that fossicking know-how to helping other people find gold? If it’s because the guiding game is more profitable, then your guide knows there ain’t much gold to be found on tour, I’m betting.
Anyway, in those few minutes’ idle fossicking on the Shoalhaven yesterday, it crossed my mind that a fat nugget of, say, half a kilo, would do a lot to bolster the family’s ailing finances. The gold price has been hitting record highs recently – it always does when the world careers toward crisis and investors put their funds into a secure store of value which can be easily liquidated, so now would be a good time.
And of course, it would be an opportunity to do the Prospectors Dance.
In preparation for the possibility of some fossicking in our future, I googled how to monetise the nuggets we’re sure to find, imagining a solemn functionary with a set of scales in a poky government office – only to find that you can do it all online via eBay. It’s mildly amusing to see these listed as ‘used’.
So we’ve moved on a little from speculating about whether the frequent rainbows around Braidwood mean pots of gold to be had wherever they terminate — now there’s a chance to become a fossicker on a small farm not far from here. Let’s hope the rains have deposited a few goodly lumps of the stuff in easily accessible places — Corner Cottage needs new wardrobes and daddy wants a ute. Is that really too much to ask?
