I love dogs - big dogs, not those handbag ones which you can shoot out of a cannon (and probably should ;-). I grew up with Labradors and would love having one now. But, I live in a flat and am away from home quite often. I wouldn't be able to have a dog except if I could walk it every day, take it with me on holiday and give it a nice big garden to play in.
Apparently, it's good for one's emotional well-being to have a pet. So after little consideration I decided to get a hamster. Why? Because I was on holiday and my hairdresser had the cutest dwarf hamster. As I mentioned, very little consideration :-). I did the research (which means buying a tiny book on hamsters) and headed to the pet shop. I picked out the cage with all the tunnels and some extra toys. I've never had small furry animals as pets while I was growing up so this whole experience was hilarious. At the pet shop, while the owner was getting the hamster, I asked for a female and he hesitated. I assumed he thought I was being silly - what does the gender matter.
I took Buttercup home (named after my favourite Powerpuff Girl) and get her all sorted in her new home. After a week, I notice she's fat, but not like eating too much fat, more like wider and slow. Since I've done my research I realize that she's pregnant! That's why the pet shop dude hesitated - he probably knew he was losing more than one hamster.
Now I have all the Powerpuff Girls and they're hilariously cute. I must admit that my emotional well-being has taken a turn for the better. Pets really put things in perspective. After a day of some miner complaining that geology is always at fault and other managers agreeing, I come home and see Buttercup running around just being content with enough food and a little house. How can I still be angry or upset at some silly things at work?
I heard this just after I got my hamster(s) and couldn't stop laughing:
Dude 1: "I wasn't drunk!"
Dude 2: "You were so drunk you threw my hamster across the room and yelled - Pikachu I choose you!"
Here I share my experiences of working as a coal geologist across the world. I also share what's currently catching my attention from the latest book to the weirdest webcomic.
Showing posts with label wildlife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wildlife. Show all posts
Sunday, 3 July 2011
Saturday, 16 April 2011
Sheep in Motion
At the end of last year's winter, around August, I was doing exploration work in earnest. This was to increase our confidence in the geology surrounding the shaft area for the new underground mine. It was quite cold on some days and I learned to work standing sideways to avoid the wind.
The one borehole I logged was in a farmer's field of corn (mielies in Afrikaans). To get to the farm, you had to open a very stubborn gate made of wire and wooden poles. The catch was a piece of wood and wire under tension. If you let go of the catch at the wrong time, the wood would snap back and give you one hell of a black eye. It's friggin' hilarious for everyone but you :-). The borehole was at the edge of the field which had already been ploughed. It was covered in leftover corn stalk pieces and there were lots of sheep - mostly ewes and lambs. The sheep were grazing lazily, but were very annoying with their constant bleating. I wouldn't have minded if the bleating had some kind of harmony or rhythm, but each sheep had its own pitch and bleated randomly. I struggled at first to concentrate, but later just blocked it out.
It was a particularly hot day and every now and then a mini-twister would blow across the field. It was amazing to see this swirling mass of air, some as high as 6 metres, pick up dust and corn stalks and dance over the ground. Such a surreal experience. One of the smaller twisters ran right through a herd of sheep and they were not happy. I suddenly remembered that scene from Wizard of Oz where all the animals and people were floating past the house and couldn't stop laughing.
The best moment, however, happened almost in slow motion. An ewe to the left of me started bleating something fierce and was answered by a tiny lamb quite far away on my right. They started running towards one another and kept on bleating. It was like a scene from a movie where the mother and child are reunited after some tragic event. The sheep raced towards each other and they both stopped bleating once the ewe lovingly nudged the lamb. It was quite touching and supremely funny.
And, I disagree with the recent studies which found that extensive exposure to exploration geology can cause delusions and severe cases of outdoor fever (the opposite of cabin fever but with similar effects :-).
The one borehole I logged was in a farmer's field of corn (mielies in Afrikaans). To get to the farm, you had to open a very stubborn gate made of wire and wooden poles. The catch was a piece of wood and wire under tension. If you let go of the catch at the wrong time, the wood would snap back and give you one hell of a black eye. It's friggin' hilarious for everyone but you :-). The borehole was at the edge of the field which had already been ploughed. It was covered in leftover corn stalk pieces and there were lots of sheep - mostly ewes and lambs. The sheep were grazing lazily, but were very annoying with their constant bleating. I wouldn't have minded if the bleating had some kind of harmony or rhythm, but each sheep had its own pitch and bleated randomly. I struggled at first to concentrate, but later just blocked it out.
It was a particularly hot day and every now and then a mini-twister would blow across the field. It was amazing to see this swirling mass of air, some as high as 6 metres, pick up dust and corn stalks and dance over the ground. Such a surreal experience. One of the smaller twisters ran right through a herd of sheep and they were not happy. I suddenly remembered that scene from Wizard of Oz where all the animals and people were floating past the house and couldn't stop laughing.
The best moment, however, happened almost in slow motion. An ewe to the left of me started bleating something fierce and was answered by a tiny lamb quite far away on my right. They started running towards one another and kept on bleating. It was like a scene from a movie where the mother and child are reunited after some tragic event. The sheep raced towards each other and they both stopped bleating once the ewe lovingly nudged the lamb. It was quite touching and supremely funny.
And, I disagree with the recent studies which found that extensive exposure to exploration geology can cause delusions and severe cases of outdoor fever (the opposite of cabin fever but with similar effects :-).
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Buffalo and Lizards
The above title is not an euphemism for some of my work colleagues, although I sympathize for those of you to whom this might apply.
In 2009, I was in the Limpopo Province (South Africa) learning what it means to be an exploration geologist. Exploration geology's main purpose is to determine where and how big the mineral deposit is in an entirely new area. In my case, I was looking for coal. The area is well-known for it's coal reserves and when I joined the project, further and more detailed drilling was being done. The project area was more than an hour's drive from the closest town and on farmland. The farms were mostly game farms and it was always tricky to arrange drilling without interfering with the owner's hunting activities. But, none of the geologists wanted to get shot, so any drilling was planned down to the last detail.
My day consisted of driving between 1 and 2 hours to the field in a 4-by-4 bakkie (truck) filled with equipment, lunch and water. Limpopo is hot. You get SPF 30 sunblock, SPF 50 sunblock and then SPF what-the-hell-are-you-doing-in-Limpopo sunblock. I had to manage the drilling teams and make sure they kept to the rules we had agreed on with the farmer (i.e. no fires, rehabilitate the area and so on.) The drilling rigs were drilling thick diameter vertical core boreholes which were also logged geophysically. My main job was to log the boreholes - describe all the rock types and characteristics and at what depths they were found. Logging on game farms has its perks. I saw giraffes, many different kinds of buck, buffalo, rhino and on one occasion a group of big cats which might have been leopards. The downside is that some of the game can be dangerous. Very dangerous if you believe all the stories that the farmers tell you. Buffalo has been known to circle around hunters and charge them from behind.
I was alone on the farm one Friday since the drilling team had taken off for their long weekend. There was no cell phone reception, except under a specific tree on the project team's farmhouse a few kilometres away. I had a radio which kept me in contact with our main office in town, but it was quiet on the farm's dirt roads. To prevent rain and animals from disturbing the core, black plastic sheeting is put over the 10 m rows of rock core. The first surprise came when I was taking the plastic off - a huge lizard about 60 cm long with an equally long tail was napping between the core. Before I could scream like a little girl, it waddled off surprisingly quickly into the bush. After that, I always struck the plastic or shook it a bit before I lifted it. I logged the borehole as usual and took a break around lunch to sit on the back of the bakkie under a tree's shade and eat a sandwich. That's when I noticed something coming down the sandy road toward toward me. It was quite far, but after a few minutes I realized it was a buffalo. Cool, was my first thought and then, damn. I started remembering all the war stories about hunting buffalo that some of the farmers had told me. I had visions of an enraged animal charging and overthrowing the bakkie with me inside. I finished my sandwich and calmly tried to get back to the logging. But, every few minutes I would glance down the road and check the buffalo's progress. It kept moving closer. I then climbed on the bakkie and planned an exit strategy. Running into the bush would be counter-productive since I would probably stumble over a snake who acted first and asked questions later. I had just thought of a revolutionary plan of simply driving away when I looked up and noticed that my buffalo had disappeared. Grinning like an idiot I had carried on logging.
Further wildlife warnings will be shared soon! Stay tuned for the dangers of listening days on end to bleating sheep and how to avoid getting hypnotized by unblinking cows. :-)
In 2009, I was in the Limpopo Province (South Africa) learning what it means to be an exploration geologist. Exploration geology's main purpose is to determine where and how big the mineral deposit is in an entirely new area. In my case, I was looking for coal. The area is well-known for it's coal reserves and when I joined the project, further and more detailed drilling was being done. The project area was more than an hour's drive from the closest town and on farmland. The farms were mostly game farms and it was always tricky to arrange drilling without interfering with the owner's hunting activities. But, none of the geologists wanted to get shot, so any drilling was planned down to the last detail.
My day consisted of driving between 1 and 2 hours to the field in a 4-by-4 bakkie (truck) filled with equipment, lunch and water. Limpopo is hot. You get SPF 30 sunblock, SPF 50 sunblock and then SPF what-the-hell-are-you-doing-in-Limpopo sunblock. I had to manage the drilling teams and make sure they kept to the rules we had agreed on with the farmer (i.e. no fires, rehabilitate the area and so on.) The drilling rigs were drilling thick diameter vertical core boreholes which were also logged geophysically. My main job was to log the boreholes - describe all the rock types and characteristics and at what depths they were found. Logging on game farms has its perks. I saw giraffes, many different kinds of buck, buffalo, rhino and on one occasion a group of big cats which might have been leopards. The downside is that some of the game can be dangerous. Very dangerous if you believe all the stories that the farmers tell you. Buffalo has been known to circle around hunters and charge them from behind.
I was alone on the farm one Friday since the drilling team had taken off for their long weekend. There was no cell phone reception, except under a specific tree on the project team's farmhouse a few kilometres away. I had a radio which kept me in contact with our main office in town, but it was quiet on the farm's dirt roads. To prevent rain and animals from disturbing the core, black plastic sheeting is put over the 10 m rows of rock core. The first surprise came when I was taking the plastic off - a huge lizard about 60 cm long with an equally long tail was napping between the core. Before I could scream like a little girl, it waddled off surprisingly quickly into the bush. After that, I always struck the plastic or shook it a bit before I lifted it. I logged the borehole as usual and took a break around lunch to sit on the back of the bakkie under a tree's shade and eat a sandwich. That's when I noticed something coming down the sandy road toward toward me. It was quite far, but after a few minutes I realized it was a buffalo. Cool, was my first thought and then, damn. I started remembering all the war stories about hunting buffalo that some of the farmers had told me. I had visions of an enraged animal charging and overthrowing the bakkie with me inside. I finished my sandwich and calmly tried to get back to the logging. But, every few minutes I would glance down the road and check the buffalo's progress. It kept moving closer. I then climbed on the bakkie and planned an exit strategy. Running into the bush would be counter-productive since I would probably stumble over a snake who acted first and asked questions later. I had just thought of a revolutionary plan of simply driving away when I looked up and noticed that my buffalo had disappeared. Grinning like an idiot I had carried on logging.
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| One of the few rainy days in the field |
I enjoyed working in the field for that year. It was great being outdoors and in the bush and experiencing all the wildlife. I had one or two close encounters with poisonous snakes, but I survived my stint as an exploration geologist. I realized that as much as I enjoyed it, I would rather be at the mine where I work with more people and do short- and long-term planning jobs.
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