Chapter 18. Having Latitude of Movement; and Knowing Who’s The Boss
Simon Tyler’s stating a false destination was something that came naturally to him, especially where the police were concerned. It allowed him latitude of movement (he believed) and made him feel in control. If queried later he would claim changed circumstances and lay the seeds of further false trails and intentions.
On reaching the northern end of the Jervois Range escarpments he stopped in the shade of an overhanging tree. Their GPS position was checked then he took his geological map from the dash and unrolled it on the bonnet. Co-ordinates were noted and distances estimated and the map was rolled up again. Back behind the wheel Tyler drove another half kilometre, then turned from the road and headed cross-country.
Fifteen minutes’ slow going through rough spinifex country and drainage channels brought the pair to a low isolated ridge, a chewed-up looking outcrop of sedimentary origins. It averaged four to six metres in height over a length of some three hundred metres.
Tyler parked in the shade of a bloodwood tree a short distance from the hill’s northern extremity, then took his geopick from under the seat and went to the Cruiser’s rear for their radiation detector – a hand-held scintillometer in a padded shoulder bag. As he walked off towards the nearest end of the ridge he switched it on and adjusted its sensitivity and volume levels. Watts went to the fridge for the drinks and sandwiches he’d packed earlier.
Once at the ridge Tyler began checking the geology, stopping occasional to crack a rock, the instrument muttering quietly to itself as he worked his way upward. Watts came along behind, cracking a rock or two as well.
On reaching the top Tyler came to a gnarled little ghost gum and sat in its shade to have lunch. Watts handed Tyler a fruit juice and sandwich pack then sat down as well.
“So what do you reckon, boss?” he asked as he peeled the cling-wrap from his sandwiches. “Is this the right sort of formation?” He took a sandwich and bit into it.
Tyler was trying to find the start point of his own parcel’s wrapping. “…Well it certainly has promise, Mister Watts,” he said distractedly. “According to the map, however … there are two similar features in the vicinity. It would be prudent to … check those as well.” Suddenly he gave up looking for an end and tore the pack open. “Hopefully one of the three should be interesting enough to warrant our further attention.”
He bit into a sandwich and chewed for a while. “We have no reason to rush though,” he added eventually. “The business here will require careful consideration and we shall deal with the other matter first.”
Following lunch the pair headed back to the Toyota, after which they spent the rest of the afternoon finding their way to the other outcrops Tyler had mentioned. Both were situated deep within the ranges and were difficult to access, with the second of them requiring a two kilometre walk – an inaccessibility Tyler found of considerable interest. Later they backtracked out of the escarpment country and returned to their campsite.
Next morning the two slept late. When the sun eventually cleared the granite hills they rose and rekindled their fire, after which they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast of cereal followed by bacon and eggs on toast.
Even then there was no need to hurry. Instead they sat back with second mugs of coffee and discussed ambitious and rewarding plans for the future.
Later, after cleaning and packing the breakfast things, they rolled their swags, loaded their gear, checked the Land Cruiser’s oil and water then set off toward the Great Northern diggings – all the while chattering happily about the favourable hand Lady Luck had dealt them.
But luck can change, and often when least expected. After crossing the line of lode and topping the first rise Tyler braked to a stop in disbelief, the Great Northern area visible in the distance.
Trucks and a large drilling rig were there. A trio of workers in bright yellow vests and hard-hats appeared to be setting up gear, and a front-end loader was going back and forth excavating a pit.
Farther along the rise a tray-back Toyota was parked, with another person active nearby. Then the drilling rig’s mast elevated part way and one of the workers climbed up it to do something. On climbing down again the mast was lowered.
For a time the two could only sit there and stare, stunned into silence by what they were seeing. Eventually, still without speaking, Tyler moved forward again.
At the Great Northern rise he turned from the track and drove the short distance up to where the activity was taking place. As they rolled to a stop one of the workmen started heading toward them, a huge rough-looking fellow with an air of brute authority and a hard-hat three sizes too small.
Tyler and Watts walked forward to meet him, suppressing their anger and frustration as they morphed into well-informed rock hounds looking for mineral specimens. Grundy introduced himself and explained briefly what they were doing there.
Tyler took exception to the driller’s soft voice and cultured speech. It was an act, he decided, exclaiming at the same time how wondrously interesting it all was. He then asked a number of intelligent questions about their drilling operation.
Grundy was pleased to answer. They would be core drilling a series of sections across the mineralised horizon, he said, pointing to the different coloured pegs marking the first section-line. Subsequent cross-sections would be at hundred-metre intervals southward. If they wished he would show them over the drill, he added, or they could visit again later when it was working. The only proviso was they would have to don high-vis vests, plus hard-hats, hearing protection and safety glasses, all of which he was happy to provide.
Tyler declined, saying they didn’t want to interrupt anything. They were at Jervois to collect specimens, he said, and had turned from the track simply because they were interested to see what was happening. He then asked Grundy how long such an operation might take.
Grundy said they expected to be on the field about six months and at Great Northern for eight or ten days. Just then one of the others walked up and spoke to him briefly. Grundy excused himself and the two returned to the drill.
Back in the Land Cruiser Tyler wondered what best to do. Should they leave and risk the drillers inadvertently burying or opening their pit or should they go ahead with their digging?
Watts was all for brazening it out, adding in no uncertain terms what he thought about Grundy and his drill crew. Digging in one of the pits there would not be contrary to anything they’d said, he reasoned, and would show they were prepared to work for their mineral specimens – whatever that may be worth.
Tyler was uncomfortable about going ahead in full view of the drillers, however, and argued that the risk of a postponement should be minimal. According to Grundy, he said, the first drill-section line crossed the rise some forty metres north of where they’d been digging, with subsequent sections to be at hundred metre intervals. That meant the next line would pass at least sixty metres south of their pit. In his opinion, therefore, returning after the drillers had finished here and moved was the better option.
Despite his impatience, Watts conceded. “Okay boss,” he said. “You’re the boss, boss.”
Tyler also decided it best they return to Alice Springs for the duration. They’d expected to be away less than a week and Grundy’s eight or ten days would see their supplies exhausted. This way the area would be clear on their return and they could continue without their efforts being so public.
The other project could wait until they were able to focus on it properly.
And so, as Grundy fired up the big eight wheeled rig truck and began moving it onto the drill pad, Tyler and Watts made their way down the drillers’ work track on Great Northern’s shallow western slope, then turned away from it at the Unka Creek crossing and headed toward the highway and Alice Springs.