..."yeah it is some sort of chloritized pyritic rock, but I don't really want to put a name to it... Some sort of vague igneous texture... drilling is shithouse, only three meters so far..."
It was all I could do to refrain from picking up the mike and saying, "Good luck boys. We're heading back to town today for a shower, a swim, and a cold beer. Should we have a round for you blokes, or are you on a dry site?"
Sounds like the old Alaska camps where everyone would listen in on everyone else's business, which would include personal calls from the lower 48 - real "news and rumour from the bush."
ReplyDelete