Fieldwork Oct 5-13, 16-18, 31-Nov 2

This was the most productive and enjoyable PhD fieldwork I have done to date. Uncharacteristically good weather, a keen field assistant and longer days allowed me to get to some hard to reach places. Some days we didn't return to camp until 9PM. I managed to answer some questions I had, create many new ones, and find some great outcrops. I am now fully willing to argue I have the most complete and important section through the Alpine Fault! I have much to think about and to plan for the next round of fieldwork, whenever that may be.

I managed to go canyoning, rappelling and even caving in the name of science! Needless to say I am really starting to get into my fieldwork. It's hard work and I can go an entire day of bashing through thick bush without seeing a rock, but overall the persistence has paid off.

Several long days were spent bashing through wet bush to get to Livingstone Fault Zone outcrops. We revisited a previously described outcrop which is the best section through the fault I have seen yet. It's a very tricky place to reach with waterfalls above and below where the fault crosses the creek and steep unstable slopes everywhere else.

All photos of me in this post by Ryan Weidert.

Steeper than it looks!
Abseiling a waterfall


On a bright, sunny day we stretched into wetsuits and descended Monkey Puzzle Gorge, which was one of the most enjoyable days of fieldwork I have ever done. Once we swam the first stretch at the start, we were committed to go out the bottom no matter what we encountered downstream. The entire day was spent swimming, floating, wading, and jumping our way downstream, examining the rocks and taking samples and measurements where necessary. Steep inescapable walls, thick vegetation and deep blue green pools framed a very beautiful and very tropical scene. There was only one section of the gorge which caused terror- we found ourselves at the lip of a 10m waterfall with white frothy rapids and room-sized boulders as far as we could see. This we bypassed with some difficulty by traversing the bush on river left. Imagine room-sized boulders covered in thick moss and ferns with the 5m deep gaps between them covered in unsupportive moss. We took it slow and tested every step before our full weight was applied. The rest of the canyon was a breeze.




Greenland Group gneiss

Trying to get a GPS fix in the middle of the river
Ryan cleared some rather large river boulders at the Martyr River Alpine Fault outcrop with the result that we had several square meters of important footwall outcrop. There is now only a 2m section missing where the fault has thrust over river cobbles to an uncertain depth. We also cleaned an exposure at a Martyr tributary which perfectly exposes the fault core- my missing 2m of section at the other exposure! I won't describe further here but it is all very interesting!

Jackson Bay, southernmost settlement on the West Coast
The Cray Pot, only restaurant in field area

Jackson River Road, only road access to field area
Eying a gap of several days of good weather we then flew into the Jerry River, a place only briefly examined by geologists before because of its remoteness. The Jerry had completely different rock types than I have seen in the Jackson (or anywhere else for that matter) and I couldn't help but laugh and scratch my head every time I saw something new. Entire hillsides of fresh outcrop were mapped, measured and sampled. In a few days we managed to cover quite a bit of ground! Sadly, I collected few samples that aren't held together by glue or aluminum foil which means painstaking preparation later. It is clear the Alpine Fault is a very different beast here than it is to the north. We were picked up just before being completely socked in by low clouds and had to fly the long way out the coast. Had the helicopter arrived any later, we probably would have been sitting out a nasty storm in the tent for a couple more days.





Nice outcrop! (note fault at center)



Waiting for our ride
Escaping before the storm
One day was spent looking for, and exploring, Serendipity Cave. I found the main entrance to Serendipity by crawling into a small hole which intersected the proper entrance. Amazingly, this is not the first time I have found a known cave entrance from the inside by exploring an unmapped hole! There was a lot more cave than I anticipated and it had a main passage with quite comfortable dimensions. One side chamber was absolutely choked with stalactites and flowstone. I checked about a dozen leads, most of which kept going and all of which were virgin passage. The whole time I was giddy that there are caves in my field area. There is still much to explore! My hope is to find a clever way to use the cave to determine an uplift rate for the region west of the Alpine Fault and possibly a record of tilting.

Fieldwork!

The last day we went for a sunset walk along a beautiful West Coast beach near Cole Creek and ended up pitching tents on it.




After caving at the top of the South Island we returned to backpack into the Cascade River to check out the area near Woodhen Creek for a few days. Some good discoveries were made, but a good amount of time was also spent wondering aimlessly through the bush. You can't always have outcrop where you want it.


Woodhen Pond (an Alpine Fault sag pond)
Navigating the swamps
Theta Tarn
Cascade River
Hopefully next up, some rafting and more rappelling to get to those hard to reach outcrops. Rest assured, there is still a seemingly endless list of things to still check out in future fieldwork.

A huge thanks to Ryan Weidert for being my devoted field assistant. He did a superb job of "improving" outcrops, taking photos, observing, blazing trails, carrying stuff, using his height to get better GPS reception, occasionally being a ladder, battling sandflies, testing rotten logs and swamp squishiness, controlling weather, and rationing sweets.

Robinson Creek Oct 4

I decided to start a month of fieldwork and traveling with my friend/field assistant Ryan by checking out one of the canyons near Haast Pass en route to my field area.

It was one of those mornings that did not exactly motivate one to undertake grandiose plans that would potentially involve intense suffering. The day got a slow start as we ran out of the car into the blistering cold to check the water levels in Wilsons Creek before rushing back to the safety of the car heater, which slowly defrosted my brain. Water levels: check. Hmm...not so sure about the snow falling from the sky though, and the 1 degree Celcius temperature, and the fact that we are already getting a late start to what would promise to be over 8 hours of partial or full submersion in near-freezing water. A long, slow discussion followed, which mostly consisted of putting every extremity next to a heated vent and staring blankly out the front window. At some point it was decided we should go canyoning since we were here, but that a fully committing day did not sound too smart given the conditions and potential for hypothermia (I had only a 4mm/3mm wetsuit). We would instead go for Robinson Creek, another new one to me and only about a 2.5 hour trip.

And so we suited up at the car and plodded up the hill to the start of the canyon. The drop-in had snow everywhere and light clumpy snow fell from the sky in waves. Perfect New Zealand canyoning weather (intense sarcasm)! Robinson builds slowly with a few small rappels and jumps and then before you know it the creek plunges eerily and ominously into a dark cavern whose bottom is not immediately visible. A beautiful 25m rappel skirts the full blast of the waterfall and drops you into a magnificent dark chamber. Where the obvious reaction from the top of the rappel is one of foreboding, looking up into the chamber from downstream inspires feelings of awe and appreciation. The circulating blast of the air from the falling water suspends the whole chamber in mist and in places actually forces the waterfall back skywards! The noise was deafening. Just downstream the canyon inter-fingers in a dark slot with enormous chockstones overhead. Shortly after the cavern section, the creek emerges from the depths of the glacial bench it has incised. Apart from a minor snafu on the last rappel and the constant cold, it was a very enjoyable trip. A short while later we were quickly peeling our freezing wetsuits and huddling next to the car heaters as I drove towards a sunny West Coast to do fieldwork.

New snow in background!


Rappelling into the dark chamber

Martyr Fieldwork Sept 16-21

Six days, one pair of wet socks. With a solid weather forecast, I headed off to the coast to get in some fieldwork before my big push for more challenging fieldwork in October. I answered a few questions I had and created twice as many new ones with some outcrops I came across. I did some "gardening" and "diverting" so that hopefully some outcrops will be improved next time I return. This was the first time I went without a field assistant since I avoided rappelling and rafting this time, which really wasn't too bad.

Some lessons learned from a week of solo fieldwork:
-West Coast rivers are always deeper and swifter than they appear.
-If a log appears rotten, it probably is.
-If a log appears fresh, there's a good chance it's rotten.
-My field area contains some of the slipperiest rocks in NZ.
-I don't know what everyone is talking about, I am an excellent conversationalist.
-If you want to know whether it's possible to get somewhere, befriend a helicopter pilot!

Above: Lake Ellery and the confluence of the Arawhata and Jackson rivers

The Alpine Fault is between the Southern Alps (Pacific Plate) and the rounded hills in the coastal plains (Australian Plate)

Alpine Fault core (looking down; Pacific Plate to top of photo)

Alpine Fault core (looking NE; Pacific Plate to right, Australian Plate to left. A lot of my field photos look like they were taken in the dark because the bush is too thick to take photos without a flash. Many outcrops require some degree of gardening...

Around Dunedin

This seems as good a time as any to share an amalgamation of Dunedin photos I have taken. As I mentioned in the last post, I have been bound to Dunedin for the last month or so. I have been coping by exploring my fair city on runs, bike rides and drives in a scavenger hunt of sorts.

One thing I absolutely love about Dunedin is the plethora of street art- be it commissioned murals or clever graffiti- I have never been anywhere where they were so abundant. In particular, Dunedin's bus stops are a simple joy to me. The vast majority of the bus stops (over 60!) were painted by the late John Noakes, who also painted many large murals around town. The most common themes are sea creatures, space/sci-fi, and seascapes with towering islands. Many have to do with the local area in one way or another. Blue seemed to be his weapon of choice.

For the most part people seem to respect the murals and public art- "tagging" someone else's art is rare. Some graffiti has a pointedly political purpose, others are just for fun. For example, the devilishly smiling cartoon giraffes someone has taken to painting all over town. I have seen over 20 of these little buggers, sometimes in the most unlikely places and sometimes when you least expect them. Some are in love, others are pirates. Once you start opening your eyes to look for graffiti and art instead of tuning it out, you start seeing it all over the place.

Note: Many of these photos utilize HDR. This was the only way I could capture all the detail in the shadows and highlights of some of the bus stops.

Feel free to leave a comment. It would be nice to know if anyone actually looks at this :)

Giraffes




Past in Present
Robbie Burns

Church of Chris
In case you ever wondered where driftwood ended up
Boat shed

West Coast Field Trip Aug 28-Sept 1

I managed to escape Dunedin for the West Coast field trip after being confined to the city for well over a month. It was good to get out and travel a little after working so hard without a break. The trip wasn't too noteworthy except for the impressive lightning/thunder storms that are a rarity in this country. We toured classic NZ geology, looking at sections through the Haast and Alpine Schists and visited the more accessible outcrops of the Alpine Fault. All the outcrops had deteriorated significantly since I last visited them in 2006- it really is amazing how dynamic the landscape is on the West Coast. The highlight of the trip was a talk I attended at Franz Josef educating the locals on the very real hazards of a large Alpine Fault earthquake. It was a beautiful moment of science with a purpose. I found an obscure trail at Franz Josef glacier I did not know existed before- cables and ladders to the best view of the glacier. Also saw a couple Fiordland Crested penguins (New Zealand's rarest) at a West Coast beach. It was particularly neat to watch one swim up the creek to its nesting site.