Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria University College, Wellington N.Z. Vol. 20, No. 14. September 26, 1957
On a recent Friday night, 16 heavily-eroded Charlies of the Geol. Soe. set off in two rental vans for three days of field geology in the Wairarapa.
Next morning, after a buttered bread and saveloy banquet, the vans headed for the seaside, pedalled by Gary Orbell and Barry Webby. we observed large-scale slumping there of lower tertiary sediments. On the way one of our drivers, getting a shock at seeing cow-cockey driving a late-model Mercedes Benz, put his van into a ditch, uttering "struihiolaria"! It wasn't the sheep in the back seat that upset him but the horse in the front. Wading a river brought out some interesting personalities; John Lewis evidently thought he needed a second baptism, as he gave us a demonstration on how to cross a river fully-clothed using the Lewis craw Land that Goddamned Yankee started to take his boots and socks off (he's been in the Marine Corps). Seeing our pained looks he hobbled through with only one boot off, and on the way back walked straight in with both boots on (Our [unclear: acolian] friend sure was a butte.) Mr. Bradley of 'the Geology Dept. gave an interesting dissertation on the geology of this area both on this day and Sunday.
On the Saturday night after an interesting slew (where Did my bag of specimens get to?) we had a round-the-candle discussion on continental-drift. hypotheses. and other rare fossils. Despite protests by us that he was too tired. Barrs McKelvey insisted on relating his adventures in the Urewera. Some people got so interested on hearing his stories that they left the room, otherwise they couldn't sleep, they said.
Sunday morning found us looking at fossil-beds; fossils I discovered didn't bite but were hard very-dead organisim. There were plenty of examples for all—two helpings if you were hungry. Some spent that night drinking lemonade, others a pleasant-smelling, light-brown liquid which seemed to have an interesting physiological effect: conversation ranged from Bach to red-hot jazz (Alva's Bach is worse Ilian her bite).
On the Monday, travelling at speed (or faster) we returned to the coast, then off over the hills, the delicate aroma of Ngauranga telling us we were finally home.
As I had never done any geology. I was a little apprehensive when I began this tour, but at no stage was I at a loss to understand it. I soon got used to eating off a water-table and saw more horsts than even the most experienced. (I have a sneaking suspicion that some of the more moraine students used to cheat at this game. They would yell out hog-back" when I knew damn wel there wasn't a pig for miles.) However. I did learn some things I didn't know before: sinkholes have nothing in common with plugholes, a bergschrund in not a dog. and if you don't play the game, and pinch other people's fossils they will say you are graben. Furthermore, you mustn't mention bottom-set beds in the presence of ladies!
I astly thanks to the committee for organising a really gneiss trip, and providing us with much data on strata, Information on sedimentation, and knowledge of palacontologe.
Those who went were Alva Challis. Jill be Fort. Roger (Idaho Martin. Peter Webb. Barry Webby. Barry McKelvey. Hank Van der Heufel. John Lewis. Tony Allen. [unclear: Gry] Orbell. Michael Heine. David Mill. Graham Gibson. Michael Hall. Alec Malahoff, and Chris Horne.