Black Diamonds

It's curious the things that can irritate you.  This morning I was having a coffee while leafing through a jewellery catalogue that'd arrived in the mail.  One of the pages featured "Black & White Diamonds". Apparently the diamonds are "enhanced by high temperature to permanently create the intense black colour". 

In my world there's only one place you'll find black diamonds, and that's in a pile of West Coast coal.

I didn't blog yesterday because the idea of writing about my day seemed in totally inane when taken in context with what was happening in the wider world.  Hearing of the second explosion at the Pike River Coal mine and the loss of hope of finding survivors took away any desire to share the fun of my world.

When I was 19, The Boss and I transferred to the Wild West Coast of the South Island after I was offered a major job promotion. Neither of us had ever been there and had no idea what to expect, but we packed up the jet boat and our two dogs and just went.  What followed were twelve months of unforgettable experiences.

Coasters are known as a bit of a 'closed' community - not readily acceptant of outsiders. However, we came from Southland, and our southern accent and rolling Rrrr's helped us make friends and feel a sense of belonging. Back in those days you had to be 21 to go to the pub, but this was the Coast, so I think we found at least two new pubs to check out every weekend. 

I have many fond memories of West Coast places and people. The second person to find out I was pregnant was the publican at the Teramakau pub.  When The Boss ordered a beer and a lemonade instead of our regular two pints the barkeeper growled "What's the matter with my beer?!" so I had to tell him.

More than anything I miss the unique smell of the Coast after a downpour of rain. It's a wonderful earthy, damp, green mossy smell that's both warm and refreshing. The first night we slept there, I was sure the motel unit was going to be washed away by deluge from the sky, but it didn't take long for us to learn to take the rain in our stride.

One Saturday morning when it wasn't raining, The Boss and I borrowed a large trailer and took a nail biting drive up a windy gravel track deep into the bush north of Greymouth.  It was strictly one lane traffic only, with a rock face on one side, and a drop down into a river gorge on the other.  You see we had been fortunate enough to have been given the key to a private coal mine, and we were off to get coal.

Coming from Southland, I thought of coal as dull brown/black lumps bagged up with lots of dust.

When The Boss unlocked the coal shute and our trailer started to fill I couldn't believe my eyes.  West Coast coal shines like diamonds.  The cut surfaces are smooth, the edges sharp. West Coast coal is heavy and burns with the most intense heat imaginable.   When it came time for us to leave the Coast and head back down south, we took our remaining coal with us because it was so amazing.

It's been hard watching the news on tv as the Pike River Coal Mine disaster has played out.  On Wednesday night I wanted to shout at the reporters to stop asking such bloody stupid questions of people so newly rocked by grief.  I cringed every time a presenter used the correct pronunciation of the Coast's many Maori township names, because that's not how you say it if you're a local.

I didn't blog yesterday because it was the wrong thing to do.  Today I feel differently.

What I've learnt today:
1. Stop and feel gratitude for the world that surrounds you.
2. Although I'll never be able to speak Maori, one proverb really touches me:
"Ask me what is the greatest thing in the world, I will reply: It is people, it is people, it is people".