A very Kiwi conspiracy: in search of New Zealand's giant sea serpent

As a young child I probably overdid it on books in the boy's own fantastic facts genre, reading with breathless wonder about giant - and collectively extinct - megafauna such as ichthyosaurs and plesiosaurs. Therefore it's probably not surprising that a few years' later I was captivated by Arthur C. Clarke's 1957 novel The Deep Range, featuring as it does a giant squid and a sea serpent, both very much alive. How seriously Clarke took such cryptozoology is unknown, although he clearly stated he considered it likely that the ocean depths harboured specimens up to twice the size of those known to science.

Of course it's easy to scoff at such notions, bombarded as we are with endless drivel about megalodon and mermaids, both from a myriad of websites and even worse, the docufiction masquerading as fact on allegedly science-themed television channels (I'm talking about you, Discovery!) As Carl Sagan was known to say, "extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence". Incidentally, if anyone has seen the clearly Photoshopped image of World War Two U-boats in front of the dorsal and tail fins of a megalodon, the total length of such an animal would be well over thirty metres. Most experts place the maximum length of this long-extinct species under twenty metres, so why do so many fakes over-egg the monster pudding?

I digress. One obvious difference between today and the pre-industrial past is that there used to be myriads of sightings regarding sea monsters of all shapes and sizes, but nowadays there are comparatively few, especially considering the number of vessels at sea today. Whilst there is a vast collection of fakery on the World Wide Web, much of this material appears to have been inspired by the BBC 2003 series Sea Monsters (and the various imitations that have since been broadcast) and the ease with which images can now be realistically manipulated.

As for scientifically-verifiable material of unknown marine giants, there is almost none - colossal squid aside. As Steven Spielberg summed up a quarter century after his canonical UFO movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind, with all the smartphone cameras about there should be documentary evidence galore. Likewise, enormous marine beasties should now be recorded on an ever-more frequent basis. After all, it's hardly as if giant sea serpents are being fished into extinction! Yet the lack of evidence implies that once again, the human penchant for perceiving patterns where none exist has caused the creation of myths, not the observation of genuine marine megafauna.

At least that's what I thought, until a couple of serendipitous events occurred. Early last year I noticed the National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research's second-largest vessel MV Kaharoa docked in Viaduct Harbour in Auckland. It had just returned from a month's research expedition to the Kermadec Islands, about 900 kilometres north-east of New Zealand. What was interesting was that I later found out the Kaharoa had been on an identical trip the previous year, ostensibly to record the condition of the snapper stocks. Yet NIWA usually organises these missions every second year rather than annually. So why was the vessel returning to the Kermadecs a year early? Although a joint venture between France, Scotland and New Zealand, the funding has to originate either with public money or corporate grants. Therefore it's unlikely the decision for a 2014 mission was undertaken lightly.

MV Kaharoa

I'd forgotten this mildly diverting conundrum when many months later I was browsing the NIWA website and came across their Critter of the Week blog. It was fairly late at night and I'll confess to having imbibed several bottles of beer, but I was pretty astounded to see a fairly murky and obviously deep water image containing what appeared to be nothing less than a hairy-maned sea serpent, with a note stating it was estimated to be around  twenty metres in length. I quickly loaded some news channels, including the New Zealand Herald and the BBC's Science and Environment news home page, but without finding any references to such a beast. I then flicked to the main NIWA website, but again didn't come across anything related to the creature. I returned to the Critter of the Week blog, only to find the page was no longer there. How X-Files is that?

Of course I'd forgotten to screenshot the page or download the image, so there was no proof that I hadn't been hallucinating. Did I imagine it or just misinterpret a perfectly normal specimen? Or was the blog temporarily hacked by a nutter or conspiracy theorist, who added a spoof article? As I went through the options and discarded them, it gradually dawned on me that perhaps the Kaharoa's unexpected summer expedition had been organised with one particular purpose in mind: the search for an elusive giant spotted the previous year.

I usually consider myself to be fairly sane, so let's consider the facts in lieu of hard evidence:

1. NIWA excel at finding new creatures: they have reported 141 species unknown to science within the past three years;
2. The Kermadecs are home to some very large animals for their type, including oversize oysters, the giant limpet Patella kermadecensis and the amphipod Alicella gigantea, which is ten times the size of most species in the same taxonomic order;
3. NIWA scientists have been known to comment with surprise on how many deep water species have recently been discovered - even if a specimen hasn't actually been captured - for regions that they have repeatedly studied over some years;
4. Expeditions are only just starting to explore the region between the depths of 2000 and 8000 metres;
5. Although the Kermadecs are on the edge of a marine desert, a combination of hot water and minerals upwelling from hydrothermal vents and the seabird guano that provides nutrition for the near-surface phytoplankton, help to kick-start diverse food webs;
6. There is an increasing quantity of meltwater from the Antarctic ice shelf, which being less dense than seawater may affect the depth of the thermocline, a region of highly variable temperature, which in turn could be altering the ecology of the region;
7. MV Kaharoa was carrying baited Hadal-landers, ideal for recording deep sea fauna, whereas snapper usually live in the top two hundred metres.

Apart from my own close encounter of the fishy kind, has there been any other recent evidence of what could be termed a giant sea serpent in New Zealand waters? Just possibly. A Google Earth image of Oke Bay in the Bay of Islands shows the wake of something that has been estimated to be around twelve metres long. The wake doesn't fit the diagnostic appearance for great whales or of a boat engine. Therefore could this be proof of sea serpents in the area? I have to say it looks more like an image rendering glitch to me, but then I'm no expert. On the plus side, the most likely candidate for such a creature is the giant oarfish Regalecus glesne, which I discussed in a post five years ago and which authoritative sources suggest can attain a maximum length of eleven metres. So clearly, the Oke Bay image is within the realm of possibility. As for the lack of documentary evidence compared to earlier centuries, could it be that the vast amounts of noise pollution from ship's engines may keep the creatures far from standard shipping lanes?

Where does this leave the Critter of the Week content that so briefly slipped - presumably accidentally - onto the live site? One possible clue that led marine biologists back to the Kermadecs could be the 2012 Te Papa Tongarewa Museum report on a colossal squid dissection, which states that chunks of herring-type flesh were found in its stomach and caecum. The oarfish belongs to the herring family and so it is just possible that titanic struggles between squid and oarfish are occurring in the ocean deep even now. And where better for an expedition to search for an elusive monster without fear of interruption than these relatively remote islands?

Unfortunately this is all surmise, as NIWA have refused to respond to my queries. It may be a long shot, but if anyone has noticed Te Papa taking delivery of a lengthy, narrow cross-section tank, or very large vats of formalin, why not let me know? The truth is out there, somewhere...probably...

A roaring success? The Walking with Dinosaurs Arena Spectacular

Surely these days everyone loves dinosaurs? After all, the original Jurassic Park movie made over a billion US dollars worldwide, enough to generate a plethora of merchandise and three sequels. In a less fictional vein, the BBC's television series' Walking with Dinosaurs broke viewing records - perhaps just as well, considering its equally record-breaking budget - and led to several TV spin-offs, including a 3D feature film aimed at very young children.

But it's rare for a television documentary (or should that be docudrama?) series to spawn a live show, which is exactly what happened in 2007. Walking with Dinosaurs: The Arena Spectacular has to date has been seen by a worldwide audience of over eight million. Again, this probably all to the good, considering the enormous expense involved in the production. So having seen the television series on DVD, my daughters were desperate to go to the live show here in Auckland. Due to the expense of the tickets I hummed and hawed but eventually bowed under pressure. This was nothing to do with my own interest in seeing the event, of course!

So was it worth it? The ninety minute show followed the chronological order of the series, from late Triassic to the Cretaceous-Tertiary boundary. My first impression wasn't particularly good, as the narrator Huxley (incidentally I'm not sure what Thomas Henry Huxley would make of the enterprise, considering he was even against opening the Natural History Museum to the general public) explained about dinosaur footprints whilst lights projected some very oversized examples of the same. I assume the scale was to allow visibility from the furthest rows, but even so it seemed a bit clumsy. In my book, there's a fine line between artistic licence and poor science communication.

However, things improved with the arrival of the first beasts. Although it looked as if it was immediately heading in a Disneyesque direction when several cute herbivorous Plateosaurus hatched from a nest of eggs, this was quickly quelled when one hatchling was gobbled up by a Liliensternus. It was excellent to see Nature in warts and all mode - or should that be a literal 'red in tooth and claw' - considering that the audience largely consisted of pre-teen children and their parents? Talking of which, in some cases the roaring monsters and dramatic lighting proved too much, with a girl sitting near me spending more time cradled under her father's armpit rather than looking at the show. I was in general surprised by the lack of anthropomorphising elements that the 3D movie was criticised for, a brave move considering the target audience. Perhaps the major concession to the junior spectators was the young T. rex, whose weak attempts at imitating its far more powerful parent induced laughter from the audience.

In addition to describing the behaviour of the dinosaurs – and one pterosaur (a decent-enough marionette hung in front of poorly projected background footage, although my younger daughter initially thought it was a giant bat) Huxley also covered plate tectonics and the development of vegetation. At one point he even stuck his hand into a steaming pile of fresh herbivore poop to retrieve a dung beetle, leading to an explanation of food chains past and present. Both the inflatable growing ferns and a forest fire were particularly well done, as well as some simple yet charming butterflies made of what looked like coloured paper blown around by hidden fans. My children agreed that the only thing they didn't like were the skate platforms required to move the larger dinosaurs, although I found these less distracting than the marginally camouflaged operator legs in the smaller species. Interestingly, neither of my daughters asked how the larger species were controlled. I guess they've grown up in an age of electronic wonders and this was seen to be just another example of impressive technology.

So what about the educational element of the show? Edutainment can be a difficult balance as well as an appalling word. In addition to the lavish praise that it deserved, the original television series was criticised for presenting speculation as fact. In particular, the large size of some of the species has been questioned. However, the arena event did acknowledge some of the developments since the series was first broadcast fifteen years ago, such as by adding feathers (or proto-feathers) to the mother Tyrannosaurus and even more so to her juvenile.

Judging by the appreciative audience, many of the younger crowd members were already familiar with a wide range of dinolore. For example, as each animal starting entering the arena I could hear children as young as four or five shouting some of the names - and correctly. This created a pleasing contrast to many of the adult visitors to London's Natural History Museum, whom I recall not only failed to differentiate a sauropod from a T. rex but assumed that every large skeleton they saw must be a dinosaur (for example, the giant sloth Megatherium in the Fossil Marine Reptiles gallery).

But just how much of an interest in the giant beasts of the Mesozoic is likely to lead to a more detailed understanding of the wider world of palaeontology as the audience members grow older? Unfortunately, at times it was difficult to hear the narrator's details due to a combination of the sound effects and intense music, which whilst emotive and dramatic, had a tendency to drown out Huxley's description of the antediluvian scenes. Combined with the palpable excitement that most of the younger audience members were clearly experiencing, it's dubious just how much anyone learned during the show. The associated website does contain some educational material, although it makes such basic mistakes as listing the pterosaur Ornithocheirus in the list of dinosaurs.

You could suggest that dinosaurs have become just another part of the great consumerist machine, with any associated science a lucky by-product of flogging stuff. After all, dinosaur-related merchandise features highly in the range at many museum gift shops, even those with a marginal connection to the fauna, as discussed unfavourably several decades ago by evolutionary palaeontologist Stephen Jay Gould. It could be argued that any attempt to introduce science-based knowledge to the general public is a good idea, but with the quality of special effects in this live-action show as well as in film and television it may be difficult for children brought up on this material to separate fact from fiction. It is undoubtedly an exciting time for dinosaur discoveries, but science is more than just a series of facts: without the rigour and understanding, the material is subject to the same whims of fashion as the rest of popular culture. If science is to be promoted as the most objective methodology our species has for understanding such fascinating subjects as ancient mega fauna, we need to ensure that audiences are given enough of the reasoning besides all the roaring.

Have spacecraft, will travel: planning the first manned Mars mission

As a space travel enthusiast since I was knee-high to a grasshopper it took me many years to appreciate robot probe missions with anything like the zeal engendered by manned spaceflight. As a schoolboy I watched the first space shuttle mission launch in 1981; no doubt like a multitude of others I initially considered this the start of the ‘casual' rather than pioneering phase of astronautics. Therefore it wasn't long before I asked myself the obvious question: when will there be a crewed mission to Mars?

Mars seems extremely familiar, no doubt due to the myriad of science fiction novels and films concerning the Red Planet. The last decade has seen a proliferation of news stories as various orbiters and rovers gather enormous amounts of - at times puzzling - data. However, none of the numerous projects of all scales that have investigated a manned mission have ever lifted off the launch pad. So here's a brief look at the state of play, not to say of course that this might not look woefully dated within the next few years.

1) Who will go to Mars?

Obviously the USA will supply the most funding so they will run the show. Or will they? The NASA budget available for planetary science is less than half that for International Space Station (ISS) operations, although of course the former are all unmanned missions. In fact, the Planetary Society has claimed that NASA spends less each year on interplanetary probes than the USA does on dog toys! A manned mission would have to negate this trend, as realistic estimates could be around US$500 billion for a single mission.

President Obama's announced half-billion dollar increase to the NASA budget is unlikely to be replicated by any Tea Party candidate who might (God forbid) achieve power. Unless that is we see a return to Cold War rivalries, with China offering a two-horse race to Mars. That might sound unlikely, but in 2006 the Chinese Government announced a long-term goal to land a crew there between 2040 and 2060. Since the US refused to allow them ISS involvement due to not wanting its technology to become available to Beijing, it is doubtful the Whitehouse would be any happier to cooperate in a Mars mission.

Either way, it's probable that some of the ISS partners would collaborate. However unrealistic it now appears in light of the financial crisis, back in 2001 the European Space Agency (ESA) announced its own plan for a crewed Mars landing in the 2030s. There was even a suggestion to include Russia as a minority partner, but the political situation there may prove prohibitive.

It doesn't just have to be other Western nations who participate in a NASA-led project, as numerous private companies are now involved in the commercial space programme. No doubt collaboration between some of the long-established aerospace giants and recent start-ups such as Space-X - whose long-term goal is to establish a Martian colony - with various Western governments would be more palatable to finance ministers. But it's still early days for the private sector: smaller infrastructure may shorten timescales compared to monolithic state enterprise, but as the Virgin Galactic SpaceshipTwo crash shows, developing even sub-orbital craft at this level still carries enormous risk.

So all in all, it could be the US and ESA, with or without substantial private investment, or China in a race with a Western bloc or (as an extreme longshot) Dutch engineer and entrepreneur Bas Lansdorp, whose Mars One mission plans to regularly send crews of four non-professional astronauts on a one-way trip to the Red Planet from 2025. So far he has raised about 1/8000th of the project's already shoestring budget, but that hasn't stopped thousands of would-be colonists from applying. In addition to the necessary privations, these volunteers would also be the subjects of a fund-raising reality television show. If doesn't sound even vaguely like the product of an insane society then I don't know what is. Perhaps we should just turn our backs on the rest of the universe and just spend our lives uploading selfies to social media sites?

2) What will happen?

In theory it sounds simple: a small group of professional astronauts with various scientific backgrounds will spend up to two years on a high-risk mission, exploring the Martian surface for perhaps a month or so, then bring back copious samples of rock, soil, atmosphere and ice for more detailed examination on Earth.

The BBC ‘s 2004 mockumentary Space Odyssey: Voyage to the Planets showed the deadly effects that ionizing radiation can have on interplanetary travellers. The Mars Science Laboratory, carrier of the Curiosity rover, spent the Earth to Mars transit recording the radiation levels. It confirmed that they were high enough to risk crew members contracting various serious conditions such as cataracts and cancer. Incidentally, female astronauts would apparently be more prone to radiation-induced cancers than male colleagues. A 2012 mission plan considered developing an electromagnetic anti-radiation shield, but most designs are looking to use traditional aluminium construction, perhaps with polyethylene shielding around the pressurised cabins. This definitely appears to be a case of fingers crossed as much as relying on advanced materials science.

The long duration spent in shipboard micro-gravity will also cause physical problems such as bone and muscle deterioration. The astronauts/cosmonauts/taikonauts (delete as preferred) will then have to adjust on Mars arrival to the one-third Earth gravity. As well as avoiding radiation on the Martian surface they will have to minimise contamination from the fine dust: minute particles suspended in the atmosphere could cause lung and thyroid problems if allowed into the lander cabin.

Besides the physical problems, the pioneering crew will also have to contend with the psychological effects of having travelled further from the Earth than any other humans - by an enormous margin. It's one thing to undertake a mission on the ISS - with a regular exchange of crew and a close-up view of the Earth via the cupola - but quite another to spend several years away from fresh air, blue skies, and all the other fantastic things we take for granted. The interplanetary distances would of course be exacerbated by the lack of real-time conversation: the one-way journey time for radio signals from the Martian surface is between four and twelve minutes.

There has been much research into astronaut's disturbed sleep patterns, which can obviously have deleterious effects on their work as well as their mental health. The claustrophobic conditions may contribute too: negative emotions blighted the small group of inhabitants of the Arizona-based Biosphere 2 sealed ecosystem in the 1990s. In addition, this experiment had distinct problems maintaining the environment, with a primary issue being the fluctuating oxygen and carbon dioxide levels. All in all, there are likely to be problems even the best planned mission won't have predicted.

3) When will it take place?

By comparison to low Earth orbit missions, a trip to Mars would be several magnitudes greater. If you want a pioneering aviation analogy I've just figured out that ratio of the Earth-Moon distance compared to the mean Earth-Mars distance is akin to the Wright Brothers' first flight of 36.5 metres being followed up by another spanning over 5 kilometres!

I can foresee two main issues to consider when planning mission timelines, which should ideally coincide to suggest an ideal launch window. The first is the relative orbital mechanics of the two bodies, which can be exploited so as to utilise a minimum fuel trajectory. The second relies on the eleven-year solar cycle: maximal solar activity helps to block interstellar cosmic rays and so reduce the risk of radiation poisoning. Although the sun's output would be at its peak, the astronauts would be safe from solar flares and coronal mass ejections providing they didn't need to undertake any spacewalks or surface EVAs for their duration.

There are several research projects that if one were to prove successful, could reduce by several decades the time before humanity is ready for its first manned Mars flight. The University of Washington and Lockheed Martin are both working on nuclear fusion technology suitable for such a mission. By reducing the journey time from between six and eight months to just three months there would be far less health risk to the crew, as well as presumably considerable weight savings on air and consumables.

Therefore it may become feasible as early as the 2040s but I doubt any earlier, regardless of how much advance is made in fusion technology. On top of all the usual political and socio-economic fluctuations there are just too many important longer-term issues that need resolution here first.

4) Where will it take place?

Mars, of course! The planet has a wide variety of locales (hint of travel brochure there), some rather more interesting than others. If the public get to vote on sites for exploration - bearing in mind that taxpayers will no doubt be funding the majority of the mission - conspiracy theorists and assorted nutbars might promote the curious tetrahedrons (note, not pyramids) of Elysium. Presumably they're enormous ventifacts, but they still appear to be very interesting geological features.

Then there's the great canyon system of Valles Marineris, over 4000 kilometres long and up to 7 kilometres deep. Or how about the 25 kilometre high Olympus Mons and its surrounding escarpment? In Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space, Carl Sagan suggested that it might be fruitful to explore the slopes of the Martian volcanoes in case they are scattered with diamonds ejected from the carbon-rich mantle!

Other locations that are just begging for detailed exploration are the polar caps, now thought to be mostly composed of water ice rather than frozen carbon dioxide, and caves or caverns, which would not only be a good place to search for native microbes but also to hide from radiation or dust storms.

5) Why will it happen?

This is perhaps the most difficult question to answer. Carl Sagan argued that the mission would fulfil the deep-seated need for exploration that our species - only recently converted from a nomadic existence - still feels. There is something to be said of this provision of a surrogate for human wanderlust, as identified in Bertrand Russell's 1959 quote: "a world without war need not be a world without adventurous and hazardous glory." This form of argument seems fairly mainstream in astronautic circles: even NASA's budget estimate for 2016 includes the phrases ‘reveal the unknown' (very likely) and ‘benefit all humankind' (which seems rather less obvious, except for Earth resources and weather satellites).

Against this notion are rather more pragmatic motives such as a combination of accelerated technological development and national prestige. But if nuclear fusion power is acquired in time for the first mission it's difficult to see what else will be gained from spending say half a trillion US dollars on a single crewed flight: wouldn't it be wiser to spend such vast sums on environmental stabilisation or medical research here on Earth? I've already commented on the potential white elephant of the ISS and there are no doubt many who don't consider any manned space exploration a suitable use of such enormous resources.

It's obvious that there are distinctive practical advantages to having humans on the spot rather than relying on robots. One issue that a single manned mission might be able to resolve that countless probes wouldn't is the question of life on Mars. The haze and plume seen in 2012 and the seasonal methane suggest some very interesting meteorological phenomenon if there isn't a biological explanation, but if there is any Martian bacteria then surely the mission could be deemed worthy of its immense budget? Somehow, I have my doubts…

One day in the next few centuries there could well be - unfortunately - branches of Starbucks and McDonalds on Mars and the Red Planet will be an alien frontier no more. But until then, any humans who undertake such an incredible journey will be pioneers in the Yuri Gagarin/Roald Amundsen/Edmund Hillary mould. However, I doubt the first human to step onto the Martian surface will use the latter's keen Kiwi phraseology: "we knocked the b***d off!"

Unprofessional endeavours: amateur paleontology in New Zealand

There is currently an exhibition touring around New Zealand called Dinosaur Footprints: A Story of Discovery, which as its name suggests concerns traces of our much-beloved prehistoric beasts. Besides being the nation's first dinosaur footprints (known to science, that is) the story of their discovery is all the more interesting for their having been found by accident. In this particular case the discoverer was a professional geologist but in many cases New Zealand's great fossil discoveries have been equally serendipitous findings by amateurs.

Whilst New Zealand science is comparatively young, amateurs have always played a pivotal role in both the discovery and analysis of native fossils. Although the beginnings of Kiwi paleontology appear rather haphazard (see for example Quinn Berentson's superb Moa: The life and death of New Zealand's legendary bird for details on Walter Mantell, Julius von Haast and co.) the involvement of amateurs has far from diminished even today.

Although I've previously discussed non-professional fossicking before and even written a more New Zealand-focused April Fool's post, the more I've learnt about the Kiwi give-it-a-go approach the more I've wanted to write about the discipline from a local perspective.  Having undertaken three fossil hunts over the past year in the North Island (two successful, one a complete failure) I also now have some practical experience to aid me.

New Zealand fossil finds from 2014

There are several amateur New Zealand palaeontologists who have made key discoveries, perhaps the best known being Dave Allen and the late Joan Wiffen. The latter found the first dinosaur material in the country, as well as some Mesozoic marine reptile remains. And this was after many professionals claimed there was unlikely to be any such material in New Zealand! Dave Allen has also made some key finds and is occasionally even asked by the likes of Te Papa for advice.  Clearly, in a nation served by less than thirty full-time professionals, such people are able to make a big difference. To show it isn't just the province of adults, in 2006 children from the Hamilton Junior Naturalists Club found bones from a 35 million year old giant penguin, which just shows what a mind even semi-prepared for such material can discover.

One of the common misapprehensions about fossil hunting is that it involves excavation in the same way as is often required in archaeology. In fact, many fossils can be found eroding out of cliffs or roadside cuttings, or even found in loose material on beaches. Therefore there is a finite period between fossils being easy to spot and becoming worn down into useless fragments just by natural erosion, never mind man-made development. One report for example, suggests that weather will severely erode over fifty known fossil locations in the next half century. As such, it seems to make common sense that the more people trained to spot fossil material and be able to carefully extract it, the better. The late evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould, an expert on snails, once lamented that whilst in the Great Rift Valley he was unable to spot any of the hominin remains but instead homed in on the copious fossil snails that everyone else had missed!

This isn't to say that amateurs should have carte blanche. About one third of New Zealand's fossiliferous locations are protected from extraction due to the importance of the material. However, that still leaves at least thirty to forty sites that are easy for non-professionals to access whilst also allowing the removal of fossils. Amateurs are well served by both books and websites that supply details of locales and common fossil species. James Crampton and Marianna Terezow's family-friendly The Kiwi Fossil Hunter's Handbook is particularly good for the former whilst the same authors along with three others have written A Photographic Guide to Fossils of New Zealand, an invaluable resource. For the more serious amateurs, finds details can be found at resources such as the Fossil Record Electronic Database (FRED), which has over 86,000 locations. So all in all, there's plenty of help for the casual fossicker.

In addition to the argument that the greater the number of fossil hunters, the greater the opportunity to discover material before it is eroded, there is also the problem that the lack of professionals is apparently causing the loss of knowledge in basic areas such as taxonomy. According to James Crampton and Roger Cooper's 2010 report The State of Paleontology in New Zealand, around 40% of Cenezoic mollusc species have yet to be fully described. They state that there are still large areas of the country that have not been fully explored by palaeontologists so who knows what other surprises may lurking in the deep bush or hidden river valley?

There's even the slim chance that the involvement of amateurs may stimulate public interest and activity in important associated fields, such as the protection of endangered species, environmental pollution, sustainability and the promotion of science in general over woolly thinking. After all, it appears most politicians would rather side with big business than the greens, so only continuous and concerted efforts from a fair-sized element of the general public will likely aid the future state of the nation's environment. And that's not something any of us can afford to ignore, regardless of whether you are interested in the remains of organisms that have long since turned to stone.