KEY POINTS:
It's a great joy for a man to give his loved one a diamond ring. A pure, unblemished diamond symbolises commitment and permanence.
How romantic would it be if the devoted, sensitive New Age fellow went out and dug up a precious stone with his own hands?
"Drive up the Plenty Highway, cobber, and make your fortune," an old-time, true-blue Aussie prospector advised me on a recent trip to Alice Springs. This inside knowledge was all the incentive I needed.
At The Gemtree caravan park, 140km north east of Alice, I learn that daily prospecting tours are run to the Harts Range zircon and garnet fields.
Owner Graham Short introduces me to the Moes Scale, which is the hardness rating for precious metals. Diamonds top the scale at 10 points; sapphires and rubies rate nine; emeralds eight and zircons and garnets seven-and-a-half.
Once I hear that natural zircons are superior to their man-made equivalent (cubic zirconia) and sparkle like Argyle diamonds from the Kimberley Region, my course is set. My wife has a birthday looming and a gemstone personally extracted from the desert's sun-baked crust would make the perfect gift.
It's 35C out on the 730 million-year-old Mud Tank zircon field and I'm soon thinking that volunteering for an afternoon's hard yakka among the heat, dust and flies wasn't the smartest idea.
Prospecting guide Grant places our group in different locations within a 100-metre area and gives us the low-down on what we're looking for.
"Zircons occur as small crystals or chips, some with rough surfaces, others water-worn. But don't get stuck on colour or shape. Zircons can be any shape but usually look clear or opaque like glass."
Grant then demonstrates the physical process, digging no deeper than 40cm into the hard-packed gravel and filling the bucket.
He transfers the dirt into a large sieve sitting on a metal frame and shakes out all the fine material. The remaining stones are washed and left soaking in a drum of water.
After a few minutes they are emptied on to the sorting board. This is the exciting part. The stones are spread out and we examine them with great expectations.
For three hours I pick, shovel, vibrate, shake, soak and sort several hundred kilos of dirt-clogged gravel, anxiously poring over the glistening wet pebbles on my sorting board. Each load brings alternating triumph and despair. I soon became thoroughly absorbed and emotionally involved in the work.
"This is my true vocation in life," I think during one mental lapse. Then I straighten up and feel the pain course through my spine.
The result of my labour is a motley collection of glassy stones. My best are three "cutters" of four, five and six grams.
When Graham examines the "sixer" through a magnifying glass, he says admiringly: "You must have been glad to spot this one, as it's free of faults and blemishes."
Hearing this appraisal, I arrange for 73 facets to be cut by the resident gem cutter.
My cut and polished zircon is stunning; sparkling like a million-dollar diamond, reflecting starlight off its facets like a miniature Milky Way. It will make a beautiful ring.
Searching for the holy grail of an unblemished stone is addictive. I can't wait to get across The Ditch again.
* Paul Rush travelled as a guest of Tourism Northern Territory.
