Dr. Badham was a former Chief Geologist with RTZ and was an independent consulting geologist att he time of his death. He died of a heart attack in his sleep while working on the Baza project in Spain for Western Uranium and AuEx. Nick just had his 63rd birthday in May. He had an incredible recall of all things geological from all over the world along with his truly amazing repertoire of limericks, which he could recite on a moment's thought. When Nick fell down an old mine shaft in Spain nearly 20 years ago and landed on his head, many thought he would never recover and if he did his memory would be gone. Leave it to Nick to prove us all wrong and go on to demonstrate that even after a severe brain injury he still had most of us licked by a long shot on brain power and geological recall! Nick had a long career with Selection Trust, BP and RTZ and through these companies many of us in the US had the fortunate experience of being exposed to Nick's geologic expertise, love of life and people, and great sense of humor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week with Nick Badham by Martin Litherland (posted with permission)
I was in Quito in 1987 in charge of the British Geological Mission. David Coochey had casually asked me if I wanted to go with Nick in a helicopter to look for an outcrop of gold-bearing skarn, of which BP minerals had a sample. As the area was on my patch (Cordillera Real), I stupidly said ‘keep me a seat' or some such.
Nick arrived a month or so later. He stayed with us and charmed my little boys. He told me he had kept a seat for me as he had heard I was keen to go! The helicopter belonged to typical rum Ecuadorian outfit called Icarus. The pilot was Captain Apollo, but he didn't get the joke!
We flew down to Tena in the Amazonic foothills where we picked up Colonel somebody, who had the field notebooks of the geologist who had found the outcrop but who had drowned in a nearby river. We also picked up a couple of peons, some supplies and a tarpaulin.
The outcrop was in the Rio Valle Vicioso, a terrifying canyon down the eastern Andes, always subjected to bad weather. Despite being buffeted from side to side the chopper managed to land on a sandspit and we told the pilot to come back in three days (my Spanish was better than Nick's).
We had a wet night under the tarpaulin and the following day we began to cut our way up the precipitous forest following a cascading creek to the exposure site: Nick, myself, the colonel (who spoke no English) and the two peons. It was then I realised that my usefulness was perhaps not geological expertise, but as a translator!
I fell down a ten-foot hole and Nick helped me out. (I lost my Swiss Army knife, and Nick bought me another afterwards). Then we clambered up a 100-foot waterfall. Right at the top I started to slip and would have killed myself, but there was Badham's hand and that quirky smile of one who knows he has saved a life but doesn't want to draw attention to it. We reached the outcrop, but there was nothing. I later had the sample sectioned and worked out it came from the Nambija gold deposit: it had been planted to attract BP interest!
Nick told me to tell the Colonel that he was a !*&!#*!!^! and many other things. I turned to the Colonel and said (in Spanish) ‘Dr Badham is not pleased with you', and he was mortified.
We could not walk back down the river, so we spent the next two days soaking wet fishing, inventing games to play with the peons, and chatting. I got to know Nick quite well and he told me all about his accident. The permanent bad weather delayed the chopper till we ran out of food.
We parted company and I never saw him again. And then I saw his death in Geoscientist and I remembered that week. And I remembered the man. Special people are remembered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week with Nick Badham by Martin Litherland (posted with permission)
I was in Quito in 1987 in charge of the British Geological Mission. David Coochey had casually asked me if I wanted to go with Nick in a helicopter to look for an outcrop of gold-bearing skarn, of which BP minerals had a sample. As the area was on my patch (Cordillera Real), I stupidly said ‘keep me a seat' or some such.
Nick arrived a month or so later. He stayed with us and charmed my little boys. He told me he had kept a seat for me as he had heard I was keen to go! The helicopter belonged to typical rum Ecuadorian outfit called Icarus. The pilot was Captain Apollo, but he didn't get the joke!
We flew down to Tena in the Amazonic foothills where we picked up Colonel somebody, who had the field notebooks of the geologist who had found the outcrop but who had drowned in a nearby river. We also picked up a couple of peons, some supplies and a tarpaulin.
The outcrop was in the Rio Valle Vicioso, a terrifying canyon down the eastern Andes, always subjected to bad weather. Despite being buffeted from side to side the chopper managed to land on a sandspit and we told the pilot to come back in three days (my Spanish was better than Nick's).
We had a wet night under the tarpaulin and the following day we began to cut our way up the precipitous forest following a cascading creek to the exposure site: Nick, myself, the colonel (who spoke no English) and the two peons. It was then I realised that my usefulness was perhaps not geological expertise, but as a translator!
I fell down a ten-foot hole and Nick helped me out. (I lost my Swiss Army knife, and Nick bought me another afterwards). Then we clambered up a 100-foot waterfall. Right at the top I started to slip and would have killed myself, but there was Badham's hand and that quirky smile of one who knows he has saved a life but doesn't want to draw attention to it. We reached the outcrop, but there was nothing. I later had the sample sectioned and worked out it came from the Nambija gold deposit: it had been planted to attract BP interest!
Nick told me to tell the Colonel that he was a !*&!#*!!^! and many other things. I turned to the Colonel and said (in Spanish) ‘Dr Badham is not pleased with you', and he was mortified.
We could not walk back down the river, so we spent the next two days soaking wet fishing, inventing games to play with the peons, and chatting. I got to know Nick quite well and he told me all about his accident. The permanent bad weather delayed the chopper till we ran out of food.
We parted company and I never saw him again. And then I saw his death in Geoscientist and I remembered that week. And I remembered the man. Special people are remembered.
Dr. Badham was a former Chief Geologist with RTZ and was an independent consulting geologist att he time of his death. He died of a heart attack in his sleep while working on the Baza project in Spain for Western Uranium and AuEx. Nick just had his 63rd birthday in May. He had an incredible recall of all things geological from all over the world along with his truly amazing repertoire of limericks, which he could recite on a moment's thought. When Nick fell down an old mine shaft in Spain nearly 20 years ago and landed on his head, many thought he would never recover and if he did his memory would be gone. Leave it to Nick to prove us all wrong and go on to demonstrate that even after a severe brain injury he still had most of us licked by a long shot on brain power and geological recall! Nick had a long career with Selection Trust, BP and RTZ and through these companies many of us in the US had the fortunate experience of being exposed to Nick's geologic expertise, love of life and people, and great sense of humor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week with Nick Badham by Martin Litherland (posted with permission)
I was in Quito in 1987 in charge of the British Geological Mission. David Coochey had casually asked me if I wanted to go with Nick in a helicopter to look for an outcrop of gold-bearing skarn, of which BP minerals had a sample. As the area was on my patch (Cordillera Real), I stupidly said ‘keep me a seat' or some such.
Nick arrived a month or so later. He stayed with us and charmed my little boys. He told me he had kept a seat for me as he had heard I was keen to go! The helicopter belonged to typical rum Ecuadorian outfit called Icarus. The pilot was Captain Apollo, but he didn't get the joke!
We flew down to Tena in the Amazonic foothills where we picked up Colonel somebody, who had the field notebooks of the geologist who had found the outcrop but who had drowned in a nearby river. We also picked up a couple of peons, some supplies and a tarpaulin.
The outcrop was in the Rio Valle Vicioso, a terrifying canyon down the eastern Andes, always subjected to bad weather. Despite being buffeted from side to side the chopper managed to land on a sandspit and we told the pilot to come back in three days (my Spanish was better than Nick's).
We had a wet night under the tarpaulin and the following day we began to cut our way up the precipitous forest following a cascading creek to the exposure site: Nick, myself, the colonel (who spoke no English) and the two peons. It was then I realised that my usefulness was perhaps not geological expertise, but as a translator!
I fell down a ten-foot hole and Nick helped me out. (I lost my Swiss Army knife, and Nick bought me another afterwards). Then we clambered up a 100-foot waterfall. Right at the top I started to slip and would have killed myself, but there was Badham's hand and that quirky smile of one who knows he has saved a life but doesn't want to draw attention to it. We reached the outcrop, but there was nothing. I later had the sample sectioned and worked out it came from the Nambija gold deposit: it had been planted to attract BP interest!
Nick told me to tell the Colonel that he was a !*&!#*!!^! and many other things. I turned to the Colonel and said (in Spanish) ‘Dr Badham is not pleased with you', and he was mortified.
We could not walk back down the river, so we spent the next two days soaking wet fishing, inventing games to play with the peons, and chatting. I got to know Nick quite well and he told me all about his accident. The permanent bad weather delayed the chopper till we ran out of food.
We parted company and I never saw him again. And then I saw his death in Geoscientist and I remembered that week. And I remembered the man. Special people are remembered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A week with Nick Badham by Martin Litherland (posted with permission)
I was in Quito in 1987 in charge of the British Geological Mission. David Coochey had casually asked me if I wanted to go with Nick in a helicopter to look for an outcrop of gold-bearing skarn, of which BP minerals had a sample. As the area was on my patch (Cordillera Real), I stupidly said ‘keep me a seat' or some such.
Nick arrived a month or so later. He stayed with us and charmed my little boys. He told me he had kept a seat for me as he had heard I was keen to go! The helicopter belonged to typical rum Ecuadorian outfit called Icarus. The pilot was Captain Apollo, but he didn't get the joke!
We flew down to Tena in the Amazonic foothills where we picked up Colonel somebody, who had the field notebooks of the geologist who had found the outcrop but who had drowned in a nearby river. We also picked up a couple of peons, some supplies and a tarpaulin.
The outcrop was in the Rio Valle Vicioso, a terrifying canyon down the eastern Andes, always subjected to bad weather. Despite being buffeted from side to side the chopper managed to land on a sandspit and we told the pilot to come back in three days (my Spanish was better than Nick's).
We had a wet night under the tarpaulin and the following day we began to cut our way up the precipitous forest following a cascading creek to the exposure site: Nick, myself, the colonel (who spoke no English) and the two peons. It was then I realised that my usefulness was perhaps not geological expertise, but as a translator!
I fell down a ten-foot hole and Nick helped me out. (I lost my Swiss Army knife, and Nick bought me another afterwards). Then we clambered up a 100-foot waterfall. Right at the top I started to slip and would have killed myself, but there was Badham's hand and that quirky smile of one who knows he has saved a life but doesn't want to draw attention to it. We reached the outcrop, but there was nothing. I later had the sample sectioned and worked out it came from the Nambija gold deposit: it had been planted to attract BP interest!
Nick told me to tell the Colonel that he was a !*&!#*!!^! and many other things. I turned to the Colonel and said (in Spanish) ‘Dr Badham is not pleased with you', and he was mortified.
We could not walk back down the river, so we spent the next two days soaking wet fishing, inventing games to play with the peons, and chatting. I got to know Nick quite well and he told me all about his accident. The permanent bad weather delayed the chopper till we ran out of food.
We parted company and I never saw him again. And then I saw his death in Geoscientist and I remembered that week. And I remembered the man. Special people are remembered.
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