in the nodules For millions of years it has grown in total darkness and near total silence. Each began as a fragment of something else — a tiny fossil, a fragment of basalt, a shark’s tooth — that drifted to the bottom plains of the ocean. Spots of nickel, copper, cobalt and manganese slowly adhered to them. Trillions of life are now half-buried in sediments that cover the ocean floor.
One day in March 1873, some of these underwater artifacts were dragged into daylight for the first time. Seafarers on board HMS Challengerconverted a former British warship into a floating laboratory, dredging and hoisting nets along the seabed, dumping dripping sediment onto wooden decks. As the expedition scientists, dressed in long pants and shirt sleeves, diligently sifted through the mud and mud, they noticed many “peculiar black oval bodies”. A fascinating discovery, but it would be almost a century before the world dreamed of harnessing these stones.
In 1965, an American geologist published an influential book. sea mineral resources, The nodules contained manganese, cobalt, nickel and other metals, estimated to be sufficient to meet the world’s industrial needs for thousands of years. By mining the nodules, we may be able to “eliminate the supply of raw materials for population growth, one of the historical causes of warfare between nations.” It can also have the opposite effect of fostering ridiculous debates about dolphins.”
At a time when population growth and early environmental movements were fueling concerns about natural resources, seafloor mining suddenly became hot. Throughout the 1970s, governments and private companies rushed to develop ships and rigs to raise the nodule. When billionaire Howard Hughes announced in 1972 that he would send a custom-built ship to the Pacific to search for nodules, there was so much hype that it seemed perfectly plausible. (In fact, the CIA had hired Hughes to cover a Bond-esque ship’s mission to covertly recover a sunken Soviet submarine.) A reasonable price, and the fizz just happened. disappeared from the industry.
In the 21st century, advances in marine technology have made ocean mining a reality again. GPS and sophisticated motors allowed the vessel to hover over precisely selected points on the seabed. Remotely operated underwater vehicles have improved capabilities and are able to dive deeper. At a time when booming economies such as China were greedy for metal, Nodule seemed within reach.
Barron saw a potential jackpot decades ago. He grew up on a dairy farm and was the youngest of five children. (He now has five of his own.) “I never wanted to be a dairy farmer, but I loved the dairy life,” he says. “I loved driving tractors and harvesters.” Having left home to attend a local university, he started his first company, a loan refinancing business, during his student years. . After graduation he moved to Brisbane “to discover the big and wide world”. Over the years, he has been involved in magazine publishing, advertising software, and traditional car battery business in China.
In 2001, our tennis buddy — geologist, former prospector and early web hosting entrepreneur David Haydon — pitched a company he was spinning up, an ocean mining company called Nautilus Minerals. I was. The Baron was fascinated to learn that the sea was filled with metal. He put some of his own money into the venture and recruited other investors.
The Nautilus was not aiming at the polymetallic nodule, but at what appeared to be an easier target. These are underwater formations called massive sulfides on the ocean floor that are rich in copper and other metals. The company has signed a contract with the Papua New Guinea government to mine sulphide off the coast of the country. (Under international law, countries can basically do whatever they want within the economic exclusion zone, which can stretch up to 200 miles from the coastline.) sounded good enough to attract $500 million of
