On Friday I was middle management, employed and office-furnished. On Monday I was nobody, and it felt good. But I was not idle. I wasn’t expecting to get rich, but if anyone had ever told me how hard it is to find gold, would I have listened? I hope not. I wanted to feel alive. I left the security of daily office attendance in favour of adventure, danger and chance, having decided life is too short. The reality of bills to pay reminded me I must succeed in my gold-panning mission, or my bank account would remain woefully empty, but there has not been a single minute of any day that I wished I was back at my old desk. My love affair with this enchanting and almost indestructible metal has taken me across the world, where I’ve rubbed shoulders with many wise and sometimes weary wanderers. From the mountains of Scotland to the rivers of Lapland, the mighty Yukon to sun-baked Australia and the sodden west coast of New Zealand, and finally, diving for treasure on the UK’s richest shipwreck – I’ve never looked back. This is my story.
