The Ones Who Kept Going

Olympic Dam, Argyle, Yandal and Carrapateena, and the long years before anybody believed them

The most inspiring chapter of my mineral exploration life came from a book. "The Olympic Dam Story: How Western Mining Defied the Odds to Discover and Develop the World's Largest Mineral Deposit", written by David Upton, pretty much summarised why I have "the blood" for mineral exploration. Why I have that inner need to make discoveries. The patience and the work devoted to that search are what inspire me.

Reading the book led me to seek out David Upton for a Coffee with Samso and there was no disappointment.

Like all stories, there had to be the main lead and I believe (happy to be corrected) that Roy Woodall is widely considered to be a core figure behind the discovery of Olympic Dam. Rather than labelling him as the sole "main person", it would probably be safe to label him as the visionary leader and architect who built the environment that made the discovery possible, like Ewen Tyler.

DARLING RANGE, THE 1950S

Roy Woodall at Western Mining

Roy Woodall died in Adelaide in February 2021, aged ninety. Born in Perth in 1930, he grew up through the Depression, left school at sixteen, studied at night school and finished an honours degree in geology at the University of Western Australia in 1953. He then spent his whole working life at one company, Western Mining Corporation, and retired as Director of Exploration in 1995. Dr Kathy Ehrig's AusIMM obituary credits his teams with more than 150 mineral deposits.

Reading that, I wanted to know what it cost him to keep looking.

Start with bauxite near Perth. Bauxite is the rock we refine into alumina and then into aluminium. Everybody already knew the bauxite was there. Everybody had already walked away from it. The reason was silica content, which was said to be too high for the refining to pay.

Woodall read the mineralogy and saw that the silica was mostly quartz. It matters because in the refining process it is silica in the form of clay that eats the caustic soda and costs you money. Quartz does not behave that way. The deposit had not changed. The reading of it had. WMC and Alcoa built an alumina industry out of it.

Then nickel. In 1966 WMC found nickel sulphides at a place called Red Hill, which was later renamed Kambalda. Woodall said nobody had found that type of deposit anywhere in the world before. It made WMC a mining company and it made an Australian nickel industry.

In our geological jargon

Kambalda is what we call a komatiite-hosted nickel sulphide deposit. A komatiite is a very old volcanic rock that erupted far hotter than anything that erupts today. The nickel is locked up as a sulphide, a mineral where the metal is bound to sulphur, which is the form we can actually smelt.

Being the first of a type matters more than it sounds. Until somebody finds one, there is no model to look for the next one with. After Kambalda, geologists everywhere knew what to go looking for.

Then uranium at Yeelirrie in 1972, sitting in a hard limey crust near surface rather than in hard rock. Also a first.

Then Olympic Dam in 1975, which has its own section below.

ROXBY DOWNS, 1975 TO 1976

Olympic Dam

Olympic Dam was not their only success and I do not want to write it as though it was. Kambalda and Yeelirrie were each the first of their kind found anywhere in the world, and either one would have been a career. Olympic Dam gets its own section here for two reasons. The size of the thing they walked into, and how close they came to walking away from it.

It is also the one where I can name everybody, because Woodall sat down twice in his old age and named them himself. So here is the whole chain, from the top of the company to the man turning the rig.

Sir Arvi Parbo was Managing Director from 1972 and took the chairmanship as well in 1974, when Sir Lindesay Clark retired. He is the man who could have stopped it and did not.

Roy Woodall was Exploration Manager, which is the job he held from 1968. He did not become Director of Exploration until 1978, three years after the first hole. Woodall said he handed the day to day running of it to Jim Lalor in Melbourne, who was in charge of exploration for eastern Australia.

Then the four who actually did it. Woodall named Dan Evans as the local team leader, Douglas Haynes as the geologist, Hugh Rutter as the geophysicist and Tim O'Driscoll as the structural geologist.

Dan Evans was a Canadian graduate, running the team out of Adelaide. Douglas Haynes had the idea. He had done a doctorate on copper veins in the Warburton Ranges, where Aboriginal people had brought in rich copper samples, and he proved the copper had come out of the basalt sitting on either side of the vein. It had been held inside a mineral called magnetite, and when magnetite oxidises to hematite it cannot hold copper any more, so the copper is let go and moves.

That turned the usual search around. In Woodall's words, "we were not thinking about looking for favourable host rocks, say for shales, which were known to be good hosts for copper; the strategy now was to look for where copper had been sourced in large enough quantities to form a major orebody."

Hugh Rutter, working out of Melbourne, worked out where. He pulled the Federal Bureau of Mineral Resources regional magnetic and gravity maps, noticed that the small Mount Gunson copper deposit sat on a coincident anomaly, and saw much bigger anomalies further north under deep barren cover where nobody could see anything. As Woodall recalls it, Rutter told Haynes he was foolish to keep exploring further south. He should go north, where much larger piles of the source rock were likely to be.

In our geological jargon

When a deposit is buried we cannot see it, so we look for what it does to the physics of the ground above it. Dense rock pulls very slightly harder on gravity. Magnetic minerals nudge a compass. We call those differences anomalies, and we measure them in milligals for gravity and nanoteslas for magnetics.

An anomaly is not an orebody. It is a reason to spend money finding out.

Dr Tim O'Driscoll, whom Woodall describes as a much older man, narrowed it to a spot. He predicted a deep basement structure under about a thousand feet of barren cover, and he did it in 1974, before anything was drilled. The orebody turned out to be elongated along it. Woodall said RD1 was sited where the gravity, the magnetics and the structure were best together. He also said that without O'Driscoll's structural work they might well have drilled barren anomalies and been disappointed, as many later explorers were.

Last came Ted Whenan, the driller. He and his wife Shirley took a small caravan out into the desert and drilled the holes.

The target was named after a dam a pastoralist had dug to water his stock, in the year the Olympic Games were held in Melbourne.

RD1 was finished on 31 July 1975. Esdale and others give the start as 14 June and the depth as 441 metres. The memorial plaque at the collar, pictured below, says 13 June and 411 metres. It cut 38 metres at 1.05% copper from 353 metres, under about 335 metres of cover that had nothing to do with it.

Nobody knew what they were looking at. The model predicted a basalt stripped of its copper, so that is what they thought they had, and they sent it away expecting the assay to prove the copper had gone. Woodall tells it against his own team.

Douglas wanted to see a basic rock; he needed to see it, that is what he wanted to see and that is what he saw. But we couldn't identify what this rock really was. Anyway, back came the assay. The rock wasn't leached of copper, it contained 1% copper.

It took months before Geoff Hudson, a research petrologist, told them what it actually was. His line to Haynes, as Woodall remembers it, was "I'm sorry, Douglas, this is not a hematite-altered basalt or dolerite; this is a brecciated granite!" That rock is now the type example of what we call an IOCG deposit, iron oxide copper gold, a class that did not exist before this hole.

None of which made it a mine. Woodall is plain about the first hole. "Sure, it wasn't economic, it was sub-ore grade." They were more than a hundred kilometres from any known copper mineralisation, drilling holes that cost at least $100,000 each in 1975 money, chasing a rock type nobody in the world had seen before.

Then came the next eight holes.

RD2 was on a different target and was abandoned before it even reached basement. RD3 and RD4 came back disappointing. RD5 was better. RD6 and RD7 were disappointing. RD8 gave fourteen metres at 1.2% copper. Woodall remembered RD9 as worse. Esdale and others record it as eighteen metres at 1.0% copper.

David Upton, who wrote the book on all this and who I sat down with in Adelaide for Samso Insight Episode 98, remembers the results getting worse. "They had that first hole, then they drilled another eight holes, and the results weren't as good. They were getting worse generally." The published record is more mixed than that. He also makes the point that these were physically horrible holes to drill, going "through hematite rich rocks that are just going through drill bits like nothing."

So the question in front of them was whether to keep paying for it.

I assumed Woodall had spent that year fighting head office to keep the rig turning. He says the opposite, in both of his interviews.

This is how he imagined the phone call that never came, in his 2008 interview.

Now, I tell you: in many companies, at this stage the managing director would have phoned up and said, 'You guys, stop wasting my money drilling holes out in the desert and finding nothing, thank you very much. It may be scientifically interesting, but I've got shareholders to satisfy.' But we persisted!

Later in the same interview he said, "They never once questioned our desire to keep drilling."

Upton's account is a little harder edged, and both men are worth having. He agrees the board backed them "really just without question, year after year, decade after decade." He also says the decision to go past hole nine had a name on it, and the name is Jim Lalor. "It was Jim Lalor really that said no no, we keep going, we haven't got an answer yet. We can't rule it out." And then the clause that tells you the money was not sitting there waiting. "We need to keep drilling, we need to find a way to find a bit of extra money, and keep going."

Hole ten, drilled in 1976, cut 170 metres at 2.12% copper from 348 metres, according to Esdale and others, with uranium running right through it.

Woodall puts the company's patience down to the kind of place it was, and the detail he chooses to explain it is not a financial one. He describes an earlier managing director, Bill Morgan, flying out with his wife from the best suburbs of Melbourne to the remote places where his geologists were working. Brodie-Hall and Arvi Parbo came out too, he said. Mrs Morgan would sit with the young geologist's wife, who probably had two small children, and talk to her. Woodall said this was the culture that bred success.

Upton lands on the same thing from the other end. He nominates Sir Lindesay Clark, who was at the company for forty years, as the culture in one man, and tells a story about him. People would suggest to Clark that he go and talk to the production side for a while. "Lindesay Clark would go and do that for a day, and then he'd go back to talking to the geologist for the whole week."

Professor Richard Stanton, interviewing him years later, put the drilling to him directly. "This is, by ordinary standards, almost perverse persistence, isn't it?"

Woodall answered.

We now know that some of those drill holes went quite close to very high-grade ore and we were just unlucky. But I am sure that many, many people and many, many companies have been in this situation looking for an orebody, having spent a lot of money, and have then walked away after drill hole No. 9! When do you stop?

Even RD10 was not sitting on the orebody. Woodall says it was a kilometre or more away from it. Upton goes further and says the not-knowing ran on well past hole ten. "Even when they went on from number ten, that was still another ten holes that they really hadn't found the ore body... That hole number ten, it hit a little pot of mineralisation that was not near the body they would eventually find." He was speaking from memory more than a decade after writing the book, and I have not been able to match that against the published drilling record, so take it as his recollection rather than as a count. Either way the vindication was not the moment the core came out of hole ten.

Upton also says how narrow it was. In his telling the programme had a set budget, and without an extra fifty metres of drilling they would have got nothing and moved on. His own summary of it is the line I keep coming back to. "There are a million ways to miss an ore body. There are a million ways to miss Olympic Dam. But they didn't miss it."

The South Australian government's resource figure for Olympic Dam as at 30 June 2024 is 9,720 million tonnes at 0.59% copper, 0.20 kilograms per tonne of uranium oxide, 0.26 grams per tonne gold and 1 gram per tonne silver. It is the largest known uranium deposit in the world and it is in the top handful of copper deposits. BHP has owned it since taking over WMC Resources in 2005.

Woodall would not take the credit for any of it. He said that people often told him he had found Olympic Dam, and that of course he had not. In his telling, Ted Whenan the driller found it. The team working under Woodall found it too, because they told Whenan where to drill.

THE KIMBERLEY, TO 1979

Ewen Tyler, Thomas Reddicliffe and Argyle

I have been lucky enough to sit down with one of these people and ask.

A couple of years ago I spent an afternoon in Melbourne with Ewen Tyler, who is called the father of the Argyle diamond mine, and recorded it for the Exploration Discovery Series. That conversation is published as The Father of the Argyle Diamond Mine. He was ninety-five. Argyle closed in 2020.

Here is what he told me about the years before that.

He had lost his backing. "I'd lost all my credibility in London." His partners were running out of patience. They had spent $1.6 million and, in his words, "they would have described as a futile search." He said the London office "thought diamonds in Australia was a pretty stupid thing for us to be doing when we could make all this fortune in North Sea oil." When I asked him about the things that had not worked out, he did not soften it. "Why, they nearly sacked me."

I'd lost all my credibility in London.

The idea itself came from a lecture. Rex Prider at UWA had told him as a student that certain odd rocks collected in the West Kimberley were related to the diamond-bearing rocks of South Africa. Tyler carried that idea with him for years. Then, when the question came up of where in Australia you would even start looking for diamonds, he had an answer nobody else had.

The joint venture set out to cover around 196,000 square kilometres of the Kimberley, sampling creeks by helicopter. Tyler's account of what they found first is a list of near misses. A kimberlite dyke at Skerring without enough diamonds in it. A pipe, also without enough. Then the Ellendale field, which they bulk-sampled and built a plant on, and which did not pay. In Tyler's words, "we thought we were home and hosed but there was not enough revenue per ton of rock."

In our geological jargon

Kimberlite is the rock that carries diamonds up from deep in the earth. It is named after Kimberley in South Africa, which is a coincidence of names that has confused people for fifty years. A lamproite is a different rock that does much the same job, and at the time almost nobody accepted that it could.

I have a second account of those years, because I also sat down with Thomas Reddicliffe, who joined Ashton Mining in 1976 and was on the ground for it. He remembers the Ellendale field as bigger than Tyler does, "90-odd pipes", where Tyler puts the bulk sampling at around forty-six. Take both as each man remembers it. What killed it is not in dispute. In Reddicliffe's words, "it soon started to come out that the grades were low, and then when the mining engineers got involved they did the numbers and shook their head."

Reddicliffe also tells the part of this story that I think is the most interesting thing in either interview, and it is not persistence. It is ignorance.

Ellendale was success through ignorance, because nobody knew you couldn't find diamonds in lamproites.

De Beers, he says, had walked past that country for exactly that reason. And the East Kimberley, where Argyle turned out to be, was scheduled to be sampled last if at all, "the fact that people didn't think you would find kimberlites in there... so it was considered to be non-prospective for diamonds."

Asked what they thought they were looking at, he does not dress it up. "To be quite honest, really we didn't know what a lamproite was. But equally we probably didn't know what a kimberlite was either. We were just looking."

Then in 1979 the laboratory reported diamonds in Smoke Creek, from a sample collected there. Tyler's account of what followed is that two men walking up Smoke Creek found an anthill with a diamond sticking out of it. Reddicliffe, who arrived the following year and was kept off the pipe itself on heritage grounds, has heard that story and attributes it to Grant Boxer rather than to himself. What he will confirm from his own boots is that the diamonds were lying there. "You could pan there and find diamonds easily." He picked one up himself.

That was six years after sample M109. Tyler says that the whole time he was fighting the people who had started with him, just to keep the team together.

YANDAL, FROM 1978

Mark Creasy

Mark Creasy came out from England, trained as a mining engineer, and by his own account has been at this since 1968.

The Australian Prospectors and Miners Hall of Fame reproduced an interview he gave in 1995. This is how he described the work.

"All I know is I starved for years."

"People use terms like 'gold fever' but that's a lot of bullshit... I've never been conscious of being feverish."

And then the truest description of exploration I have read from anyone.

It's intellectually stimulating, physically arduous and financially, usually disastrous. But every now and again someone has a big win.

He found two nuggets in the late 1970s, one of 46 ounces near Mount Magnet and one of 86 ounces near Laverton, and sold them with other gold for $60,000. That $60,000 funded everything that came after. He decided the Yandal greenstone belt was worth having in 1978 and then waited, because the ground was held by other people, until they dropped it. He panned every creek across it himself before he ever put a geochemical survey over it.

In December 1991 he sold most of his interests in Bronzewing and Jundee to Great Central Mines. He sold the rest about two and a half years later. Published figures for what he received range from around $115 million to $173 million depending on who you read, and the structure was staged rather than a lump sum. Bronzewing went on to produce more than three million ounces of gold. Jundee is still producing today.

By my count that is about twenty-three years from 1968, when he says he started, to the first sale, and about thirteen of those years at the sharp end.

As late as 2018 he was telling The West Australian he had no intention of retiring and that he would "die with his boots on."

CARRAPATEENA, JUNE 2005

Rudy Gomez

Rudy Gomez died in February 2026, aged eighty-nine. He is the one on this list who was not a geologist at all.

He was born in the Philippines and grew up in Baguio City. According to his InDaily obituary, he came to Adelaide as a Colombo Plan scholar. He was a mechanical engineer and then an extractive metallurgist, which means his profession was getting metal out of rock rather than finding it. He designed and commissioned concentrators, the plants that crush ore and separate the valuable minerals from the waste. In his own words, geology "became necessary in these projects because knowledge of the quantity and quality of the ore proceeded by the concentrator was necessary to design the concentrator."

He was not looking for copper. He applied for ground in the southern part of Lake Torrens in South Australia because he wanted salt for a proposed petrochemical plant at Port Bonython. Then, reading in the Department of Mines library, he became interested in the copper potential of the Gawler Craton.

He took the Carrapateena ground in about 1996. Some accounts say he held exploration rights in the area from 1989.

Prominent Hill, the other big iron oxide copper gold find in the Gawler Craton, has its own story, and the team that found it told it in their Coffee with Samso.

The orebody sits under about 470 metres of flat-lying younger rock that has nothing to do with it. The anomalies were faint. Carrapateena's gravity anomaly was around 2 milligals against 17 at Olympic Dam, and its magnetic high was around 200 nanoteslas against roughly 1600. In plain terms, the instruments were telling him there was something down there, and telling him the signal was about an eighth of the size of Olympic Dam's.

Then it got harder. Native title negotiations stalled and he took the matter to the Federal Court himself in late 2000 to get a determination. MIM withdrew from the joint venture. Terramin withdrew soon after.

By 2005 he was on his own with a state government drilling subsidy under the PACE scheme, his superannuation, and money from friends. Published accounts of how much differ, from $180,000 in total to $160,000 of his own super plus $80,000 each from two friends. He used an Adelaide water-bore driller, Underdale Drillers.

He got two holes.

The first one, CAR001, was later found to have been sited within 100 metres outside the breccia complex that hosts the deposit and less than 200 metres from the main copper sulphides. It missed.

The second one, CAR002, finished in June 2005 at 654 metres. Published intersections for it vary with the cut, from 167 metres at 1.9% copper to 222 metres at 1.56% copper, all starting around 474 to 476 metres down. In February 2026 the South Australian mining minister, Tom Koutsantonis, said Carrapateena sustains a workforce of around 1,800 people. It is now part of BHP's South Australian copper business.

Six months after that hole he gave a presentation and told the room how he thought about exploration. He was quoting a past president of the Manila Stock Exchange.

Mineral Exploration is 40% Technical and 60% Luck.

THE REAL CURRENCY

Credibility as the currency

None of these people spent money first. Woodall was on a salary. Tyler was raising other people's capital. Creasy was living off the sale of two nuggets. Gomez put in his superannuation, which is real money, but the larger cost was the years.

What they all spent, for years, was credibility.

Tyler said it out loud. "I'd lost all my credibility in London." That is the currency. It is the thing you have when people take your calls, back your judgement, and let you spend another year on the idea. Every year that passes without a result, you spend a little more of it, and you cannot borrow more.

Woodall is the one who changed my mind while I was writing this. I started out assuming he had spent 1976 fighting for his budget. He had not. Nobody at WMC tried to stop him, and when he explains why, he describes the same currency from the other side of the desk. His people had already found the first world-class Archaean nickel deposit anyone had ever found, and a world-class uranium deposit of a type nobody had ever found. He said he had built up a high level of confidence with the board and with senior management.

So he had banked it before he needed it. Olympic Dam is what he spent it on. That is the same transaction Tyler was making in London, with the difference that Tyler was overdrawn and Woodall was not.

Gomez's version was the two partners walking away and him standing in the Federal Court on his own.

Creasy's version was starving for years.

Here is the part that I think matters to anyone reading this who has never been near a drill rig.

Society does not measure a life this way. Society measures a life by credibility kept. A straight line. A title that goes up. Progress you can show at Christmas lunch. The whole apparatus is built to reward people who never have to say "I have nothing to show for the last six years, and I would like another year."

Tyler, Creasy and Gomez each had to say that, more than once, to people who were entitled to say no.

A CAUTION

Survivorship and stubbornness

I want to be generous here before I draw a line, because it would be easy to turn this into a story about stubbornness, and stubbornness on its own is not a virtue.

For every Tyler there are people who held on to an idea for twenty years and were simply wrong. We do not have their obituaries. That is survivorship, and it is worth naming, because the lesson "never give up" is not the lesson.

Tyler is better on this than I could be. I asked him what makes it work.

"You have to accept success with failure. Sometimes you're going to strike the lucky chord and you're going to be successful, but there's no formula for success. I believe you make your own luck."

He went straight on.

"I believe the business is about people."

He then talked about Sir Maurice Mawby knowing the name of every miner underground at Broken Hill. He said that if you think you are the boss and you have great ideas of your own importance, it is time you forgot that. "The bloke actually at the coalface is just as important." He said a good boss should know when that man's child has measles.

He also told me about Maureen Muggeridge, the geologist who collected the sample that started it and who later found the diamonds in Smoke Creek. She died on a sampling trip. His words were, "God bless her soul, she died collecting a diamond sample."

Kathy Ehrig, a BHP geoscientist who has worked at Olympic Dam since 1992 and wrote Woodall's AusIMM obituary, ended a public lecture the same way. "We do not go down this path alone. I have built on the shoulders of my predecessors at Olympic Dam."

So it is not stubbornness. It is a long belief, carried by someone who is good enough at the technical work to still be worth backing, and generous enough that other capable people stay with them while it takes years.

IN CLOSING

Why I wrote this

These men worked with a fraction of what an exploration geologist has today. No satellite imagery sitting on a desktop, and no cheap multi-element geochemistry to lean on. What they had was patience, and the willingness to keep going long after the evidence had stopped being encouraging. People call the result luck. I think they manufactured it, slowly, out of work.

I did not write this to tell anybody to go and be a prospector.

I wrote it because of the shape of these lives. Every one of them looks, from the outside, at almost every point along the way, like a person who is not getting anywhere. Tyler in his forties, with his London backers losing patience. Creasy at thirty-four, waiting for other people to drop the Yandal ground. Gomez in his sixties, with a court application and two joint venture partners who had withdrawn. Woodall's team drilling another barren hole.

We are all told to build a career that reads well as a straight line. Most of the work I admire has not looked like that at any point while it was happening. It only looks like a line afterwards, when somebody writes the obituary and the twenty years of nothing turn into one sentence.

Ewen Tyler was ninety-five when I sat with him. Argyle had already closed. He had nothing left to prove to anybody.

He said, "I'm still desperate to find the platinum deposit in Australia."

That is the bit I keep coming back to.

So here is my question for you. What have you been quietly working on for longer than you would comfortably admit to anyone, and who is still backing you while you do it?

---

A note on the sources

Three of the sources here are Samso's own, and they are the ones nobody else has. Ewen Tyler, recorded in Melbourne for the Exploration Discovery Series. Thomas Reddicliffe, who joined Ashton Mining in 1976 and was in the Kimberley for the search, recorded in 2023. And David Upton on Olympic Dam, recorded in Adelaide and published as Samso Insight Episode 98 in September 2022. Upton wrote "The Olympic Dam Story", published in 2010 with a foreword by Sir Arvi Parbo.

All three come from video captions. Punctuation has been added, filler words such as "you know" and "um" have been removed, and other gaps are marked with an ellipsis.

Roy Woodall's account comes from two oral history interviews he gave. The direct quotations are from the one recorded by Professor Richard Stanton for the Australian Academy of Science in 2008. The other, recorded by Eleanor Swent for the Regional Oral History Office at the Bancroft Library, University of California Berkeley, in January 2004, is paraphrased. His career details come from the AusIMM obituary written by Dr Kathy Ehrig and from the 2011 ATSE Clunies Ross award video. The hole-by-hole record at Olympic Dam is from Esdale and others, a geophysical case history published by the Australian Society of Exploration Geophysicists in 2003, with Geoff Hudson's 2022 paper to the Australasian Mining History Association for the petrology. The resource figure is the South Australian Department for Energy and Mining's, as at 30 June 2024. Where Woodall and Upton describe the same events differently, and on the funding decision they do, I have given both rather than picking one.

The Mark Creasy quotes are from an interview reproduced by the Australian Prospectors and Miners Hall of Fame and from The West Australian. The Rudy Gomez material is from his own 2005 conference presentation, from T.M. Porter's review of the deposit, and from the OZ Minerals announcement of March 2011.

Where published figures disagree, I have given the range rather than picking one. That applies to what Mark Creasy was paid, to the Carrapateena intersection, and to what Rudy Gomez put in himself. Where two of my own interviewees remember the same thing differently, as Tyler and Reddicliffe do on the size of the Ellendale field, and as Woodall and Upton do on the Olympic Dam funding, I have given both and left them unreconciled. Woodall's own recollection of the barren holes does not always match the drilling record published later, which is his point as much as mine. He worked for a man who held that if it was not written down it did not happen.

The Words According To Samso is about sharing the experiences of decades in my journey. These are stories and news I have heard, brought back to life in 2026. Many of them have been told before, and The Words According To Samso is now bringing them back to readers, to share with those interested in 2026 and with future generations. No tickers, no research, no opinions on what anyone should own. samso.com.au