Get n’ Dirty Dirt Fishing!

Greetings my fellow dinging enthusiast! My name is Scott Abrahamson, the amateur digger that created Abe’s Discoveries solely to document my addiction to dirt fishing.

However, I decided after watching countless YouTube videos that I could create a site and record my own adventures right here. I’d like to consider it my personal hunt log but for public knowledge. I’m not shy nor secretive about the majority of my locations. I’m a firm believer in karma and believe in sharing the love so long it keeps the passion burning. I truly hope you’re able to gain something from my work in the field, whether by entertainment or knowledge, either works for me. I’m just happy to be healthy enough to be out here as much as possible swinging my CTX 3030.

I was officially diagnosed with the proverbial ‘GOLD FEVER’ just over three years ago. The doctor (my wife) say there’s no hope, that I should just live out my days in comfort and peace. However, I did discover that the only cure for it was to get out into the brilliant Australian sun and get dirty!


Discovering My Passion For History

I’m the typical middle aged male born and raised in California until moving overseas to South Australia just over five years ago.

Since arriving into my new life in Adelaide spare time has become more abundant than I’m accustomed to back in the States. With this surplus of free-time at my disposal, I’ve taken onboard a handful of hobbies. But nothing more passionate than being knee deep in dirt, sand, and water digging up forgotten history and lost treasures.

I grew up with a mother that had a degree in history and I’ve always been a little history buff myself. Particularly WWII history as both my grandfathers served overseas and lived to tell their tales.

The Pacific Grandfather

Wow, my mothers’ father! On the surface he was a quite and reserve man serving as a front line infantry soldier in the Pacific. Fighting bravely in the Battle of Guadalcanal before being wounded in the leg by friendly shrapnel and awarded a Purple Heart with his ticket home. He’d never confront war again in the Pacific, though, that didn’t stop the ghost of Guadalcanal remaining etched upon his soul for the rest of his life.

As a young boy I remember his wartime stories were larger than life, at least the stories he told us about. Stories filled with astonishing feats of hardship, camaraderie, bravery and heroism. However, as a proud grandfather, he’d never tell us about the true atrocities of battle that is attached to such valor. And as I grew older, my curiosity about the battle grew too. This is when I started reading every book, diary, and memoirs of Guadalcanal surrounding all these heroic citizen soldiers. It didn’t long after researching, nor a take a rocket scientist, to realize the horrific nature of the battle that took place on Guadalcanal. And I can still remember exactly the first time I realized all this. A young teenager swept up by a heavy wave of emotion because I’m just starting to understand what grandpa had gone through on that tiny speck of land in the Pacific.

Post war grandpa, the man everyone knew, respected and loved, was a gentle soul. He seemed at peace and was a devoted family man that would give any stranger the shirt off his back to eradicate suffering. A man of pure integrity and principle. Traits that he ingrained deeply and early into his family of today. Grandpa wasn’t a man of large stature, he wasn’t a vivacious character, nor a man of many words. But he had an aura around him that demanded respect and when he spoke you listened up…..immediately!

To this day it still frightens me to know that grandpa, without ever saying it, took many lives during the Battle of Guadalcanal. A post war torture he’d be forced to live with for decades afterwards, up until his death many years ago.

A courageous soldier in battle and a hardened solider of civilian life. Grandpa was an amazing man with an exceptional past, a taste for the arts and a wonderful teacher/mentor. What I’m about to say is not said because he’s my grandfather, but solely based on the truth. He was honestly one of the finest human beings to ever walk this earth and the man that ignited my internal passion for history. I owe him my life because I wouldn’t be half-the-man I am today without the unspoken love of my grandfather. And his firm but fair guidance during my most impressionable & troublesome years as a young man.

The European Grandfather

Than we have my fathers’ father who fought in the European theatre as a pilot of a B-24 Liberator. A true maverick and lady killer that grandfather of mine. The ladies absolutely loved him! Young, old, fat, skinny, whatever…..they all adored him. I remember grandma telling us the first time she laid eyes on gramps in 1939, she said to herself ‘that is the man I’m going to marry.’ Funny enough only two years later in 1941 grandma called her shot and married the cheeky little devil.

Grandpa was full of life and charisma, he just had this natural magnetism when entering a room. Everyone wanted to be close to him, he always made you feel safe and secure. Plus he always had some ridiculous story (or worse, a joke) to tell.

However, in the spring of 1942 his raid into Germany came under heavy enemy attack from ground artillery knocking his Liberator from the sky. Grandpa had his left shoulder almost completely blown away by 88 anti-aircraft flak and amazingly survived the bailout.

Sadly, he was the LONE survivor of his crew and was taken prisoner somewhere near the German & France border and placed in a German hospital. In 1947 he was finally healthy enough (physically) and released by the Germans and returned home to California well after all the many victory parades had finished.

As much as he’d never admit. Those dark days during the war, haunted him internally for the rest of his life. I know losing his mates in the crash of 42′ affected him deeply even though he’d never let on about it. He wore a hard shell to protect the family from his torment, he never once talked about those lost boys or his feelings about it. During those days men didn’t show their emotions, they didn’t show  weaknesses. It was a different generation, it was a wonderful generation, it was The Greatest Generation! Our spoilt entitled millennial generation of today could learn heaps from The Greatest Generation. Learning the value of hard work, dedication, loyalty to country, willing to sacrifice their own wellbeing for the liberties…justice…freedoms we all take for grant today. Not doing it for personal accolades but doing it because it was necessary and needed to be done.

As a young boy, my siblings and I only really knew of gramps wartime past because of grandma’s brief stories. Of course, we all knew as a family, grandpa was shot down in WWII and taken prisoner of war and that was it. Until grandpa became ill in later life, that’s when he began to open up and talk about his wartime experiences and the true sadness that he’d been living with his entire life. In the end, I really want to believe that gramps did come to peace with his torment and guilt. On the surface it did appear that way. Even though a complete character, he was a very deep and complex man inside that shroud of charm.

Grandpa died in the early 90s from cirrhosis of the liver and who could blame him for drowning his misery. In my eyes, the man earned every right to die the way he wanted. Hard to watch him go and even harder to hear him break. However, in the end, he left behind a larger than life legacy on this world and a proud proud family that misses him everyday.

I Hunt With Pride

I take great pride in digging with respect. I’m a true advocate of cleaning up the public spaces that I hunt and ALWAYS fill in my plugs 100% while leaving fresh seeds in the ground as I finish ever dig. The land I prospect is now in better shape for a healthy future of our beloved parklands and reserves. Clean air, clean parks and a pocket full of history……pretty darn cool!

I always obtain permission to prospect on private land and never hunt where prohibited. I’m proud to say that I take that extra time to cut clean holes and protect the natural environment around me to the best of my abilities whenever necessary.

Prospect with pride and protect our ecosystems!

Let the Adventure Begin

Follow me as I progress my skills and techniques in the world of prospecting while sharing all my unique discoveries and creations to fellow enthusiast. I’m always looking for new tips and helpful ways to better my expeditions, not to mention, a good word of encouragement too. So don’t be shy, let’s discover what mother earth has to surrender and remember to always respect the ground your hunting.






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