On Darwin's sunny sandstone coastline, the simple act of passing time on a rock with friends harks back to a uniquely Territorian tradition.

Beer, blue skies, sun and whimsy — they were known as the Rocksitters, and founding members believe they're a relic of a very different place.

Katherine Hamilton from the NT Archives Service was recently searching through its collections when she came across an evocative series of photos from October 1978.

A rocksitter at East Point during an eight-day world record attempt in 1978. ( Supplied: NTAS, Government Photographer collection. )

They show an unruly group of tanned Territorians gathered on a rock, surrounded by eskies, the NT flag and choppy ocean water.

"But I couldn't find anything else [about rocksitting] in the archives collection," Ms Hamilton told ABC Radio Darwin's Lyrella Cochrane.

"Yet, if you speak to anyone, they know someone who's been a rocksitter or they've been a rocksitter."

Long-term rocksitters believe two people who once met at the rock went on to get married.

"I've even heard of people having their ashes scattered on a rock," Ms Hamilton added.

A tradition is born

In 1974, Darwin was still a relatively isolated northern outpost when Barry "Baz" Ledwidge and fellow photographers Peter Bennett and Bob Hannan cast a line off the East Point cliffs.

The photogenic stretch of cliff lines Darwin's westernmost point, where sandstone the colour of butter is hidden and revealed by the tides.

Rocksitting rules forbid funny business and encourage participants to drink. ( Supplied: Barry Ledwidge )

The fishing yielded nothing, so the three men sat down to watch the sun set over the Arafura Sea.

"We just laid back, found this lovely sandstone, and had a beer and blue skies and it sort of began from then," Mr Ledwidge recalled.

"You have to remember, in those days Darwin was smaller," Robin Davy, an early rocksitter, added.

"Nobody was watching TV, no iPhones, none of that.

"We had to make fun and that was the way we did it."

No funny business

In the stifling Darwin heat, it did not take long for silliness to take hold.

A movement took shape, and people grew religious about the act of sitting on the rock for hours at a time.

A cabinet was elected, with a minister for finance collecting $2 per member per week.

"There was one day with probably 80 people on the rock and a helicopter flying above — complete madness really," Mr Davy said.

Rules one, three, five, seven and 12 forbid funny business on the rock. ( Supplied: Darwin Rocksitters )

The first rock-sit-a-thon in 1974 was governed by a formal set of written rules.

Rule two: "For the purposes of an official rock-sit-a-thon, a rock shall be any mass of stone of no more than 30 square metres which shall be surrounded by the sea on at least one occasion each day."

But high tide could leave the rock under up to a metre of water, leaving participants stranded in danger-filled water.

Rule four held that rock-sit-a-thon teams must consist of at least six people, one third of them women.

Rule six said continuous contact with the rock must be maintained for all but three sets of five minutes per day.

Rules one, three, five, seven and 12: no funny business.

Under these guidelines, and another that demanded rocksitters drink copious amounts of beer, a world record attempt was soon struck.

Rocksitters at East Point during an eight-day world record-making session in 1978. ( Supplied: NTAS, Government Photographer collection )

Lost and found

"After a couple of years somebody from overseas said, 'Is there some sort of a record for sitting on the rock?'" Mr Ledwidge recalled.

"We said, 'Well, there isn't, but we better create one'.

"So we rock-sat for five days. We were the champions."

A local restaurant shipped in meals and cartons of beer to the voluntarily stranded people and their dog, Kojac.

Mr Ledwidge keeps a folder thick with photographs and newspaper articles about rocksitting. ( ABC Radio Darwin: Jesse Thompson )

The team was ignored by an official record-keeping company for drinking too much beer, elsewhere referred to as tea, but their efforts stoked the interest of teams in Victoria and New Zealand.

Mr Ledwidge watched as the New Zealand team sat for a record-breaking six days, before Darwin won the title back with an eight-day sit in October 1978.

The current record, set in 1980, stands at 12 days.

"Anybody would be absolutely mad to drink that much 'tea' for 12 days," Mr Ledwidge said.

Stricter enforcement of public drinking laws and the incursion of technology means the rocksitting movement is no longer what it was.

But on a Saturday night, anywhere up to 30 people still gather on the sandstone to rocksit, keeping a fondly remembered Darwin tradition alive.