Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 49 & 50 Rest Day then Blanchetown to Walker's Flat

 

Day 49 & 50: 212km Walker's Flat 4th Dec 2016

Blanchetown Hotel - Ski Club - Expeditioners - Flood wave attenuation - Floodplain - Fisheries - Cliffs - Cockatoos - Rain - Shacks - Gorge - Travellers



Rest Day then Blanchetown to Walkers Flat

Sometimes the unexpected happens. I found myself a guest at the ski club table at the Blanchetown hotel. Rob and Sally, my neighbors at the caravan park, had invited me to join their family for dinner. Rob told me that in South Australia there has only recently been limits set on how much water can be pumped from aquifers for irrigation and that the underground streams that run through the limestone beneath the farms are beginning to run dry. No wonder with so many centre pivots and few controls. Rob and Sally are from Mt Gambier. They come to the lower Murray to ski because the river is wide and it's not crowded, and because the ski club has great programs for kids.

Earlier in the afternoon, I met Warren, a Murray Expeditioner from 1991 - before there were mobile phones. He would find a payphone in towns he passed through to let his wife know all was ok. He couldn't look up the weather, or use google maps... Although it was not all that long ago, much has changed.

Warren gave me a hand to carry things down to the boat and at 8:30 I was off, ready for the Lock opening time. Barry, the lock master saw me coming and had the gates open by the time I was there. He said the peak was predicted to arrive in a few weeks, but that by the time the water reached Blanchetown only about 80,000 megalitres a day was expected, the rest being used by irrigation pumps, or absorbed into the flood plains. Barry was upset about the Murray cod deaths from blackwater upstream and asked why more water could not be released from the Darling (Menindee Lake) to provide a safe place for the fish to shelter in until the black water passes. We talked about investing in the health of the river. Barry told me that there is only one fisheries officer for all of the South Australian rivers. That person is expected to patrol the whole of the South Australian Murray, the Onkaparinga and the Torrens rivers.

The weather was calm when I left the caravan park, but by the time I left the lock chamber it had begun to drizzle. The drizzle stayed with me. By the afternoon, it had turned into a soaking rain. I pulled out my wet weather gear and continued on, toasty warm, despite everything around me being so wet. I had looked forward to the predicted 38 deg C and strong Northerly winds. It would have been the first time I would have had a day of tailwinds in the whole trip. Neither happened. The overcast skies kept the temperature down and the wind continued gusting from the southwest - straight into my face. Waves crashed over the front deck slamming into my water bottles, my second line of defence.

The cliffs downstream from Blanchetown are the biggest on the Murray and where the river runs alongside them, they have vertical faces. Big Bend is made up of two curves, one curving west and one curving east. Each runs for about 5 kilometers and both were filled with cockatoos. The cockatoos occupied small hollows and when I approached flew noisily into the air. At first I thought that they were after minerals from the cliff face, but on looking more closely, I saw that they were in pairs. They appear to be nesting in the rock rather than tree hollows. The cliffs do not have the thick sandstone layers that those upstream have, making them harder and more resistant to erosion.

Once the rain cleared for the last hour or so of today's eight hour paddle, the colors had a new crispness and depth. It was as though someone had hit the enhance button. When the sun broke through the clouds, it became steamy and hot. I shed my rain jacket and applied sunscreen. People began to get out into the water again. A ski boat zoomed past, followed by a traditional clinker hulled river launch. Interestingly the rear waves from the older boat went on for kilometers. I think it had something to do with the hull design.

Farms and properties along the river continued to be developed as shack areas. These holiday homes are called shacks because their original purpose was as places to fish and hunt from to help city people out during the depression years. The right to maintain a 'shack' is written in law. A few original shacks remain, little more than corrugated iron bush huts, but most shacks are a far cry in both design and purpose. Newer shacks are usually 2 story, with verandas and lounges from which to enjoy the river. Many modify the bank using terraces and retaining walls. All have removed the understory vegetation and replaced it with lawn.

On this section of the river, the ancient Murray Gorge, through which the current Murray flows is very narrow, little more than a kilometer. Old river beds form billabongs running parallel to the river, resulting in a rich and varied habitat for both animal and plant life, all the time contrasted by the arid hills beyond. Bends run for up to 10 kilometers and the river is wide. It doesn't take much for the wind to whip up waves to test a weary paddler.

Coming into Walkers Flat I found a spot next to a German couple, Carsten and Christiana, who have been traveling the world in their expedition grade camper for 4 years. Over a few beers I told them things I thought would interest of the Murray and listened to their stories of South America, Asia, Antarctica and Australia.

Tomorrow I make for Younghusband, after making time to resupply at the Walkers Creek Shop. All the time I am getting closer to the sea. Not many more days now.


Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 48 Morgan to Blanchetown

 

Day 48: 276 km Blanchetown 2nd Dec 2016

Apostle birds - Morgan - Houseboats - Fellow kayakers - Blackwater - Floods - Murrumbidgee River - Itldoo Station - Shacks - Crooks Landing - Halvorsen cruiser - Murray Gorges - Ecosystem dynamics - Mosaic - Ted the boat dog



Morgan to Blanchetown

A big thank you to Kev who put me up for the night, laid on dinner, beers and breakfast. Kev is planning to paddle the Murray in Aug next year. He has read all the trip reports he can get his hands on. He has even seen what the trip can do to you... (Clarkies' unique finishing photo may never be upstaged)... and he's still keen to do it. Kev has a backyard full of chooks and apostle birds. There is a constant argument going on as to who’s boss. The apostle birds have adopted Kev, they come up and sit near him and eat from his hands, even though they are wild birds.

Morgan is full of houseboats. The shores are busy places. Sounds of angle grinders, hammers and lawn mowers in preparation for weekend and summer holiday guests. Prime real estate is down by the waterside, with even a shed going for around 300,000. In a twist on the past, places up on the hill, built of solid stone, symbols of wealth in the paddle Steamer times era are a fraction of the price now.
I paddled out of Morgan with Rordon and Dale, two Cairns based paddlers who had come down to paddle the Murrumbidgee River from Gundagai to where it meets the Murray near Boundary Bend. They had to call off their trip at Hay because the black water and the amount of dead stock in the river had made it unpleasant and potentially unsafe for their dog Ted. Ted is a true boat dog. He sits on a mat between the front and back seat of their kayak. Their kayak is the best appointed that I have ever seen. Rordon made it himself from a kit. It is wooden, with fiberglass internal and external layers, roomy and cuts the water beautifully. We paddled the first 10 kilometers together until the appropriately named 'Itlldoo' Station, where they turned around and made their way back to Morgan. Rordon and Dale hope to continue their bidgee paddle once the high water has passed, but enjoyed sharing their memories of their full distance Murray paddle in 2014.

After about 15 km, the shacks (as even the luxury riverside houses are called) finally gave way to bush. Patches of development continued around high ground, which usually still had the historical name of the property whose Landing Paddlesteamers had stopped to trade at in bygone days. Most shacks have lawn down to the water’s edge and many have sprinkler systems set up. I suspect these are to discourage campers and unwelcome boats and their passengers mooring on their property. Looking for a shady place to pull in for lunch, I eventually decided to brave having the sprinklers turned on on me and pulled into Crooks Landing at Ridgeway Station for lunch break. Above me cockatoos are nibbling the seed pods of the River Myalls. A cool breeze was blowing and I soon drifted off to sleep.

There weren't as many boats to photograph today, however there were a few notables. One was a Halvorsen Cruiser, every bit the battleship in pocket format. Another was a modern version of it, with similar lines, but twice as long. There were also little gems, home built paddle steamers and 1920's excursion boats and almost every shack had a tinny.

Probably the most notable thing today was that the river headed due South, with little deviation East or West. I had a 25 km/hr headwind, which kept me on my toes, but as it was not constant, was not too bad. The valley the river runs through is actually the path the ancient Murray. A much bigger river than today's Murray. Geologists have determined that the gorges it cut were 80m deep. The ancient Murray, at first held back by the uplifted land, formed a huge lake, which in spilling, found and enlarged its original path. The deep gorges formed by the ancient Murray are mostly filled with sediment from today's river, creating the gentle gradient we are familiar with in the lower part of the Murray today. At some points, the original gorge is little more than a kilometer wide. Too narrow to meander, the river moves from side to side, leaving billabongs and sand dunes parallel to the main stream. Where the river has not changed its path for thousands of years, flood plains gradually build high enough to support black box. Where it changes more frequently, it erodes these high flood plains, creating low country ideal for red gums with their requirement of frequent flooding. In this way the two habitats can be seen to be competing within the one environment. The floodplain is both building and eroding at the same time. In these narrow gorges this creates a mosaic habitat which is a stark contrast to the arid zone either side.

I reached Blanchetown just after 5pm, half an hour after the last passage was allowed. I could almost have ducked over the barrier rope, however if my kayak had gotten stuck I could have been in real trouble. The better decision was to turn around and return to the caravan park I had seen about 1 km upstream.

The manager had just settled into the pool when I found her. She gave me a nice shady spot with plenty of green grass, near the entrance. I packed my gear into duffle bags and walked it into the park, following eventually with my boat.


Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 47 Waikerie to Morgan

 

Day 47: 338 km Morgan 1st Dec 2016

Leaving the Murray River Queen - morning light - birds of prey - Big Toulca Flat - Woodcutters Reach - Lock 2 - Undercurrents - Bartels Landing - Floating seeds - Riverleigh Station - Tree health - Tipping points - North-West Bend - Morgan - Paddlesteamers & Wharf



Waikerie to Morgan

I left Waikerie early, before anyone else on the boat was up. The sun was up, it had risen about 5:30 and I had gotten up not long after that. Keeping breakfast simple, a couple of muesli bars, some fruit and a cup of tea, I was ready to push off at 7:30.

The light was beautiful and clear. That together with the smooth surface of the water and still flow out a real spring in my step. Morning light is not as harsh as what it is during the main part of the day. The colours come out. It's when you see just how amazing the bark on red gums can be. Paddling out of town, I passed a long row of houseboats waiting for their next outing, their next passage of discovery.
Whistling Kites have been the most common bird of prey along the river this year. There never used to be so many when I was a kid, but there were more Wedge-tailed Eagles. I don't know what has changed, perhaps they benefit from having fishermen around. Once the cliffs begun, Falcons started to appear. They like to sit at the top of trees on the cliff face and swoop down on their prey, which I imagine, could be any small bird or marsupial. All the more amazing when I saw a Fairy Martin chasing a falcon. It was swooping again and again on the falcon, pecking it on the back. While the falcon tried to get away. Brave little bird.

Again today they were great names like what coverage and Big Toluca Flat and Woodcutter Reach. I guess I shouldn't of been surprised when there weren't very few old trees on Woodcutters Reach.
All along the river I can hear the sounds of people raiding their pumps in preparation for the high water. Occasionally i can hear the voices of fruit pickers drifting down from amongst the orange orchards, however I can rarely see them.

Approaching Lock 2, the navigation pass is open. I can see that the water is at the top of the weir. It splashes up in the air ominously. To go that way would be very dangerous. At Wentworth weir, a tinny was caught in the turbulence behind the wall. The back end went under first, filling the boat with water. Soon the whole boat disappeared, only to resurface 100m downstream. There are signs which slow you where to go to be in the safe passage. You keep right of the green triangle (when going downstream) and left of the red squares. There are some pretty big swirls for the first 200m. If you keep under power (keep paddling) you come through it without too many involuntary course changes.

At Bartels Landing were two old farm houses and in front of them, an eclectic collection of boats. Both farm houses had orange groves behind them as is the old tradition in the area. A little further down stream is a vineyard. In the 1980s when the Australians discovered that there were other beverages besides beer, the Riverland wine industry boomed. It expanded till it seemed that everyone wanted to get into wine. In the late 90s and 2000 the wine industry crashed and with so many suppliers, prices plummeted. Now with quality assurance, interesting boutique wines evolving and export markets established, the wine industry is picking up again. Although there were only two houses there were about 6 boats. I love seeing people's boats, there is so much of their character that you can read in them and each boat has its own story as well. At Bartels Landing was one which looked like it had a proud history. Long and sleek, it's wooden hull looked more at home in the ocean then on the river. Seeing ocean boats is a common thing down this end of the Murray, it is so wide and deep and we're not all that far from the ocean. I now have around 360 km to go - that's a lot less than 2200 and I can feel that the end is getting near.

Approaching Riversleigh Station I can see the cliffs curving away to the North. The land in between them and the current river channel is low and beginning to flood. There's a lack of trees on that flat what trees I can see seem to be dead. On the edge of the river young red gums have sprouted following the 2011 flood. This high water event is predicted to be much higher in this area so all of that low land will get a drink, indeed the water is well on its way to flooding the whole area already. It will be interesting to see how it responds in the years to come. Red gum and black box seeds are carried by water over the land from parent trees. You can pick the extent of a high water level from the line of red gum saplings at its edge. The thickness and height of the saplings and later trees gives you an indication of when that flood happened. The rule of thumb is a centimetre a year. A four centimetre thick tree germinated 4 years ago (2012), a 50 cm thick one, about 50 years ago.

I camped opposite Riversleigh Station in 2012, above the beach and under some study black box trees. It had been really hot that day, thunderstorms were building and I chose what I thought was a safe campsite. I had just set up camp and had a cooling swim when the thunderstorm hit. With it came wild winds. Lightning flashed continually and my little tent was buffeted in all directions. When it hit nearby, it left a strong smell of ozone in the air for a while afterwards. It was gone soon after it began. I remember a cockatoo screeching as it flew. From the noises it was making it sounded like it had scored a direct hit. The poor thing had been scared out of his wits. After the thunderstorm, the sun set over the now flooded lowland across the river, turning the sky gentle hues of pink and purple. The trees at the beach campsite, despite four years of good rain, did not look any better than they did in 2012, if anything they seem to have declined further. If trees experiencing prolonged stress reach a tipping point from which they can no longer recover, it is all the more important that we ensure that the young trees and saplings are growing to replace them - otherwise we will lose those habitats entirely.

There are several more straights on the run into Morgan, those opposite cliffs had a single row of old trees as magnificent as any you'll see anywhere on the Murray. With cliffs on one side and old trees on the other, this channel had not changed for hundreds of years. In other areas there was almost a total loss of trees. Saplings thrived, forming a dense layer of green, but the older trees were all gone. I couldn't work out why.

For almost all of it's journey so far, the Murray River has taken a North-Westerly course. This changes just before Morgan, where, defeated by the same uplift of land that built the Flinders Ranges, the Murray changes its course and heads South to the sea. On the river, this place is called the North-West Bend. When the current slams into these cliffs, it swirls around and even flows in the other direction. If you don't keep your eye in the water, you can be spun around.

I paddled past Morgan's old Wharf, second only too Echuca's in size. There are said to be 6 wrecks in the deep water in front of it. As the railways expanded, the paddle steamer trade evaporated. Crews waited for jobs that never came, eventually abandoning their boats.

At Morgan I pulled in a grassy bank. White floats tied together a rope and some small white signs pointed out that this was a kids swimming area. I sailed over and beached high enough to keep my feet dry. I met a couple who had travelled down from Cairns to paddle down the Murrumbidgee, but had given up because of Blackwater, the number of dead livestock in the river and difficult to predict currents. They had already paddled the length of the Murray in their beautiful home made boat. Their dog always travelled with them. It sat on a mat between the two cockpits, resting its head on their solar panel. We traded experiences and stories until Kev, my host for the night arrived. Kev is planning to paddle full distance in 2017. Now he had three people he could talk too about his ideas. I think he is going to have a great trip.

Tomorrow I will head towards Blanchetown and the last weir on the Murray; not sure where I will camp yet.


Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 46 Schultzes Landing - Waikerie

Day 46: 382 km Waikerie 30th Nov 2016

Utopian dreams - Irrigation - Oranges - Murray River Queen - Rain - Cliffs - Great Yarra Reach - Armstrong brothers - Newspaper Interview - Local knowledge - It's complicated



Schultzes Landing to Waikerie

I woke early, packed by 7 and after a cuppa, hit the river by 7:30. I wanted to make an early start so that I could spend a good portion of day poking around Waikerie. Waikerie is a special little town, built around the tall limestone and sandstone cliffs that typify this area. Like many of the other towns in the area, it began as a communal settlement, where all produce grown and wages earned were to be shared with the all residents. Like most places who did not alter these rules, the utopian scheme failed. Those settlers that remained did however establish successful irrigation schemes. The area was famous for its oranges. The bins in the main street are testament to those times: they actually look like oranges. A large farmer's cooperative handled produce until recently, where it was brought by a commercial juice company. Now local farmers have diversified. Oranges and citrus are still grown, but so too are grapes, mangos and grain crops. The community is proud of its river and settler history. The great events of floods and droughts and peoples struggle to survive and thrive in the, at times, very harsh conditions binds these river towns like a thread. A book in the local library was titled, “Where were you when the waters broke? Recollections of the 1956 flood.” And each community has pictures of when the river ran dry and tales of how they coped. Waker was a centre of local government. Its old buildings, built from limestone still stand proud in the main street. When the local pub burnt down about 5 years ago, they reused the old stone, discovering in the process, the original ceremonial stone and a dedication to the lady that performed the opening. Now revealed, it has taken pride of place in the new building. When we keep our connections with the past, and seek to understand them, we are the richer for the experience.

I was not sure where I would stay in Waikerie. The caravan park which I thought came down to the water’s edge was still under construction and the free camping areas were too far out of town to leave my boat safely. Lying awake last night, I found that the Murray River Queen, the first of the new fleet of paddle steamers built for the Lower Murray in the 1970’s offered accommodation. If I could leave my boat safely tethered to her, I thought this could be a good option. I had followed the Murray River Queen’s story ever since she was launched. Growing up in a river town, I took an interest in such things. In Echuca, we restored old boats. In South Australia, they were building new ones. This break with tradition was interesting. The owners were clever. They travelled to Europe and to places along the Murray and saw what worked and what didn’t. What were passengers looking for? The Murray River Queen was the answer. It struggled in the first few years, but once featured on Bill Peaches “Australia” program it was a huge commercial success. Two other passenger boats were built, the Murray Explorer and the Murray Princess, however the Queen remained passengers’ favourite (at least according to the history on the boat ;). I wanted to get into Waikerie early enough to check out the situation and, if it turned out not to be suitable, to have enough time to find an alternative further down the river.

In contrast to the sunny days I have been experiencing for the last two weeks, today began overcast and with the threat of rain. In fact I could see it falling on the horizon. The wind was building too, and it was not long before I donned full bad weather gear. This was not as dramatic as it sounds and it meant that in the wind and rain, which actually persisted for almost three hours, I stayed nice and warm. It was one of the occasions where I was happy that my cameras were waterproof. In that regard, I did not need to worry about the rain at all.

There were spectacular cliffs today. I was able to paddle alongside their base and hear the slap of water against their hollowed out bases, where the water has turned their solid mass into a honeycomb like structure. Great Yarra Reach ran for 12 kilometres in a westerly direction, making a slight northerly curve as it did so. It merges into Island reach, where, after a short break, the cliffs continue. Island Reach swings South into Waikerie through Cockle, then Hart Reaches, all the time accompanied by cliffs on one side. On the other are a row of the most magnificent ancient red gums that you will see anywhere on the Murray. Their twisted roots and branches like fingers caressing the air and soil. The land available for the river to meander in is quite limited. You can clearly see the high ground on both sides. In Waikerie, it is only 1km wide. This means that in times of flood, the water rises higher here than in places where it is able to spread out more. Local authorities are planning for a rise of over 3m. Towns and particularly crossings tend to be built in places where the river has a bottleneck. Bridges and ferry cables don’t have to be as long. Before either of these, it meant that stock did not have to swim as far, which meant that less would drown.

The Murray River Queen surpassed all of my expectations. My boat is now tethered to her stern, like an obedient puppy. The rooms are excellent. There is a great cafe / bar and dinner is sounding promising. I’ve booked into their Thai restaurant, which has a good reputation and the staff are both friendly and proficient. After a shower which felt like something you would write home about (they feel novel and special when you are roughing it in the bush most nights) I set off to walk around town and get a sense of history. The barman directed me to a cliff top walk to the town lookout, so I set off. A few minutes into the walk I was stopped by a man asking “Murray River Paddle?” He was one of two Armstrong brothers I was to meet that day, first Bruce and then Ian. Bruce had been following my page. It had first caught his interest when I shared a picture of a DC3 in a paddock near Barham. He has a friend who is restoring one and has one motor functioning, but is looking for parts for the second. I promised to share the location. The Armstrongs are local farmers. They have been in Waker all their lives. “Wouldn’t live anywhere else” said Bruce. He took me on a tour of his town, including the lookout and its proud buildings. He explained how the pumps had continually been improved; first steam, then oil then a kind of gas turbine, diesel and now electric. The pumps have to be capable of pumping water over 114 feet vertically from whence it is distributed throughout the region. Bruce had been looking for me. He knew I was arriving this morning and had brought in a supply of oranges and peaches from his farm. From the lookout, he showed me how the river moved through the landscape and explained how the first settlers irrigated and farmed the old billabongs using flood water and the natural cycles. Bruce set up an interview with the local paper for the afternoon and dropped me off at the local library so that I could read up on its history.

Relaxing after the interview with a cold Corona, I met his brother Ian and wife Josie. Ian was a walking encyclopaedia on river heights and flows over the years. He could also identify which trees were from which floods in the landscape and provide dates for when channels were cut. He remembered the 1956 floods, which he said were the fourth or fifth high river in a row. He also said that they would not have been as bad for the town had levees not been built on some of the land on the opposite bank to prevent flooding there. This story I hear up and down the river. Water has to go somewhere. If it can’t run over its natural floodplain, it will flood elsewhere. Many of these old levels still exist. Whether they were built with, or without permission, they have consequences for the whole community. Ian was able to tell me the story of individual trees. The growth rates don’t fit with published scientific reports, showing just how important local knowledge is to understand the full picture. This kind of intimate knowledge of the landscape is what I am looking forward to gathering on the second part of the PhD. It challenges and grounds my investigation, provides a bigger and more accurate picture of what is going on. Like Belinda Hansen said, it's complicated, but simple. Simple once you understand. Throughout this trip I have been amazed by how little it takes to get people talking about their river. It is so important to them, and they want people to understand, they want them to make the right decisions and so they want to share what they know.

Sitting on the back deck of the Murray River Queen, the sun is shining. The water is now calm, reflecting the blue of the sky. On the banks the leaves are the bright green they turn when the sunlight shines through them. In the distance I can see the cliffs I will paddle past tomorrow on my way to Morgan. I am told that they are rich in fossils and am hoping to see some.

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 45 Moorook South - Schultzes Landing

Day 45: 410 km Schultzes Landing 29th Nov 2016

Canoe trail - Wetland tour - Weir operations - Flood pulse - Overland Hotel - Hot days Cool beer - Wigley Straight 


Moorook to Schultzes Landing.

I left Moorook South early to enjoy the light and to have plenty of time to take a few detours. Like Katarapko Creek, near Loxton, this area has been developed with canoe trekkers in mind. There are allocated campsites, each with their own fireplace all along the river, and marked trails through wildlife reserves and between lakes. With the river restricted to the space carved by the ancient Murray through the landscape, billabongs and anabranches are never far away. Under the influence of the lock 3 weir pool, these are flooded. Flood runners become streams resulting in a maze of pathways through the bush. I turned into one of these near Thurk Island (just before Kingston on Murray) to explore Loch Luna Game Reserve and was immediately surprised by the speed of the current. Once I got used to hugging corners and dodging snags again, I enjoyed paddling amongst the reeds and water plants. Normally a shy bird, reed warblers were everywhere. After climbing a hill to understand the landscape, I paddled back to the Murray and continued on to Kingston.

Whilst it was fun to paddle in the small stream, I prefer the main channel. It too is edged by reeds and there are plenty of opportunities to explore its fringing wetlands.

Making good time now, I noticed a pontoon boat drifting in the direction of the weir. I picked up the pace thinking I could at least tie up the boat to a tree so that it did not come to grief. On coming closer I saw that it had people on board. It was a tour from Kingston which specializes in the wetlands. When I saw them they had been drifting, listening to birds. We had a chat about what I was doing before they disappeared into Loch Luna to continue their tour.

When I arrived at the weir, the personnel were removing the walkways from the top of the weir wall using an excavator on rails. As there was not yet enough water going over the weir pass for larger vessels, the yellow barrier floats blocked boats from entering. I tried calling the lock master, but each time got a fax. Later I found out I had been calling a number in Melbourne. I had forgotten to use the South Australian area code '08'. I tied up my boat, found the lock master and entered the lock once the gates were open wide enough. Lock Master Simon wore a big hat with a cattle tag on the bream and had worked for National Parks in Alice Springs before moving to Lock 3. He told me that he had been to a conference where they learnt about the carp virus. Apparently CSIRO is still number crushing before they bring it into the country. I thought it was ready to go. Simon had spent a lot of his free time removing willows near the lock. He had reservations about using them to prevent bank collapse. "People are people, they will let them grow, rather than managing them and they'll go wild again" he said. Simon gave me his card to keep in touch. He knows a lot of people who would be useful to talk to next time I come through. The wetlands manager at Banrock Station will want to talk to you, and my wife is involved in landcare: she knows a lot of people too.

Simon pointed out a large dead cod. It was the first he had seen. "We've seen lots of bony bream, but up until now, no cod." I said that I thought it had come from somewhere local, because I hadn't seen any for the last 5 days. After starting two weeks behind the flood pulse, I am now two weeks ahead, so it is unlikely that this fish came from those killed in the Mildura region, or further upstream. Other than the odd bony bream, I saw no other dead fish today and no sign of shrimp gathering by the edge of the river, so my guess was that it was one of the wetlands that feeds into the Murray.

Leaving Lock 3 behind, I set off for The Overland Corner Hotel. This was something I've been looking forward to for days. My memory of the place from 2012 was of a hotel in the middle of a dusty plain, accessible only by a small track through the Lignum scrub. That year had been particularly hot. For weeks the temperature remained above 40°C. The bush looked parched and had not yet begun to recover from the millennium drought. On the water, I constantly had to pour water over myself to keep from overheating. Nearing the end of the day’s paddle, tired and thirsty, I saw the most unlikely of signs. Standing on an angle in the gray mud amongst the lignum, it said hotel 700 m. How could I refuse? I set up camp in the shade of a small bush, changed into some decent clothes and trekked through the dust not really believing that there would be anything at the end of the track. You can imagine my surprise when I saw the most comfortable and quaint looking of buildings. It's 2 foot thick walls kept the inside cool and that was where I was headed. I ordered a pint and a burger and still think of this as one of my best experiences on the river.

The Overland Corner Hotel gets its name because it marks the spot where, in the days of steam and before the Murray's system of weird was developed, that paddle steamers could reliably take the passengers in times of drought. From this point on they had to take the coach. This was something of a come down. The passenger paddle steamers of the day had cooks, dining rooms and entertainment. They didn't bump around, you had your own room and you could watch the banks pass at a leisurely pace with a breeze coming off the river to keep you cool and you could take as much luggage as you wanted. In the evenings the captain would join you at the long dinner table on the top deck spinning river yarns and tales of characters he'd met. Stagecoaches were no comparison. For those people the Overland Hotel was the last point of comfort.

This visit is quite different. I do not have the high temperatures. For most of my trip the temperature has been 20s and 30s and I've only had a few days with strong headwinds and bad weather. I have, however, had floods. The Highwater enabled me to canoe past the leaning hotel sign, follow the space between the lignum bushes where the track must've been and paddle right up to the levee that surrounds the Overland Hotel. Apparently I was the first person to arrive by boat this year. I don't think I'll be the last.

After chatting with the owners and enjoying a cool beer, I moved outside to the shady garden surrounding the hotel to enjoy the massive burger they had served me. I also used the opportunity of having mobile reception to catch up with family and conduct an interview with Matt from ABC Mildura (scheduled to air at 7:10 tomorrow I think).

Rather full, I made my way down the aptly named 'Wigley Straight (Reach)'. For the next 10 km were the most impressive cliffs. The tallest being Telegraph Cliffs. It was at this point that I heard the low growling sounds of a large engine. I'm used to the sounds of pump engines whether they be diesel or electric but this was different. In the distance I could see the Murray Princess approaching. She is the biggest paddle boat on the Murray River, taking sometimes week long cruises on the lower sections of the river. I gave her plenty of room, which was a good thing, as the wash her enormous stern wheel kicked up was a little short of amazing. It could easily sink a boat and had more in common with ocean ways than what we normally see on the river.

With 10 hours on the river today I was glad to finally find camp. Only a short run into Waikeri tomorrow, where I will restock my food and enjoy a walk around town.

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 44 Katarapko Creek (Pyap) - Moorook South

Day 44: 452 km Moorook South 28th Nov 2016

Katarapko - Seven Mile straight - River Islands - Orchards - Vineyards - River stories



Pyap to Moorook South.

I was delayed in leaving my camp on Katarapko Creek (just downstream from Loxton) because I had arranged a radio interview with ABC Riverland at 9:20. When you wake at 5:30 and get up soon afterwards this seems like forever. I t did mean that I could enjoy a leisurely breakfast and was able to use up the last of my butter, which had to my surprise, lasted 4 days without refrigeration. I had kept it low in the hold and had a wet towel on top, but given the strength of the sun, I didn't expect it to last. I consciously enjoyed toasting my bread roll on my spirit burner and layering the jam on. Pure luxury, chased down by a cup of tea.

Packed and with still an hour to go, I took a walk through the sand dunes along the track that connects the designated campsites. One of them was on a midden. You could tell from the thick layer of mussel shell fragments. Middens were everywhere here, it must have been a rich environment for the original inhabitants.

I had underestimated the size of Katarapko Creek. Creek indeed. Whilst it looked as luscious as the narrows (where the river flows through the Barmah Forest), it was twice as wide as the Murray at Echuca. Everything is bigger down here.

The track that ran between the campsites had been cut off for sometime, as there was no evidence of tyre tracks. However it was covered in animal tracks. As expected, kangaroo prints showed up as they hopped across the road, but there were also tracks from small marsupials, goannas, snakes and small lizards.

I enjoyed myself that much that I had to rush back to camp to be on time for my radio interview. These interviews are important to me as not only do they share my concern about the river, but they also are preparation for the second part of my study. This trip, and in particular the photographs I am taking, set up a baseline against which to compare people's memories, experiences and photographs of what the river used to be like. The radio is a way of reaching a wide audience and the more people from all walks of life I can reach, the better.

Keen to get going, I set off and maintained a good pace until I reached my campsite for the night at Moorook South. This included the 'Seven Mile Straight', this time thankfully without headwind. This whole area is fairly densely settled, however on the Seven Mile Straight the countryside is fairly low. Billabongs and lagoons, filled because of our proximity to Lock 3 mean that all development is up on the hills and away from the river. The names of the old stations are preserved as landing names, Pyap Hut Landing, Zeppels Landing, Klaus Landing, Shiers Landing and amusingly New Residence Landing (must have been particularly posh).

Where the banks were close, I could see orange farms and vineyards. The trees on the banks below most were in good condition, but below some, they were all dead. These changes stopped at their property boundaries. What was going on there: salinity, poisons, fertilizer, ringbarking?

Moorook South has a lovely grassed camping area and the shop is well known by paddlers who have appreciated its wares after a battle down the straight, be it hot chips and coffee, or iced chocolate and ice-cream (depending on the weather). I met two friendly couples, who had travelled from Adelaide to spend a few days on the river. They invited me to share a BBQ with them and told me stories from their community at the end of the river. Without everybody’s stories, we don't get the whole picture.

Tomorrow, I will push off early. I aim to make it to the Overland Corner Hotel for lunch and a cold beer (finally). The day will take me past Lock 3, more wetlands and canoe trails, Banrock Station and more Paddlesteamers landings. History is written all over this landscape. I am enjoying attempting to read it.

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 43 Booky Cliffs - Katarapko Creek

Day 43: 482 km Katarapko Ck, near Pyap 27th Nov 2016

Bookpurnong - Riparian zone - Layers in the cliffs - Salt evaporation basin - In search of a cold beer



Booky Cliffs to Pyap.

My campsite last night was on a tight corner beach opposite Bookpurnong cliffs. The upper parts of the beach, which are now flooded, have beds of reeds. Behind them, in the shallow water, are flowering groundcovers and emergent rushes which cover the ground in a mosaic-like jigsaw pattern, broken up by areas of bare sand. These shallow waters are teeming with baby fish and all sorts of water life. The reeds protect them from the current, provide shelter from predators like larger fish and birds and are also a food source. These beds, or their equivalent are missing along much of the river. In fast flowing areas where reeds have trouble establishing, snags can be used to slow the current down on the river's edge. River Myall, or Swap Willow as it is sometimes known, provides a similar habitat when the water rises, as do willows, though these are not popular on much of the river because of the way they narrow the channel.

In Renmark, I watched how willows, reeds and rushes dampened waves from passing wake boats. Barely a ripple reached the, at times, fragile riverbank edge. With the demands we put on our rivers for irrigation, water supply and recreation we need to look after its banks. Looking after the banks reduces erosion, it reduces loss of land to farmers and householders whose properties border the river, it improves the quality of the water by filtering sediment carried by the river and by reducing the amount of soil entering the river, and, it provides habitat for the animals and plants which use the river as a corridor to travel from one place to another and is part of the natural picture which makes the Murray River such an iconic Australian landscape.

At Kaiser's Landing about halfway between Berri and Loxton, are the most beautiful cliffs. Like others in the area, its soft crumbling face tells a story of past climates. There are layers of pebbles, sand, and clay stone, each representing a different period of time. The larger the size of the stone, the stronger the current and the wetter the climate was at the time. In the middle of the rock face is a thick series of horizontal layers. These must be harder than the rest because they jut out further. In the shelter they create fairy martins like to nest. They build their nests from mouthfuls of mud and saliva, much like swallows do, except theirs have narrow turtle neck like openings. In the vertical faces beneath them, rainbow bee-eaters are nesting. They burrow into soft sediments, a round hole the only clue that they have been there. Drifting past, the cliff is alive with the calls of small birds.

The contrast to the other side of the river couldn't be greater. Where tall gums with diverse understories stood further up river, are dead trees and seemingly empty space. Little vegetation taller than a salt bush seems to be growing. This lower part of Katarapko Island has been used by the Loxton irrigation scheme as a salt evaporation basin since the 1960's. This has resulted in all but the most salt tolerant species disappearing from this part of the National Park. When the river has high enough flow that the salt will not negatively affect downstream communities, it is used to flush the salt out of the wetlands. This must be such a time and I wonder how the wetland will react. From the dead trunks, I can tell a little of what it looked like before. However, things may not be as bad as they seem. Apparently the salt marsh is an important water bird breeding area, flushing the salt to the sea in times of high flow mimics natural processes and the salinity is not as difficult to rectify as on the land.

I planned to camp tonight at Loxton Caravan Park and have a wander through town to get a feel for the place and learn a little more about its history, but the caravan park was underwater, except for a new area, which would have been a long drag of the boat and had no shade whatsoever. No fun when you are in a tent. I pushed on.

On the next bend I came across a teenager and his younger sister. They had pulled into the bank at a campsite and were collecting rubbish. In a few minutes they had two bags full and put these in their tinny. Complimenting them, they told me that they lived just up the hill and just felt like tidying up because you shouldn't leave the bush like that. What great kids!

Katarapko Creek re-enters the Murray opposite the site of the town of Pyap. Like Lyrup, Pyap was one of the communes to be established in the depression of the 1890's. Unlike Lyrup, it did not last. They had problems with the pumps, many people had an issue with working communally and the management seemed to make decisions on whims rather than after considering submissions. The town was abandoned in 1903. With no cold beer to be found in Pyap, I headed up Katarapko Creek about a kilometer, finding a lovely cool spot amongst young gums and so far is still mossie free! There are Corellas, Murray Rosellas and Grass Parrots in the trees, Crested Pigeons down by the water's edge and Honey-Eaters in the tree crowns. The presence of Magpies and Ravens shows that agricultural land is not far away. The sandy soil is covered with the same flowering ground cover as at my last site, together with pig face, saltbush and a whole swag of dry land plants. A family of Kookaburras has moved into the old gum near my camp and are beginning their chorus. They keep interrupting however as one of the young ones can do little more than squeak. Sounds like it has a very sore throat, more like a frog than a kookaburra. I guess it takes them time to develop their singing ability. Behind my camp, on the high ground, red kangaroos are feeding. I can hear Butcherbird's whistles being relayed through the forest. Taking the road that leads up there I can see lizard tracks. A Bronze Wing ground pigeon breaks cover for the safety of a distant tree, and everywhere are sugar ants with surprisingly large mounds of sand around their nests. They'll have to move camp soon. The river is rising. After a bit of a break, the evening chorus had begun. This time the frogs have joined. Like the young kookaburra, I'm not sure it's an improvement.

Tomorrow I have time to do a little exploring of the creek, before pushing on towards Moorook.

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 42 Renmark - Booky Cliffs

 Day 42: 520 km Booky Cliffs 26th Nov 2016

Pike River Anabranch - Lake Alexandrina - Weir pools - Weekend visitors - Social experiments - Wilabalangaloo



I left Renmark around 9 am. A timely departure, seeing as my caravan park neighbours had just pushed off from the bank without their starter keys, and I was able to run these over to them. They told me that they had come from Goolwa, and that by the end of the millennium drought, there was so little water in the Murray Channel that a temporary wall was built from soil to make it navigable and to keep the salt from Flooding into the river. It was a contentious topic, with both long and short term residents split on what would be best. Many wanted the sea to be allowed into the lake as it naturally used to. Others thought this would kill off already weakened species. When the drought broke in 2012, it was removed.

Around the corner is the Renmark-Paringa suspension bridge. The road hangs from the framework above it. The lifting span is opened twice daily at set times. If craft want to go through at other times, they need to give two hours notice. A houseboat was approaching the bridge at full speed and continued to do so until approached by a tinny, who must have warned the occupants that they would not fit, because their turn was even faster. I thought I was going to see the span lift, as it was almost lifting time, however, no such luck. What did go under the bridge was a large clump of cumbungi, roots, leaves and all. I had heard that there were rafts of water plants floating, but this was the first one I had actually seen.

All the way along today’s stretch were campsites set aside for canoes and facilities for campers in general. It is certainly something that South Australia does better than both Victoria and NSW. Some of these were underwater, but the toilet blocks (thankfully) were always set up high. My camp tonight is one of those sites set aside for fishermen and canoe tourers. Set amongst bottlebrush and black box there are enough sites to cater for around 100 people. From my camp I was able to watch the last rays of the setting sun light the cliffs in front of me. There is no-one else here - perhaps the roads are cut off - just me and a family of red kangaroos. The camp is on a peninsula, with water and cliffs on three sides. Frogs are calling from amongst the reeds and the cicadas contribute to a low buzz in the air. At this end of the Murray one weir pool merges into the next, creating a flooded landscape. Old river channels carry water once again and billabongs are permanently filled. For canoeists it means that they can criss cross through the bush in a web of canals, getting up close to bird life and other wildlife. With the high water, some of those canals have got quite a bit of current flowing through them, which might be why I haven't seen too many people out and about.

Some of the canals are as wide as the river itself. Pike River (which runs along the base of the high ground within which the River Murray meanders), is really an anabranch. There are signs at both ends pointing to the real river. On the higher banks, campers in caravans and old buses were a common sight. It is the weekend and Murray is no longer so far from Adelaide. A dad in one boat had 6 kids with him, having the time of their lives.



I pulled over to Lyrup for lunch and a stretch and read a bit about the town history from an information board. Lyrup was one of those communities which was founded in the depression of the 1890's when there was very little work in the cities. Many were communes, social experiments. Most did not survive the test of time, but Lyrup is one of the exceptions. They recognised earlier than other communities that a single manager was more effective at making decisions than a committee, they had more clay in their soil, which was better for farming, and they allowed outside work and money to be used instead of coupons. The information board not only lists the names of the original settlers, but also everyone who left and why. Some left because they were dissatisfied, some married and some were expelled. The names of those who stayed have become street names; there is Bollenhagen Place, Tschirpig Lane and Olson Road. Today the irrigation is still managed cooperatively and the town is proud of its history. Lyrup is an example of how irrigation existed along much of the Murray long before its system of locks and weirs were built. It is proposed in some quarters that the drought of 1912 alone was not enough to run the river dry. Pumps along the river took what was left. These events were important drivers towards national agreements, and eventually federation.

A little further down the river is a station with just as impressive a name. ‘Wilabalangaloo’. It is registered with the National Trust. You can visit the property and walk around several kilometres of tracks along the cliff top and through the gullies that divide them. Seeking an opportunity to observe the river from a high vantage point, I found a place with enough of a sandy base for me to pull in and followed a track to the top of the cliffs. To get a little more height, someone had placed a wrought iron spiral staircase at the highest point: a stairway to heaven. Although I would really rather have stayed on the ground I edged my way up the stairs, testing each step to be sure it was solid. I did not want to test the rails too much,as they might not have passed that test and I was glad for what was still there. Seeing the Lower Murray from above highlights how different it is from the Middle and Upper Murray. The river is much wider, the bends are longer, (most are two to six kilometres long) and when the wind blows along those straight sections, or big bends, there is nothing to stop it.

It was nice to see people enjoying the river. The last 1700 km have been pretty quiet.

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 40 & 41 Headings Cliffs to Renmark Nov 25

Headings Cliffs to Renmark: 565 km

Blackwater - Flood frequency - Water quality - Floating logs - Renmark - Classic cars




For the last part of the day paddling from Custom’s House (South Australian Border) to Headings Cliffs and for the whole of today we did not see one dead fish. We also observed that even at the time we left our campsite, that there were no shrimp gathered at the side of the river. This means that the black water and the fish it has killed upstream have not yet reached Renmark. It is possible that the blackwater in the river has been diluted by flows from tributaries, like the Chowilla Creek and Rufus River (Lake Victoria) and that the worst of its effects will be avoided because of it. Time will tell. However, there is no avoiding the fish deaths. There are reports that bream have been seen dead around Mildura. There are many backwaters and places where the river flows over the land, rather than simply down the channel upstream of Mildura which will have caused locally intense blackwater, so the fish deaths are not surprising. That the bream are also dying is not a good sign, they are hardier than the cod. Today, the river had not yet exceeded its banks around Renmark, however with a 30cm rise still coming from Mildura, this should be expected in the coming week or two. The question is really, how far will the effect be transported downstream? It seems that no-one really knows.

Tragic as it is, the fish seem to survive, or recolonise areas lost to their species following these events. Their numbers bounced back from the 2011 events. They should following this one too. Here, the habit diversity of the river is the key. Each stream, each cutting and each snag, offers survival niches. Were the Murray simply a channel, the whole population could be lost by such an event.

We arrived early in Renmark today and did a car shuffle from Mildura, preparing for Anna’s departure tomorrow. Since there is no public transport between Renmark and Mildura anymore, I hired a car. The car was driven to the caravan park where I am staying by a fellow who is a few years older than me. He is 58 and has been in Renmark all his life. “You know”, he said, “we never used to have black water when I was younger, so what has changed?” I agreed. In my 52 years at Echuca, black water - at least on this scale, has only been a recent phenomenon. Like most locals, he could name the years that the river had flooded in his lifetime. “We had floods in 74, 75, and in the 80’s, then 92, 2011, and now, but it is only the last two floods that have created this issue. They are no higher than those earlier floods and they were around the same time of the year. The difference is flood frequency, the number of times that the river has been high enough to flow through the forest has been decreasing. Before Dartmouth Dam was built the Murray’s level changed dramatically every year, watering its banks and rebuilding its beaches. It also seemed to flood about every 5 years. when Dartmouth was built, it doubled the holding capacity of dams in the upper Murray, where 95% of the rain in the Murray Darling Catchment falls. Water which normally flooded the forests and washed away the litter was caught and kept for irrigation. Now these high rivers seem to happen only every ten. In some places, much less. Large areas of the Edwards-Wakool Forest had not flooded since 1992 (24 years ago). Because the backwater is produced locally, it is possible that some sections of the river have been skipped. That dead fish have been reported at Goolwa, but nothing in between, suggests that blackwater has formed ahead of the main flow and highlights the complexity and patchiness of these events.

Booking into our caravan park, the ladies at reception told me that the blackwater had scared away many of their customers. “People think that we are underwater,” they said; “we’ve had lots of cancellations.” There is a lot of fear around the high river. The black water is not poisonous. It is simply dark in colour and low in oxygen. If the river was low enough to expose the beaches, I would be swimming in it - mind you, not if there were a lot of dead fish around. Though dark, the water is actually clearer than usual. I can see my paddle to a depth of around 30 cm. When boat traffic picks up at this time of the year, I can usually only see about 5cm. I filter the water to drink it using a ceramic filter designed for the muddy water holes of Africa. The filter is fine enough to take out bacteria and viruses, but not colour and taste. Most evenings I filter three to four litres of water. I drink two during the day and use two for cooking, tea and water whilst I am on land. Surprisingly, it tastes as good as usual. Most houseboat businesses have closed, citing danger from floating logs and the blackwater. This is an overreaction in my opinion. There are hardly more logs floating than in a normal year and certainly much less for houseboat hirers to avoid than when the river is full of boats, swimmers and people floating down on pool toys. The fish deaths are not pretty, but they are still novel enough, that people count them, they are not everywhere. The blackwater itself makes the river reflect the blue of the sky. Despite its unfortunate initial effect, it feeds and will kick start the whole river ecosystem. Following this event, river life will boom, because it has now been fed. Witnessing the high water is an educational and beautiful experience. Its what a river does normally, before we began disrupting its cycles. People should get to know these cycles, not avoid them.

The paddle into Renmark was a pretty one. In the morning light, the orange and yellow colours of Renmark region’s cliffs stood out against the clear blue sky. Whistling kites hunted low over the water and between trees. Darters sat on their nests - some for the second batch of chicks already. Black swans lead us away from their young. Anna found that she could imitate their call and held quite a long conversation with one of the parents. Perhaps her call was like one of the young signets.

Renmark has an impressive foreshore. As a river town, it depends on tourist numbers from Adelaide. River towns have suffered enough from the blue green algae of last summer. They don’t need to have fear of black water keep people away from a (now) rare high water event. If you haven’t witnessed it, get out and have a look. Tell your friends too. Its pretty special.

In town, an event was taking place just for the locals. Renmark High School students were celebrating the end of year with a prom. Like a debutante ball, the young couple had gone to great lengths with their preparation, but unlike the deb balls I know, the street was blocked off and couples arrived in classic cars. Locals lined the streets and cheered as each couple arrived. Each car had a number. As they approached the red carpet area an announcer described the features of the car, a little of its story and who was driving it. The driver would then step out of the car, open the doors for the young ladies and then the couples would also be introduced. There was a whole array of vehicle types, from 1950’s rockabilly style coupes, Pontiacs, Cadillacs, Mustangs, Firebirds, Holden specials from every era and Falcon 500’s. The locals voted on which made the best entrance. One young fellow, in a successful effort to impress, was in a red Bathurst Torana escorted by three Harley Davidsons. What a great way to involve, develop and celebrate community!

Visit a river town if you can. The floods are part of their story. Get out there and discover it.


Day 41: 564 km Renmark - Rest Day 25th Nov 2016


Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 39 Customs House - Headings Cliffs (near Renmark)

Day 39: 595 km Heading Rd. Renmark

Rain - Life in a tent - Natural splendour - River rising - Chowilla Woolshed - Kangaroos




It rained much of the night. It all began while we were cooking dinner. At first quite lightly, forming perfect circles on the surface of the water just beyond our boats. It was so light that we could more see the rain than hear it, but it was enough to begin taking short cuts whilst cooking dinner. Not long after we had all the ingredients in the pot, it began to rain more heavily. I suggested to Anna that she take shelter in her tent and I joined her once I had made things tidy and weather safe enough outside. With dinner on a slow burner we joked and told stories till it was ready. There is something very comfortable about a tent. Once you’re inside it is like your cocoon, your own bit of civilisation, a grown up sort of cubby house. The rain continued well into the night. In the early hours of the morning, when it stopped, the moon and the stars were so bright, the air so still that they are fixed in my memory. This is what camping in the bush is like. The night cooled off, so much so that when morning came, mist was rising and travelling in a layer above the water. Washing my face and hands in the water I could feel that it was warm. The mist continued to rise for the next hour. First it seemed to be driven downstream by the sunlight, but increasingly, as seems to happen in this part of the river, it was driven by the morning breeze.



There are so many birds here that I cannot put a name to them all. Perhaps because, like a big family at the dinner table, they are all trying to talk at once. The number of bird species reflects the diversity of landscapes that intersect here. Here the red gum and black box woodlands that have been part of the character of the Murray for most of its length are joined by mallee on top of the cliffs that jut into the river channel. Callitris pine grow on the steeper faces, grasslands and pasture on the gentler higher slopes and reeds form thick beds that stretch for hundreds of meters along the waterfront. We saw reed warblers singing so loudly they did not see us approaching, honeyeaters squabbling amongst the foliage, ring-neck parrots flying swiftly from tree to tree. Grass parrots investigating hollow logs, apostle birds moving as a group through the woodland. Spoonbills sat in their nests, messy imitations of the whistling kites, surprisingly close by. Young magpies practising their songs, somewhat shyly still. Nesting darters that looked like they were into their second sets of eggs. Whistling kites dived on fish swimming near the surface of the water. Herons picked at shrimps gathering near the water’s edge. More than once we were caught in eddies whilst starring into the trees and spun in the opposite direction to where we wanted to go.

The river is still rising here, not as quickly as the 4 inches a day that some people reported around Mildura, but steadily. It is now at the top of the lower banks and smiling into the forests beyond. When it does this, you can see that the river sitting within its natural levees, is actually higher than the forest - not as extreme as in the Gunbower-Perricoota-Koondrook Forest, but still higher than the land beyond. The nearer you get to Renmark the narrower the available land the river seems to have to travel within. Cliffs and high ground begin to appear on both sides. It was these cliffs that prompted the south Australian Government in 1968 to propose that a dam be built on the Chowilla Station that would back water up, all the way to Wentworth. The dam was eventually knocked back because of the amount of good land that would be covered, the number of towns inundated and the decision to build Dartmouth Dam on the Mitta Mitta River. Had the dam been built this most beautiful part of the river would have no longer existed.

Anna and I pulled into Chowilla Woolshed for lunch. The woolshed has group accommodation and caters for special occasions. They have pictures of wedding tables being set inside. Anna did not think this was a good idea. “You would all smell of sheep” she said. I tried to explain that they have a great atmosphere and are something completely different, which people are often looking for, however there was way she was going to get married in a shearing shed, she said. Chowilla, together with Calperum Station are part of the Bookmark Biosphere reserve. Both are functioning stations, but are run to preserve the cultural, historical and environmental heritage of the area. Rotary send school students to Calperum Station as part of a Murray Darling Basin Freshwater Research Initiative to expose secondary school students to issues along the Murray River. La Trobe University send their students there to understand the arid zone. The name ‘Bookmark Biosphere Reserve’ comes from the name of the original station in the area. Bookmark was later divided into Chowilla and Calperum. Now, they are working together to preserve our heritage, like so many other private initiatives and groups along the river. Inside the shearing shed were photos from the late 1800’s. One showed sheep being driven across a floating bridge, others showed paddles steamers loading wool. The people in the pictures looked healthy, but thin. They always wore their finest. In many of the photos they looked like they were on a picnic. They may have wished to show family how well they live in the bush, and how civilised their life is, despite the challenges. It was these challenges though, rather than the lace, that defined them. It comes through clear as day int he pictures that depict their daily life.

At Chowilla station a creek enters the river. it was not flowing quickly, but its contribution to the river was made more obvious by its colour. It pushed a brown cloud out into the dark Murray water. These flows dilute and aerate the blackwater in the river. It may be happening more often than we give credit. We noticed today that we had not seen any fish gasping for air. For the last week we have seen a small species of fish swimming near the river’s surface, mouthing at the water’s surface. We hadn’t seen any today. Like on other days, we saw quite a few dead cod, all yellow, showing that they had died some time ago. Putting these two things together, it seems that the cod deaths are happening upstream and the fish being transported down the river. This may change in the coming weeks, but seems to be what is happening here now.



We pulled into a campsite frequented by round Australia travellers on the downstream side of Heading Cliffs, about 30km out of Renmark. Here the steep cliffs retreat inland several hundred meters, allowing a river flat to form at their base. We gathered speed and launched our kayaks up on the shore, then, finding a spot between two black box, pulled up our boats and set up camp. Endangered white breasted tree-creepers flitted around us whilst we cooked and whistling kites practised their manoeuvres on the ever changing breeze. We walked up to the top of the cliffs to see the sunset, stopping to watch some young red kangaroos on the way. From the top of the cliffs, the sun set as an orange ball. Its light bathed the valleys between us in a golden light. The birds were quiet now. There was just the light. Over the river the sky turned blue and green. The swirls caused by the current picking up some of these colours on its otherwise dark surface as it continued its journey on to the sea.

Tomorrow we make for Renmark. It will be Anna’s last day with me. Having her with me has been a real highlight. It is not often that a father and daughter have a chance to do something like this together. When your daughter lives on the other side of the world, it is even more special. For Anna, it has been a real dose of Australia. Its wilderness, its isolation, the harshness of its environment and its gentle beauty. She has brought me within 600 km of the sea. Not long to go now.


Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 38 Kulcurna Station - Customs House

Day 38: 636 km Customs House 22nd Nov 2016

Kulcurna - Customs House (South Australian Border)



Anna and I had a nice brekky at Kulcurna Station. No rush to get away today. With only 30 km to paddle we could take our time. Belinda Hansen, our host showed us old photographs of the area. The owner before the Higgins family had cleared all the trees and dug irrigation channels into the limestone. The cliffs too, were treeless, both on the face and at the top of the cliff. I assume they were cleared, however since the photographs were taken before weirs and dams were built on the Murray, perhaps the natural fluctuations in river height and frequent floods did not allow trees to establish along the cliff toe.


Now, with reliable water, trees have begun to colonise the water’s edge and black box are growing back on the plains where they once stood. Many are descendants of the 1956 flood.There were plenty of big floods before that according to Belinda. Not any more. Understanding how trees got to where they are puts their current condition into perspective. We can’t replicate big floods like the one that occurred in 1956, so we have to make choices. Should we try to maintain woodlands at all costs, or would grasslands, lignum, or mallee vegetation be more suitable to the area long term?Not long after we got going we passed Cal Lal police station. All that can be seen now is its old tin chimney and part of one wall. Its toilet, still standing when I went past in 2012, has fallen down. Everything has got to go sometime... even a dunny :)P.




A few kilometres later we paddled past Higgin’s Cutting. This is one of the cuttings which is now marked as the main river. Just before the cutting there is high ground close to the river channel. Quite a commodity in the times when paddle steamers were the main source of transport in the area.


On this high piece of land two tall palm trees can be seen. It was here that Belinda’s great grandparents, Irish immigrants, settled. With her husband often away for months working, Belinda’s great grandmother had to fend for herself. They bred them tough in those days. With less current flowing, the original channel is now beginning to silt up. Reeds grow on both sides and tree branches reach far into the channel.At 658km we found the border to South Australia, at least on the NSW side. On the Victorian side, it is 12 km later. The border is marked with a large sign mounted on a tall steel post. On the NSW side it is on top of a bank. For an unknown region it is actually in a swamp on the Victorian side. In this high river we were able to paddle up to both. Our clocks reset automatically, granting us an extra half hour (at least theoretically).


We paddled on to Customs house, the old border store and only chance to stock up on supplies in the area. It is the beginning of a canoe trail through the wetlands created by lock 7 and one of the few places that caters specifically for paddlers on the river. We set up our tents in one of the campsites down by the water’s edge and enjoyed a hearty, hot, one pot wonder, cooked up on our trangia and eaten inside Anna’s tent because it had begun to rain. There is something cosy about sitting in a tent while it is raining. They are a bit like cubby houses for grown-ups. Outside, it is dark. Birds are still singing - despite the rain. Pobblebonk frogs are in their element and there are no mossies: an almost unheard of situation on this trip. With the gentle tap of the rain on the tent fabric and darkness all around, it looks like it’ll be an early night. Two more short days on the run into Renmark. I’m hoping that tomorrow this means that we will be able to find time to explore some of the wetland canoe trails this area is famous for.