A journal of canoe expeditions along the rivers of Australia's Murray Darling Basin using photographs, stories and information to highlight the beauty, challenges and history of these rivers and the communities they flow through.
Just before I was about to fall asleep, I heard an unusual noise. A sort of heavy thump, then lighter thumps. This repeated itself again and again. In my drowsy half conscious state it took a while for me to realise that this must have been a kangaroo moving near my tent, but why the pattern? I hazarded a look. As I stuck my head out the tent door, a young joey, too big for the pouch, but too gangly and uncoordinated to be considered grown, stared back. I caught it in the act of hopping forward, as if daring itself how close to the tent it could go, before losing its nerve and reversing its direction with one big double foot plant. It must have considered this a good game. Mum, at the place the joey kept returning to for courage looked non-plussed. Both decided it was time to move on when they saw my face. With this happy image in my mind and the sound of a fresh breeze in the branches of the young trees above me, I slept well.
Kookaburra as guest for breakfast.
I was treated to a guest over breakfast, a big kookaburra flew down, landed heavily and looked expectantly at me. He picked up a bit of discarded salami skin and dropped it in disgust. Kookaburras have a way of looking at you, like 'I have always been your friend'. In that they have something in common with dogs. So, my pet dog sat in front of me and looked expectantly. It wasn't along the line of 'can I have something good' but rather, 'when are you going to give it to me?' How could I refuse? I peeled a thin slice of fresh salami and offered it to my old friend (as he would have me think). Straight away, it got down to business, determined to break the back of the salami slice. The kookaburra thrashed the salami on the ground. Finally satisfied that it was dead and would not wriggle anymore, he swallowed it and flew off - only to return 5 minuted later and give me the look once more. He was lucky twice, but then that was enough. It was time to get going.
The old pumping station at Psyche Bend, and a tree, both after the same water.
The new pumping station at Psyche Bend, and a tree, both after the same water. This tree is not doing as well. Efficiency at what cost?
The breeze from the night continued into the day. It seemed to be part of the weather change. When the river swung North-East the wind was behind me, when it swung South West, it was a full on head wind. Being the Murray, it did both. Gusts of 35 km an hour whip up decent waves on long bends (or reaches as they are called on the charts) and straights. Running before them was no issue, but pushing into them meant holding the paddle tight and ensuring nothing was loose on deck. They broke all around my river rat mascot on the bow and occasionally, over the deck - a test for the water proof seals on the front and rear compartments, which they passed hands down: a good feeling when thinking ahead to the big straights in South Australia and Lake Alexandrina.
This cute little paddle steamer reminded me of a duck trying to hide in the bushes.
The Mundoo
PS Rothbury
The Coonawarra
PS Melbourne: sister ship to the PS Canberra at Echuca.
PS Avoca
Entering Lock 11 at Mildura.
Leaving the lock at Mildura, my third. Thank you Jeff. :)
In the Murray Marathon, we used to say that Swan Hill is a killer, you start seeing houses from ten kilometres out and think that the finish is just around the bend - and it isn't. The same thing happens again and again. The seasoned campaigners know it, but new paddlers, which included many members of our school team accelerated so many times (to put in that good finish and leave a good impression) that by the time they got to the real finish, the best they could do was to stay in time with each other. Chalk and cheese. Mildura is 4 times worse. The houses and signs of civilisation begin forty kilometres out. I had my charts, I knew how far I had to go, but it did drag on.
Eerie heights. Eagles nest with a view - just how they like it!
As did an humming noise. I looked around, but their was no boat. Perhaps trucks on the highway? Kilometre for kilometre it was there, and getting louder. After six kilometres of paddling I turned around to see a large house boat gaining on me. I had my pride. Never in my life had I been overtaken by a houseboat! I was sure it had made ground whilst I had been battling head winds in the last few kilometres. Putting in more effort I decided to test that theory. It did not take long however, to realise that the vessel was faster than I was. At least I could make it difficult. About a kilometre later I acknowledged defeat and waved to the passing juggernaut. They gave a happy toot of their horn, waved and then looked ahead. One obstacle past, they concentrated on their next, which was probably to get their houseboat back on time and avoid the late fee. Fair enough, but I wasn't gone yet. I accelerated into one of the trailing waves of the boat and wash rode it for a further two kilometres. My rating almost doubled and speed picked up about 5 kilometres per hour, but once riding the wave it was manageable. Apart from the fun of riding the wave, it was also worth it for the surprised look of one of the passengers when he realised I was still there. Fun, but not sustainable. I let the juggernaut go on, and settled into my usual pace, amazed that in the fun of the chase all my aches and pains had disappeared. With the realisation that I still had twenty kilometres to go they soon reappeared. Not that positive thinking ever affects how we feel, does it?
Racing a houseboat. 250 horse power vs muesli and two fried eggs. It was quite a bit faster than me, but took about 6km to catch me and when it did, I rode its wash for another 2 km. This photo was taken whilst I was wash riding. Gotta have your fun!
Black swans
Gol Gol is the New South Wales equivalent of Mildura and the town immediately upstream of it. Unlike Victoria, where the first 3 chain (about 60 metres) is freehold / public land, in New South Wales land owners own the bank 'at least to the water's edge'. This means they can also develop and invest with security. In Gol Gol, investing takes on a whole new meaning. I have never seen such extravagant waterfront properties. On one stretch, not only did the houses have decks extending over the water, but private concrete boat ramps with tiled retaining walls and built in down lights like in a pool. In between these expensive looking jetties they made private beaches. The sand must have been brought in, because it would not stay there naturally. One property even had little toy excavators for their kids to play on. The consistency of the water level, maintained by the weir in Mildura made the investment on their shaded foreshores possible and practical, but there must also be an awful lot of money coming in from somewhere.
Some like it rough. The NSW side of the bank leading into Mildura is lined with 'villa noble'. Others were much more extravagant than this one near Gol Gol. Whilst some sort to blend in with the landscape, others tried to recreate the French Riviera.
Mildura bridge. A sign of things to come for Echuca.
I read that 80% of Victoria's table grapes come from Mildura, and 70% of its carrots. Added to that the region is key to citrus fruit production. They like to think of themselves as the food bowl of the Murray-Darling Basin. The house may be industry leaders, or perhaps they were expensive holiday homes designed to impress and maintain important clients. Mildura is an interesting social and geographical venture. The natural land type here is mallee. Following a prolonged drought of 1880's, the then water minister Alfred Deakin, looking round for a way to secure Victoria's agricultural industry heard of an irrigation scheme in Canada pioneered by the Chaffey brothers. He visited Canada and persuaded one of the brothers to return with him. He was given a derelict sheep station and £300,000 to invest with the task of developing irrigation infrastructure within twenty years. Chaffey said that with water he could change the dry dusty mallee into a productive regional centre as green as the most luscious garden. He set about building channels and pumping stations. Deakin and Chaffey's plan became a reality. Irrigation has transformed the landscape. With its rolling vine covered hills, olive trees and citrus orchards it looks quite European at times. Set out in numbered streets and named avenues, all in grid formation, the city planners did not want to fit in with the environment, they wanted to tame it, mathematically, scientifically and geometrically. In contrast to the disorderly growth of gold fields and many of the city capitals, this was to be a planned city; quite possibly, Australia's first.
Now, almost five generations later, we have come to realise that nature's resources are finite. In Australia, water is often said to be our most precious resource. What is taken away in one place is not available somewhere else. Following a long period of drought (El Niño) where the river did not reach the sea, irrigation in the Riverina virtually stopped, the Coorong was five times saltier than the sea and Capital city of South Australia was left wondering how it could ensure that its inhabitants had a reliable source of drinking water since the river ceased to flow in its lower reaches, the government brought in legislation called the Living Murray. The aim of the legislation was to return the health of the river basin. As a local Mildura business, Trentham Estate Winery puts it,
"The long term viability of the Sunraysia District and horticultural ventures such as the Trentham Estate is intrinsically linked to the health of the Murray River.
Environmental problems such as poor water quality and algal blooms could have a devastating impact on industries in this region through increased water treatment costs and the loss if the 'clean green' image in the important export markets."
Trentham Estate Winery. Boats can pull in and sample the wines, eat a meal at the restaurant, or lounge under the shade sails and enjoy a coffee with a view of the river.
It is no longer a matter if how to get the water onto the land, but how much and how efficiently. It is part of getting to know and managing our country's resources better, wiser and for the benefit of all Australians.
I slept to the gurgling of the river as it flowed over the rocks around St. Helena Island. In the back of my mind, I remembered that when the Campaspe River was in flood it made a similar sound as its rising flow clawed at the trees, swirled around the bridge supports and lapped ever higher at the road in front of our house. The night the river was to peak I met my mother at 3 am in the lounge, the front room of our house. She wanted to know if it was in the front yard already. Camping on the edge of the river has its pleasures. Being caught by a rising river is not one of them. But I knew that the river I was on would not rise that fast. I had caught up to the rising river and passed it. Now it was rising behind me - but not that fast. I was above the wash zone and safe.
Kerribee Station. 932 km.
Having said that it is a good thing I don't sleep walk. One of the doors of my tent opened directly onto the river. This afforded a great view, both of sunset and dawn. The evening sun lit up the red sandstone in the cliffs opposite my tent spectacularly, contrasting them to the building rain clouds behind them. In the morning they were bathed in a gentle golden light. I am a sucker for photography, but I did not try and capture everything. Some of it I just enjoyed.
River landscape.
Fisherman's shack.
My campsite backed onto the Kemendok Nature Reserve. In Nov 2013 is was the only National Park which contained riverbank landscape in NSW. It was left in good condition by previous landholders and sold to National Parks in 1987.
Kemendok Nature Reserve was originally part of Tapalin Station, a squatter’s lease which incorporated most of Mallee Cliffs National Park and stretched as far north as
Prungle Station. John and Mary Grace are thought be the original leaseholders. The property passed through various families and was purchased in 1965 by Jim Maynard who sold the land, which become Kemendok Nature Reserve to the NSW NPWS in 1987. Kemendok Nature Reserve Management Plan.
The contribution of farmers to the maintenance of our bush is little known and underestimated. On the beach were emu and wallaby tracks and coming down to the water to drink were all manner of birds. I identified a family of white-eared honey eaters and a black fronted dotterel. I had never seen dotterels on the river before, though my bird guide says they occur along all inland waters. They are shy and quick to flee, making them very hard to identify. They have quick little legs and prefer to catch insects by running after them. When they do fly they have swept fighter plane-like wings.
Mallee Cliffs 938km.
Mallee Cliffs 938km.
It was a great day for birds. On leaving a couple of pelicans came gliding in. They are such massive birds, their shadow sent all the others crazy and flying in all directions. The pelicans landed just below the rock reef. Presumably it is good fishing there. Muscles aching, not yet warmed up, I eased into the first long straights, so common on this part of the river. A family of black falcons did not appreciate my presence and made quite a racket till I passed by. Later in the day, I saw blue winged parrots, (a delicate much smaller version of the familiar Murray Rosella), and a juvenile sea eagle with its white head and long white legs. I couldn’t see where it's parents were.
After fifteen kilometres I passed by Nangiloc. You wouldn't know you were passing a town except for the concentration of boats moored and the sign painted on the local water pump shed "go saints!" Each of these little towns seems to have at least one of its own paddle steamers. I used to think that paddle steamers were restricted to Echuca and other large river boat towns wit a loud and celebrated history. It was a real eye opener.
The Bungunyah at Nangiloc.
Since Torrumbarry, I have mostly been passing through forest and today was no exception, however every now and then farmland was obvious. Other human features were also a welcome sight after so long without people. The old pub on top of the Mallee Cliffs was impressive. The mail coach from Gol Gol used to stop there. The cliffs themselves were the highest I have seen so far. As I neared Mildura, I saw more and more people. I was now close enough for day trippers, houseboats and encountered my first speed boat since Torrumbarry and loads of fishermen. The difference between the fishermen yesterday and today was that today many had their families. I dare say the language improved also.
Busboat provides a shady place to fish from. Karadoc. 923 km
The Miralie. Karadoc 923 km.
The Evangaline. Karadoc. 923 km
The Kulkyne. Karadoc. 923 km.
Karadoc campsite.
More from this expedition:
Google+ Murray River Paddle Echuca To The Sea Photo Album
After a cuppa, I bid farewell to my Bendigonian hosts and hit the water. It was 7:30 am, a good early start. I really could have done with a sleep-in after such a short night, but getting on the water early gives more opportunities for rest during the day and I could take it easier. Time on the water; time paddling, is more important than speed in order to get kilometres done. On a training run in the preparation phase for this trip I had wanted to catch some kayakers who had gotten on the water five minutes before me. It had taken half an hour and six kilometres of hard paddling. Five minutes earlier is six kilometres of easy paddling. I needed that this morning. My muscles were stiff and seemed to have no energy and my head was giddy with tiredness. Despite my shoulders screaming,I kept going till I was around the bend and out of sight until I stopped, stretched, adjusted things and then got going slowly once more.
Impression is everything. Before I left, I had asked Rob and Phill whether I could take a photo for my blog. Rob give Phill a hard time because he wanted to take his jumper off and be seen sitting in his billabong singlet, tattoos showing. He had wanted to show that it was nice and warm at the beach, even if it was cold now. Photos leave impressions, they tell a story. In composing them we get them to tell the story that we want others to hear. I sided with Phill on this one. Rob kept his jumper on.
I told them how when we I trained the school Murray Marathon team, how I said to the kids that it is important that they look good at the finish. No-one knows how hard you have been working the whole time. If you drift through, paddle and then rest because you are exhausted, the people watching will think that is how you have been paddling the whole time. So, however you feel, however you have paddled, when you see that finish, or you know it is around the corner, get your timing right, show your best technique and put on a show as you come in. If your arms are to tired to hold up, rest around the bend, but put in a good finish to show the people how hard you have worked. They never failed to deliver. I was proud as punch of the St. Joseph's Kayaking Team kids. Each gave everything they could and then something more. They showed leadership, supported each other and put in very impressive finishes. I am affected by my own mantra. I kept going till I was out of sight.
Spark's Reef, one of the rare occasions where you will see real rocks jutting through the river bed.
Paddling gingerly, I soon got to Spark's Reef. The reefs here are made if real rocks. I didn't expect real rocks in the Murray. This valley is so old it does not look like a valley anymore. It looks like a plain, and the Murray snakes through that plain searching for the easiest way to the sea. Rocks, remnants of the mountains that once lined these valleys have been skated over so many times by the river that they have all been worn away, or dissolved. Were these outcrops the last remnants of those great hills, or like the clay banks and red sandstone cliffs, a product of their erosion - young rock formed under the weight if other sediments, or welded together by iron rich ground water? Spark's Reef is one of those impressive reefs that covers half the river. I knew that navigating the Murray was tricky around Echuca for the paddle steamer captains, but down here it was downright dangerous. As the Adelaide passed through here, it would have moved gingerly. You need all your eyes on the river and another set if eyes on the charts, the sum of knowledge of 150 years. The charts show the things you can't see, they suggest that that swell or ripple is not as harmless as it might seem. They show that although the river changes a great deal in some ways, (like when it cuts a new course through the narrow part of looping bends), its dangers remain. The reefs are named after the paddle steamers, or the skippers that hit them, an example of black humour. So too are the snags. Red gum lasts almost forever underwater, so many of the snags that holed the paddle steamers are still there. It is chastening to think of what has passed before me over time in this river.
Salinity monitoring station.
I passed another massive set of pumps, too big an investment to be from private hand. Change is happening. We are learning to manage our resources better. Our western civilisation is still on its ‘P plates’, but like a young driver we are learning. Was this centralisation? A move away from the current situation where every farmer has their own (series) of pumps. Along some stretches of river you might see 49 pumps. Apart from the birds, their whirr is the dominant sound on the river.
Irrigation infrastructure upgrades as part of the Murray Darling Basin Plan.
This facility is designed to bring water to the Hattah Kulkyne National Park. The redgums and wetlands in the park suffered badly in the drought. Water from natural sources never reached the park.
I passed Tongar Downs, a station advertised in 1930's as having tall, lofty ceilings and magnificent river views. Like most old stations, it stood in high ground, well above the reach of any flood. There was a huge old windmill in front of the house, which would have pumped water into a tank on a stand to provide water pressure for the taps in the house. The building itself, however was new. It had a lowly angled corrugated iron roof and shade cloth lined verandas all around. It was not attractive, but probably very practical, given the heat and dust around here. In the front yard was a swing, what a different life a child would have growing up here to the city.
At Retail cutting, I stopped for a break. I had covered 23 km, was soaked from the dripping water from my own paddles and was cold. The goretex jacket I had swapped for my shirt at 10 km had stopped me from getting any colder, but now my body needed input. I pulled up at the beach at Retail Cutting, put on a cuppa soup and hung out my clothes to dry. With the sun out this did not take too long, but long enough for me to recuperate. Dry clothes felt good.
River Red Gum in flower.
Retail cutting: downstream view.
River Landscape: cracked clay and gum leaves.
Stopping for a break at Retail Cutting.
Retail cutting was marked on the paddlesteamer maps.
River rat footprints.
This section of the river passes through Hattah Kulkyne National Park and although I do not get to see much of the actual park from the river, the difference between the condition of the land is quite stark. On the left (Victorian) side, there is a wide variety of smaller trees, shrubs and ground covers. With the smaller plants are many small birds. Since these birds need something to feed on, I imagine that there are many smaller things as well. It looks very healthy. In the right side (NSW), all of this is missing - although there is little different in terms of the soil itself and both have river red gums. What the New South Wales side has that is not apparent on the Victorian side is goats - and they seemed to have cleaned up everything they can reach. Again today I saw rangers moving through the park, looking after campers, checking that things were ok, providing cut firewood. I am impressed.
Beaches were up to a kilometer long and 100m deep in this part of the river.
I finished the day at Colignan, a French sounding soldier settlement of about six houses. I was interested in visiting the Colignan shop but could not find a way to climb the steep banks. At Colignan the river splits around two islands, one of which is called St. Helens. It has an active river community, including three paddle steamers, a functioning slipway that takes boats sideways out if the water and two impressive barges. Colignan was one of the places that was chosen for soldier settlement - the scheme where service personal, returning from the First World War were given blocks of land and told to give farming a go. The blocks were too small to be viable and in most cases the original settlers moved away, replaced by another wave if migrants and irrigation. Now the area produces vegetables and avocados amongst other things. Their river, though, is their secret. It is beautiful,
Barges in Colignan.
The Mosquito.
The Impulse: Colignan.
Kangaroo tracks near my campsite.
Campsite at the water's edge. Colignan.
The campsite backed onto the Kemendok Nature reserve.
There was evidence of emus, kangaroos and the most beautiful birds.
I saw a red capped plover or double banded plover which ran quickly and silently on its small legs, almost
as if blown by the wind. Its camouflage was so good that when it turned its back,
it was almost impossible to see.
The Mallee Cliffs National Park "...protects extensive areas of flat to undulating sandy red plains and linear sand dunes formed during arid periods from 350,000 to 500,000 years ago. The park contains a number of isolated, relict, plant communities that demonstrate shifts in the pattern of vegetation arising from long-term environmental change. Mallee Cliffs National Park is managed to protect the sand plain and sand dune land systems and ecological communities." NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service.
Just downstream from Colignan the river braides through sand islands.
Pelicans stood in the shallow areas of high water flow, fishing. Google maps.
The launching ramp, one of the few places that you can pull out safely with a sea kayak, is just downstream of the islands on the Victorian side.
I had intended to visit Colignan, but the cliffs on the other side of the river made it difficult to do so.
The only way up was via a set of rusty steel steps, which finished about one metre
above present river height. There was also a boat ramp about a kilometre downstream.
More from this expedition:
Google+ Murray River Paddle Echuca To The Sea Photo Album
