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.
Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 21 Swan Hill to Nyah Nov 5
Swan Hill to Nyah 54km
At high river this was a pretty section to paddle. The current ran fast over the many clay reefs. The swirls and strong back eddies they created on the corners kept me on my toes, lest they spin me around, or drive me into dead water. And the views over the bank were a treat that river users don't normally have from smaller boats.
Swan Hill - life jacket showing position of cameras. Nikon AW1 tucked in behind jacket, Nikon Coolpix 130 and iPhone 6s in pocket. EPIRB and pocket knife in second outside pocket. An iPhone 5s with a floating grip was kept on the deck for panorama shots.
A rare action shot. Thanks to Ruth who saw me off. The next time we would meet again was 1,400 km later at the Murray Mouth. Plenty of flood country to go between now and then.
Leaving Swan Hill
Woodcutters camp near Swan Hill.
It was windy all day, however the skies were clear and the sun strong, so it was not so cold. I kept paddling for 4 hours, taking my first break on top of a levee after the Speewa Ferry. Surprisingly there were very few mossies there, which I put down to fast flowing water and dry land, with not too much grass.
I took the less used northern route around Beveridge Island because I had not been that way before and as this was the original course of the river, I would be able to compare what i found with photographs from earlier days. Sections like this provide an insight into how billabongs silt up. As the current slows, it begins to drop the silt it is carrying, making the river shallower and shallower. Plant growth on the edges thrives in such nutrient rich environments and further slow down the current, speeding up the process. Eventually the river totally abandons its old course and it becomes a billabong. This is happening at a number of locations along the river. Paddling around this one was a chance to see it first hand.
The pump in this flooded pump house was still running, which surprised me.
Old car bodies used to decorate a levee bank on a farm around Beveridge Island.
Flood waters have isolated a fisherman's cabin on the New South Wales side of the river channel... Capture of floating algae can be seen amongst flooded grasses in shallows where levee banks parallel to the river are close to re-emerging as the flood peak recedes... and water drains from the flood plain back into the river.
I did not expect to it to be so lush and the abundance of wildlife I found there. Where the river had spilled over the levees, scores of pelicans had landed. They were accompanied by groups of spoonbills, herons, egrets and ibis. In the forested sections kangaroos foraged. on seeing me they hoped away to hiding spots. It is most amusing when you drift silently around to the other side of the log, or tree they are hiding behind and they realise they have been found. There is a moment of loss of face, before they swallow their pride and bound away.
On the lower part of the Beveridge Island Anabranch (old river channel) flood waters began to return to the channel, carrying with them organic matter from the floodplain. In small amounts, this feeds and promotes the health of aquatic ecosystems. In large amounts it contributes to the development of blackwater. This image shows the trace of service organic matter be slowly thinning into a more narrow snaking path along the river channel ... It is possible that there have been additional inputs from Beveridge Island however I cannot be certain from this image alone... , definite downstream transport 2-2-2 ... Banks on the Victorian side are completely submerged including Channel Levy banks, however on the New South Wales side they are up to 1 m above river level... There is very little current... This is recorded in my observations from the day and can also be seen in the way that the organic matter moves about on the water surface, as well as the lack of ripples when the current in the river channel is disturbed.
Water ribbon growing on the Beverage Island floodplain amongst a young river red gum woodland. The plants show the direction the flood waters are flowing.
With the strong winds it was as though the clouds were being torn apart and spread across the sky in huge streaks. The water glistened, shuddered and changed height with approaching gusts. You can see them coming quite a while before they hit, which gives you time to hold onto your paddle tighter and make sure there is nothing loose on the deck. Mostly the gusts were harmless. Nothing at all compared to the continual rolling waves caused by winds in the long straights of South Australia. That was all still to come.
Speewa Ferry is a government service. Like the locks, people have the right to cross. They are free of charge and increasingly common as you near South Australia. The only one I know on the Murray in Victoria is on the Hume Dam. There used to be one in Barmah before the bridge was built. I remember being taken across in the car when I was a kid. It now stands high and dry, a memorial to the past, not far from the pub.
This story from the Riverine Herald from Jan 1906 tells of the tragic loss of two horses and a big bag of gold on a punt crossing. In the past, river crossings were rarely as safe as they are today.
Floodplain near Speewa being recolonised by river red gums. Note that the only old tree is on the river's edge, indicating clearing has taken place. Also that the highest ground is near the river: natural levee formation.
Flood channel regulator just after 1368 km with dropboards raised. This channel connects Lake Wollare, Lake Goonimur, Lake Poomar, Lake Poon Boon and Lake Genoe with the Murray River system. It also connects with the Koraleigh Irrigation district and provides a pathway for floodwaters to flow between the Wakool and Murray Rivers in flood times like these.
Modern day dreaming. Weekend getaway near Nyah.
Nyah Bridge
Both Swan Hill and Nyah are built on large sand hills. No danger of flooding in those towns. Nyah appeared through the forest like a medieval fortress, high above the plains. The sand hills and the changing understory in the red gum forest signal the passage of the river into the arid zone. Now, I have paddled off the edge of the ancient delta, where the Goulburn entered Australia's inland sea. The sand hills are wind blown remnants of the retreating sea. The red soil, long rolling dunes and saline subsoils of the mallee region have the same origin.
In Nyah itself, there is no sign of this prehistory. The historical park has a memorial to early settlers. there is a proud footpath on the main street which takes you to the post office, general store and pizza shop (which doubles as a place to get a cold beverage). However, there are three things that really surprised me about Nyah: it has crazy ornate gardens (really worth a walk around town to seek out these), it has a brilliant oval and finally, the place is full of young foreign backpackers, here to pick fruit. I came across a young german couple hoping to buy some food in the pizza joint and a group a japanese lads, with one very shiny fishing rod between them. I could hear them discussing what would be the polite thing to say to be in English. They agreed, and speaking for all of the others, the most confident one said "good evening". When asked whether they had had any luck the answer was easier, they all responded "na".
Nyah may be as aussie as they come and a quiet little place, but it is an international destination.
Tomorrow I make for Tooleybuc and am looking forward to a counter meal at its hotel: they have a reputation for being the best in the state.
Campsite in the Nyah Recreation Reserve. Free for travellers and nice to see some other people.
Plaque commemorating Major Thomas Mitchell, the Overlanders and the first settlers in the Nyah region, the Beveridge brothers.
Nyah residents seem to take great pride in their garden decoration. There are many individual and quirky properties.
Nyah may be a small town, but it has a great oval.
Campsite on a levee: one of the few river side spots above the flood waters.
Today the weather was perfect for paddling. I awoke early to get a good start and to be up before the mossies. It had been a cold night, too cold for them to be able to fly. I had had a broken nights sleep, dreams of being surrounded by flood waters, mixtures of fact and imagination. Amongst this miasma of semi-consciousness I heard the most unusual sound. Something was approaching the tent. Although things sound bigger at night this did not sound threatening. I couldn’t make it out; heavy breathing and shuffling. It brushed against the tent several times. I thought it might be a possum after my food and tapped against the tent wall to discourage its presence, but to no avail. It wasn’t until I saw a set of spines between the inner and outer tent that I realised what it was, an echidna. It was treating my tent like a log and pushing under it with its long nose, scooping up insect that had sheltered there. It did the same to my boat, knocking my paddle noisy about in the process. On the river a mist was rising, giving it a tropical look. The birds had begun their chorus, some way before dawn, but although I was in an agricultural area, there were still no sounds of man. Breaky was going to be on the water today. If I could get on the water soon I could capture some of that light. By the time I launched they were stirring.
Snake swimming across the river
Benjeroop: morning light. The town's newsletter calls the area 'A little patch of paradise where the waters meet' , however in the summer of 2011 things were not so rosey. Benjeroop was inundated for over a month when floodwaters from the combined high flows of the Loddon and Murray Rivers breached the towns levees in 13 places. The sixty families living there have worked hard to support each other and for the community to recover. In the wake of the floods Prince William visited the community recognising their efforts and bringing attention to their plight.
Benjaroop
Morning light in Cobramunga.
The mist had lifted, but the trees and rural landscape in the morning light was stunning. They appear so crisp and clear, and in the golden light of early morning it is as if everything is born anew. I drifted a lot, taking it in. Slowly the sounds of work life on the farms began. Early morning jobs. Irrigation has begun, but it was still too early for the pumps. I heard the sounds of machinery being prepared, chicken being fed. The cars starting that would be used to drive kids to school buses. Country kids and their parents have to get up early. On the farms canola is beginning to be harvested, the first hay cut and firebreaks maintained. From the water I get a different perspective. I see the danger and the opportunities the river provides its communities, how they protect themselves from flood, how water is used for the crops and for leisure, I see the first attempts at settlement and the latest and the machinery from everything in between. It is an open book, full of people’s life stories.
Overhanging branches
Old pump house, slowly collapsing into the river. — in Mellool.
One of the more remarkable pump boilers along the river. Why was it encased in brickwork and an iron frame?
Fairly early in the day, I came across an old steam pump. One of the most interesting on the river. Now with the high water, i was able to get close. It was encased in a framework of brick and had heavy iron bracing. Was this meant to stop it exploding if pushed beyond its limits? Now it sits, overtaken by bush as a symbol of the ingenuity and creativity of those times. Times before weirs, when boilers came by ship from England and farmers became experts through trial and error. When the bush was to be tamed, trees were to cut down and outposts of western civilisation created. The canary island palms and pepper trees scattered through the bush are also a testament to this thinking. Long after all traces of buildings are gone, their presence can be a hint to where farms used to be.
Suggestion not to use sailing boats on the Murray River.
Kayaking amongst water ribbon on low lying land near Fish Point Rd. Mellool, NSW. Water ribbon breaks its dormancy when the soil is saturated, its long ribbon like leaves grow up towards the water's surface and then float on top of it, providing protection for young fish and other small water life. These kind of wetlands are also found in billabongs which regularly dry out and the flood runners that link them. They play an important role in maintaining the diversity and health of river ecosystems, but seeing them grow like this has become a rare thing since river regulation. 1452 km mark.
The river is narrow here. It forms what paddle steamer captains used to call ‘the cutting’. Stretching from Barmah to Swan Hill, it circumnavigates the uplifted block of land know as the Cadell Tilt. In a series of earthquakes that lasted over 50,000 years the path of the Murray was blocked, causing it to first flow northward and later south. Both paths exist today, this one and the Edwards-Wakool system in the North. They rejoin at the Wakool junction near Boundary Bend. This southern course of our mighty river is the youngest in the whole system, it may have happened as recently as 800 years ago, or perhaps 10,000. It is still the subject of research. From Echuca onward, the Murray flows through the ancestral Goulburn. In parts of this section, it looks as if that original channel have not changed. Its twisting narrow course is bounded by ancient trees on both sides. They lean into the river, covering up to half of its width, extraordinarily resilient and a wealth of habitat for all that lives here. A cockatoo lets me know that I am trespassing by screaming into its nest. This may have increased the loudness of his call, but what would it be like for its partner sitting on the eggs in there I wonder?
Fallen timber and cut logs from forestry and wood cutting stuck amongst the regrowth along the river's edge. This happens when over bank flows pick up old dry timber lying in the forest and redistribute it, or when water from the river channel flows straight through the forest, rather than along the river channel. in both cases logs get caught on trees.
Murray Downs Homestead
Murray Downs Homestead
As I neared Swan Hill the rich riparian forests began to become thinner and more degraded. Some farmers only have a single layer of trees along the water’s edge. when these fall in there will be nothing to replace them. Others have removed them altogether. In some places where cattle have been allowed down to the water’s edge the ground is often bare and weeds form the only understory. Whereas in the resilient part of the river with the old trees and multi-age forest there had been no erosion, here the rich red of mallee soil was visibly crumbling. Not as bad as in other sections, but the contrast was interesting.
One row of trees: not enough.
In the distance I could hear the sound of traffic. In Swan Hill I would catch up with my wife Ruth and do some organising for the rest of the trip. I am looking forward to that.
I am camped opposite checkpoint alpha on day 5 of the Murray Marathon. Usually it is a nice little beach, but today it is in the form of its alter ego - a wetland. All around the bush is buzzing. The air is rich with the sounds of insects, frogs and calling birds. In the afternoon, as the mosquitoes get bolder, swallows swoop low over the water, picking up mosquitoes and other tasty morsels. They certainly are welcome to their weight in mossies every day and all the hollow trees I can muster to breed freely. I was going to camp at Alpha for nostalgia’s sake, but rain water has filled the wheel ruts in the tracks on the other side of the levee and grass was over a metre high. So, I paddled across the other side of the river and am camped on a nice broad levee bank. So long as the farmer doesn’t want to drive his ute along here, or a herd of cattle decide this is the way they want to travel, then I’m set. There is a huge old boiler discarded behind the levee. My guess is that it was used to drive irrigation pumps, before the advent of the small and more efficient combustion engine which has taken its place. In the riparian fringe of flooded red gums honeyeaters bounce off the water’s surface and then settle on a branch to complete their toilet. A fish came in and snapped at something before disappearing. Cockatoos are trying to dominate the evening chorus. It seems chaotic tonight. Perhaps that is because I’m on the edge between forest and agricultural land - or perhaps it really is the cockatoo’s fault.
Today’s paddle began in the forest. More correctly, it began in a forest town. The dominant sound in Barham is of the Arbuthnot Sawmills. The whine of the saw blade and the growling of the busy front end loader that rushes around feeding it. The saw mill is the last operating red gum saw mill on the Murray. There is more demand than they can fill. The mill cuts timber from the ecological thinning projects under trial in some of the river red gum forests. Should the removal of crowded saplings and trees be successful in promoting the regeneration of the forest, as is hoped, then they might soon more timber available. Our red gum national parks are dominated by one age group, reflecting the last timber harvest. Forestry workers have the tools and the experience to be able to reinstate that diversity. It is a change from what used to be done, but it is the road to sustainable local industry. Hopefully this cooperation between parks and industry will spread and we will see more local sawmills reopen along the Murray.
Out of the buzz and under the bridge. With one and a half metres clearance I made it easily. Larger boats need to give 48 hours notice for the central span to be raised. It wasn’t necessary for me. Once past the waterfront houses with their barbie boats, canoes and tarzan swings I was in the forest again. Unlike upstream of Barham, the water soon reached the top of the natural levees and was slowly spilling into the forest. There were the usual runners, but it was spilling everywhere. It was easy to imagine how these levees grew. With such thick grass growth, the water would slow and drop its sediment before continuing. It was 40 kilometres between Barham and Murrabit, most of it forest, and most of it under water. it was not as threatening as the Barmah Forest however, I could have stood up on the flooded banks had I wanted to. About 10 kilometres before Murrabit I heard tractors working the fields, I also saw the first pump irrigating crops. No shortage of water this year. Last time I paddled here it was low river. Today i could see the old farm houses with their beautiful rose gardens. I could paddle right up to the huge old shearing shed before Gonn Crossing and I almost could have paddled into the front yard of the house where day 5 of the marathon starts. Like so many other farmers, they had a tinny tied as close to the house as possible. In this case it was the garden gate.
I called into the Murrabit launching ramp for a break - first time out of the boat in 5 hours! It was good to stretch the legs. I was also curious to see how this would be for the start of day 5 in the marathon. All was good. Inadvertently I pulled up next to sign explaining navigation hazards on the Murray. It looked like I was one of them. Pulling into shore gave me a chance to look beyond the reeds, rushes and sedges along the waters edge. In the backwaters, water ribbon were growing after years of dormancy. Amazing how plants like these survive the many dry years.
After forest being the dominant form of bank vegetation for my first 700km I was enjoying the agricultural flavour. I had a look at the old pump houses, some of them clearly built to house steam engines, and tried to imagine what it would have been like in those times. I saw a settlers hut, falling apart now, but somehow survived the ravage of the years with its tin chimney. I passed by the site of the old Gonn crossing. In the distance you can see a wattle and daub building, now a ruin. Proud stations on either side of the river may have determined the punt’s location. Stations and farm houses often have all sorts of old interesting things lying around - but one of them had what looked like an old DC3 passenger airplane and a sizeable chunk of the fuselage of a world war two transport plane, shrapnel holes and all. It looks like both projects were a bit ambitious.
As usual, once out of town, the river was quiet. It is a work day, perhaps things will change as I approach Swan Hill, tomorrow’s destination. The river has dropped here, but only just. I wonder what it will be like at Swan Hill.
The new wharf at Barham Koondrook. Due to be opened Nov 2016.
Rural landscape
Rural landscape
Row of old trees along the river bank.
A ruin at the site of the former Murrabit River Crossing.
This camp although inundated was still occupied by its owner.
Some farmers have rescued kilometer signs from fallen trees and placed them on their sheds.
Approaching Barham Bridge.
Passing under Barham Bridge
I know that farmers have a name for collecting things, but I was surprised to see a DC3 and a war plane wreck in the forest.
Shearing Shed
Shearing shed, pump and tinny.
Murrabit bridge. 1.5m clearance.
Water ribbon colonising backwaters behind the levees.
Navigational hazards... had I become one?
Old pump house.
Every farmer needs their tinny.
Old tree with hollow base.
Cattle grazing in the forest.
River landscape.
Flooded forest on river's edge
Rushes thriving on the natural levees between Murrabit and Barham.
Wild roses.
Quiet time
Levee bank at checkpoint alpha, day 5 Murray marathon.
Dry land was hard to find today. A levee will have to do.
Levee banks are the only high spots in places. This was wide enough to camp on comfortably.
Ready made washing line.
Boiler near my campsite on the levee.
Massive boilers which were used to drive irrigation pumps before the internal combustion engine.
Sunset from my tent on top of the levee between Murrabit and Swan Hill.
