Lowbidgee Day 1 - Hay - Pevensey Station

Mike Bremers: Murrumbidgee Canoe Trip 1995-2008 

Mike Bremers: Murrumbidgee Canoe Trip 1995-2008 

Mike Bremers: Murrumbidgee Canoe Trip 1995-2008 

Google Maps

It's already pretty out on the river. There is a feeling of wilderness even on simply paddling around the bend and out of sight of Sandy Point (where I launched in Hay). The only sounds are birdcall and wind. It's a quiet river compared to the Murray - especially in a busy place like Echuca, where I am from. My boat is heavy with its newly laden with gear and food for 10 days, but it moves steadily through the water. The first few kilometres I find new spots for my gear, adjusting the load and positions so that everything can be used and doesn't get in the way. There is a current of between 1 and 2 km an hour; a steady drift but not easily visible as there are no tell tail ripples on snags. The river just quietly moves along. This may just be the character of the Lower 'Bidgee (lowbidgee). Time to put in some kilometres and get this trip started.

Bush camp

Tree roots exposed by the river

The sun is shining again now looking forward to putting on my hat. Ahead of me, three great cormorants are sunning themselves on the snag, look nervously this direction and are unlikely to stay long as I approach - being of the nervous kind.

Great Cormorant: www.flickr.com

Museum of Victoria's Field Guide App for NSW help identify animals. It even has the calls of birds and frogs. Field Guide to NSW Fauna is a valuable tool for anyone with an interest in wildlife. Use it in urban, bush and coastal environments to learn more about the animals around you. 

Now about 12 km into the paddle. The GPS is refusing to do anything but show it's start screen. Seems to have been an expensive mistake. Just have to wait a lunch break and try and see what I can do. I remember reading something about taking the batteries out and holding the on off button and then re-inserting the batteries and it should be right again. But I'd better wait until lunch when I have dry hands on moisture could get into the device. There is a fresh wind coming from the south-east so most of the time I'm heading into it. Following the map and the kilometres written into it, I am at about the 16 to 17km point - almost at Gordon Point at the 4 mile reserve.

Near Four Mile Reserve I come across an old shearing shed in the Wooloondool State Forest. It seems to be in the process of progressively being swallowed up by the bush surrounded it. The shearing shed is located in a convoluted peninsula with the river forming a natural boundary for stock on all sides except for a narrow 'bridge'. Early settlers often used the land to their advantage like this. In Echuca, what is now the Scenic Drive, used to be a holding paddock for police horses and near Kulcurna Station on the lower Murray, a similar landform was used to trap wild horses.

“It’s like the old days of camping when you and the family take the dog, park the trailer, set up for a week, live on fish, and it costs you next to nothing.”

Wooloondool, part of Murrumbidgee Valley National Park, is within easy reach of the town of Hay, and it’s an ideal place to camp. Many set up camp at Wooloondool as it’s a great place for fishing - yellowbelly, redfin, brim, catfish, and carp, as well as crayfish during the season, can all be caught here." Wooloondool Reserve 

Just before Rock and Roll Reserve, about 18 km downstream from Hay, are the remains of a Fisherman's shack. Its roof is still intact, but the walls and floors have rotted away and only the frames of these and the front door is still present. I wonder if it was abandoned in the high rivers of 2010-11?

I have heard the beautiful calls of the Pied Butcher Bird through the forest. This bird is a bit of a conundrum. It looks like a stunted magpie, but instead of warbling and 'carolling', it whistles. Its song reflects off the gum leaves in the canopy and carries well over long distances. Despite its song and good looks, it did not get the name 'butcher bird' by chance, it has a habit of spearing its prey on thorns until it is ready to eat them. It hangs its meat to keep it fresh. The river this morning has also been home to pelicans wheeling into the sky on my approach, great cormorants, pied cormorants usually high in the dead trees that line each bank, australasian darters struggling to fly with crops full from the last dive, tree martins, brown treecreepers and pacific black ducks in their hundreds.

Android App: The Lower Murrumbidgee floodplain is a unique area. Use this app to learn about the Lower Murrumbidgee Floodplain and explore both natural and cultural wonders of the area. Investigate the diverse plants and animals of the Lowbidgee with over 100 species profiles presented and the ability to report a species you have seen. The app also includes information on things to do, places to visit, towns, national park information and a map. Visit the app's gallery to take the opportunity to share your Lowbidgee photos.

Approaching the weir the river nears the top of its banks.

Magnificent hollow in an old river red gum.

Trees flooded by Hay Weir provide habitat for water birds.

The hairpin bend just after Four mile reserve is a whistling kite nest in stately river red gum, taller than the rest of the trees, its crown reaching above the forest canopy. As I paddle past the tree, one of the kite gives its warning call, whilst the other circles overhead. The nest is small by eagles standards. I've recently learned that each generation adds to the nest and thus it becomes progressively larger with age. A nest near Bendigo has been documented to be over 400 years old. Later in the day I came across a much larger nest; it was about 1.5m tall and about the same wide.

White breasted sea eagle: Wikipedia

On the last hairpin bend before Hay Weir, a pair of white breasted sea eagles took to the air just above me. What a surprise! I watched their aerobatics for a minute or so, before they disappeared, one further down the river and the other to an impressive nest in a back water. I tried to take some photos, but the specks in my viewfinder turned out to be really specks and not much use to anyone. Despite being lovely pictures of clouds and a blue sky, I wont be uploading them to Facebook.

Watermarks showing normal water level

Spoonbill

White breasted sea eagle

Hay Weir was much bigger than I anticipated. I could see it through the trees as i approached. A tall rectangular structure, about the height of a four story building, it loomed ominously as I rounded the bend. The weir completely blocks the river and with no way of going through it (there are no locks on the Murrumbidgee) you have to get out. With the weir pool dropped by about a metre, I had to really struggle to get my boat up the bank - especially since being the first day, it was heavily loaded. Mike Bremers and the Great Millenium Trip blog talk of picnic areas, toilets and lawns kept green by sprinklers, however I was unable to find no more than a derive BBQ and some orderly piled rubbish from campers. It seems that it is not the place it used to be. To relaunch your boat, you need to follow the river for a couple of hundred meters until you are past the fenced off and rock protected bank. There, a fisherman's track heads down to the river. It's a different river below the weir; the banks are high once more and the current surprisingly swift.

Hay Weir appears like a gateway in the distance.

On the other side ther are no more dead trees

And the banks are natural once again.

A pair of black winged stilts lure me away from their nest by flying ahead. All black and white except for long red legs. They look more like a seabird then something you would find in inland Australia. Once I am far enough away, they simply turn and fly back at head height right past me - obviously they are not used to being hunted (thank goodness).

Black Winged Stilt: Wikipedia

The river downstream from the weir is much more natural. The dead trees that have been my companions since Hay are gone and the river is less grey. the green of its water are complemented by living vegetation that at times comes right down to the water's edge.

There was a lot of water coming out of the weir. The flow at least in the first section is as good as the Murray. The wildlife seems less disturbed, though remains timid.

As the afternoon rolls on the sun comes out more, creating sparkles on the water's surface. It is a pleasure to paddle this section of the 'bidgee.

My first beach since leaving Hay.

The Lowbidgee winds through farm...

And forest...

About 20 km below the weir I came across Pevensey Station, I felt nostalgic for the grand old steamer that is the pride of the fleet at Echuca. PS Pevensey was named after this wool station (wikipedia). She was known as the PS Philadelphia in 'All the Rivers Run' - a mini series from the 1980's which depicted the river trade. I stopped and tried to imagine what it would have been like in those days. I tried to take a photograph, but with the advantages of being close to the water in a kayak there have to be sone disadvantages - having a difficult time photographing things that are on top of the bank is one of them. I settled for a row of old fuel tanks (a snapshot of rural life) when it was the station I was actually interested in.

PS Pevensey... named after a wool station on the Murrumbidgee River.

Steamers were a connection with the outside world. Not only were they good for business, but they also brought visitors. Some were churches, like the PS Etona, and performed weddings and baptisms along the rivers. Others were shops, selling pots and pans and flour. Still others were fishing boats, like the PS Canberra and kept their fish fresh is netted half sunken barges towed next to the steamers. The PS Pevensey was one of the grandest of the wool boats. Wool bales were stacked until the captain could only just see the river and even higher in the huge barges behind them. They allowed this area and the people who lived in them to prosper and establish the great properties that still exist today. Rail brought the end of the river trade, just as road transport led to the closing of most branch lines almost a century later. Now the Murrumbidgee is full of snags and the weirs placed on this river do not allow the passage of boats as they do in the Murray. More is the pity.

Boats loaded with wool bales at the Echuca Wharf.

On this section...

There is..

A sense of isolation...

Ther is just you and the river...

Pevensey Station: fuel drums.

Pevensey Station

Not far after Pevensey, I found a large beach with enough room to pitch my tent out of reach of dangerous branches. I turned around, took aim and paddled hard so the the first half of the kayak would launch onto dry land. I then pulled up my boat, out of reach of a possibly rising river (following yesterday's rain and the amount of water that was being allowed through the weir.

My campsite near Eulalie Station, just downstream from Pevensey Station.

Wahlenbergia stricta: native bluebell. A plant which has survived from Gondwana times, it exists in South America, Australia, South Africa and New Zealand.

After setting up the tent, I settled into cooking, determined to eat my way through my boats food stores. I am sure I have brought too much. I usually do. Sitting watching the sun go down, whilst dinner cooked was very peaceful. It is the time of day when birds seem to wake up again,with either the urge to be social, or to eat - it is difficult to tell which is the case, they seem to be doing both.

Murray Rosella: the yellow form of the crimson rosella.

Spotted doves were feeding on the grass seeds on the beach, yellow plumed honey-eaters squabbled, Murray Rosellas found young buds on the red gums, biting them off to get to the sweet sap that feeds them. There must be a grey shrike thrush. These are a beautiful to listen to. Their song is almost as varied and inventive as a lyre birds'. Two strong looking young bulls came down too. Luckily they were not too curious. Better pack up well tonight though. Tomorrow I hope to reach Maude.

The spotted dove is native to India. It was introduced to Melbourne in the 1860's and quickly spread, sometimes replacing native doves (wikipedia) .Spotted Doves feed on grains, seeds and scraps. The birds are seen alone or in small flocks, feeding mostly on the ground (birds in backyards).

Talmalmo Station

The locals say the water is much better than it used to be, Jill and Geoff, the artist and farmer, who live in the beautiful Original homestead of Talmalmo Station and run Talmalmo Cottage, where we are staying, say that there are less carp than there used to be, so they must be doing something right. "In 1994, when we moved here, I was caught 90 cm long carp, really big ones, regularly. You don't see them anymore." I remember those carp from my childhood. The carp took over the Murray in the wet years between 1974 and 1976, when we had some of the biggest floods on record and a constantly high river. When the river went down to its normal level again, the banks were littered with dead carp of around a metre in length. We reasoned that, unable to forage on the floodplains, there was not enough food for them to eat and they starved. I can still remember their rotting corpses. There were too many to clean up. The riverbanks stunk. We didn't go near them again for months. Why the large carp persisted for another 20 years in the Upper Murray is a riddle to me: perhaps the constantly changing water levels in the Hume dam provide them with a niche environment which they are able to exploit better than any other fish. Trout Cod have been sighted again and the river is regularly stocked with juveniles of trout cod, murray cod and rainbow trout. These are all predators which would enjoy young carp as a meal. The pelicans, standing where the river shallows, like to catch the carp as they swim upstream, though some are too big to tangle with. Leaving snags in the river causes swirls which create holes in the river bed, including deep holes in which the predators like to hide. So although carp may travel up the Upper Murray from the Hume, it is a dangerous place to breed.

The stone re-enforcement of the river banks, so common between Bringenbrong Bridge and Jingellic have been put in place and paid for by the Snowy Mountains Hydroelectric scheme. Water is released from Khancoban reservoir when it reaches capacity, or is needed further down the Murray. Khancoban was built with the purpose of assisting in the management of water flow, however it's limited capacity makes this difficult. Local farmers tell that during peak load times, like when everyone turns on their air conditioners in summer, releases happen which can raise the river level by a metre overnight. It can also have to do with the days of the week - presumably reflecting power usage patterns - so that at some times of the year the water level will rise by one metre overnight on a Monday (for example). Water will also be released when reserves in the mountains have reached capacity, even if this contributes to flooding downstream. These regular large changes in river level make it hard for riverbank vegetation (other than willows?) to settle, leading to massive erosion problems . A farmer I spoke to said that every time the river rose he lost three to four metres of land. The Snowy Mountains Hydroelectric Authority is responsible for the maintenance of the river between Bringenbrong Bridge and Jingellic, which is why the bank stabilisation is so common there. For canoeists, it means choosing camps which are more than a metre above the river's current height and making sure that you have tied your boat up well.

According to a local farmer we spoke to, the section of river between Jingellic and the Hume is controlled by the Victorian North East Catchment Management Authority, the same that controls the Kiewa, Mitta Mitta, Ovens and King rivers. He said that the NSW parliament does not seem interested in their plight and that several local members have been elected with that mandate, but been unable to change a thing. Power for NSW inhabitants and services such as education, also seems to predominantly come from Victoria. I read an account in a local paper (The Border Mail, Saturday December 13th, 2008) from an elderly man, who lived on the NSW side at Talmalmo Station. When he and his brother were considered old enough to go to school, their father made them row him up and down the river for hours on end. They then rowed the boat across the river to where they kept their bikes and continued the ride to school. This they had to do rain, hail, or shine, whether the river was low or in flood. They were only four and five years old when they began to do this by themselves. This seems to be the plight of many NSW border towns along the Murray, they are so far from Sydney that they don't seem to be worth the investment. In Echuca, one of the main incentives to build that town's second bridge (the original was built in the 1860's - before the Titanic and Eiffel Tower), is that the 7,000 people in Moama would have no access to public hospital and secondary education services should it become impassable.

Talmalmo's School Bus Driver / Racing Car Champion. Nissan Violet GT "Southern Cross"  George Fury The winding river road on the NSW bank is home territory to rally car champion, George Fury. Fury, also known as 'farmer George' was multiple times Australian Rally Car Championship, twice runner up in Australian touring car championships and the holder of pole position in the 1984 Bathurst 1000. Racing biography. When not racing cars, George was a school bus driver. Source. I'm sure the ride to school was an interesting one.

Imagining those two boys in their rowing boat, prompted me to consider, once again, what the ideal boat for this section of the river might be. Whilst sea kayaks are great for keeping gear dry, are a fast expedition boat and do not catch the wind as much as a Canadian canoe, the later may be better in these conditions. Sea kayaks are difficult to turn and even more difficult to get out of. Canadians are stable, turn quickly and could not be easier to jump out of to push yourself off a gravel race, or to investigate a potentially tricky situation. This means that it is also easier to pull up and assess rapids, snags, or tight corners (which also means that you are more likely to do this). If you capsize you are out in a hurry, which can be very important where there are snags which could catch your life jacket and hold you under. Importantly, when you capsize out of a Canadian canoe, your life jacket and head do not go underwater, they do in a sea or whitewater kayak. So there is less risk of you being caught on a snag underwater when you tip out of a Canadian canoe than when you are sealed into a sea kayak. If you would like a taste of the Upper Murray, the Upper Murray Resort can provide boats gear and advice on where and how you can do this safely. If you are doing the whole river, consider ditching the sea kayak for this section.

If you have the opportunity to get out of your boat and explore the Upper Murray valley by road, then travel to one of the many lookouts and take in the magnificent views of Mt Kosciusko and its companions. They form an impressive bulwark at the head of the Murray Valley: sentinel guardians of a river that provides nutrients and life to so many in its three month, two and a half thousand kilometre journey to the sea. It feels like a pilgrimage and I suppose it is one of sorts to see these mountains. From the lookout near Tintaldra, they stretch further than the eye can see. Kosciusko is so high, it has formed its own clouds and was hidden by the rain within them. Almost all of the water that flows down the Murray comes from the high country, rainfall and runoff is much lower on the plains. This is unusual for a river. It heightens my appreciation of the water that I have been kayaking on in the Upper Murray these last few days. This is all there is, there isn't anymore. We now have the job of sharing that water with the seven or eight million other people who depend directly, or indirectly on its water, produce or life giving properties.

‘Look after the land and rivers, and the land and rivers will look after you’

(Wiradjuri Elder) 

Murray Valley Catchment Action Plan 2013 -2023 (NSW)

Sitting on the balcony of our riverside cottage, watching the sunset, the stars rise and the river travel ever further towards the sea, I already have a plan to return, to accompany it on that journey once again. It is always a privilege.