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.