Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 25 Yungera Station to Invincible Bend Nov 9

Yungera to Tol Tol

Sunrise, Yungera Station, Boundary Bend, Victoria

Yungera Station

Yungera Station: pulling my fully laden boat to the river.

Yesterday I passed a major milestone. Just before Tala Rocks, the only known stone fish trap on the Murray that remains today, I passed the point where I had paddled 1000 km since beginning at the Hume Dam about four weeks ago. If you take away days set aside for organisation, rest and time with family, that's close to an average of 50 km a day, which is the target I set myself given the necessary delay to the beginning of the trip caused by major flooding in the Upper Murray.

YouTube: Approaching the 1200 km mark just after Yungera Station (morning bird call).

Overbank flow through blackbox and river reg gum woodland, just after Yungera Station. Saltbush and Exocarpus understory.

YouTube: Between 1194 and 1192 opposite the Yungera Island just passed a big area flooded Black Box where where the river and travels more through the forest then it does down its channel... leading to pretty much next to no current in the bends... picking up slightly now ...maybe doing one kilometre an hour ...that area of box Forest is really quite special with trees over 1 m in diameter and and many canoe trees amongst them ...in one spot I counted about five canoe trees in about 200 m.

In that time the river has changed from looking like a mountain stream, with the hills bordering its catchment clearly visible on either side, to a broad meandering river with 6 km long bends. Above Yarrawonga the Murray was confined to its ancient river bed, regularly flooding and changing course in its narrow valley. Blocked by an uplifting of the earth's crust between Echuca and Deniliquin, it was forced out, split into two rivers, which rejoined, flowing back into the ancient channel 400 km later. It has passed through two giant Redgum forests, the first built on sediment dropped when, blocked by the uplift, the Murray formed a huge lake, and the second, the remnants of a delta where it used to flow into the inland sea that the explorers sought but never found because they were 30 million years too late. Now I am paddling under that sea. No longer covered by waves, I am in the arid zone. Whilst the red gums remain, black box is becoming more common. The silver wattles have been replaced by River Myall and Saltbush and Lignum line the banks. The salt left in the soil beneath the surface by the sea continues to challenge both people and nature. How they cope with this will be part of the story of the next 1,000 km.

Since the Wakool Junction, the river channel has increased dramatically in width. The parts of the river which flowed Northward around the Cadell Tilt have rejoined and flow is notably stronger. Once again, the Murray is and its floodplain are contained within the channel of the much larger and more powerful stream that existed here in ancient times. The high banks are visible as red cliffs when the river reaches the edge of this corridor.

In the place that this photograph was taken the flow in the river channel has almost stopped, with most of the flow taking the shortest possible route through the forest. This means that there is only current in those sections of the river which run the same direction as the water is flowing. Current speed varies from zero to seven kilometres per hour. In this photograph water is flowing slowly out of the forest and into the river channel.

YouTube: Yungera State Forest beautiful old gums... I've just passed some High ground back here... The High ground tends to be on the outside of the bends it's not surprisingly really has the river is always forming new lower ground on the inside of the bends... meaning that the High ground, the oldest ground built-up through sediment deposition... floodplain sediments or aeolian Sandhill sediments and this is usually where you will find your Black Box ...not surprisingly ...so outside of the bends and usually at the start of the bends you'll find this fellow, Acacia stenophylla with its long thin dark green leaves... and the peak usually not the end and your find Black Box on the outside of the bends and Red Gum floodplain forest on the inside of the bends and immediately downstream on the benches.

Round Yungera Island, so much of the rivers water is flowing directly through the forest that there is next to no current at all. It makes for a pretty picture through. When the light is right, the forest floor sparkles as the ripples from the flow catch the sunlight. Slow flows through the forest create areas of blackwater. I'm yet to see fish kills resulting from it in this area, however it could be that these have been caught in the forest debris. Now, after 4 weeks, I seem to have old caught up with the flood pulse down the Murray. Floods travel like long waves down rivers. The pressure of the wave causes the water to rise even before the flow does. Both are slowed down by the forests. They absorb the flood pulses, protecting those areas downstream and release it slowly, a bit like a mountain spring. This is why high rivers downstream of forests last longer than those upstream. From here on the Murray sticks more to its channel and both the changes in height and flow should be more predictable.

Old Black Box with Saltbush and Lignum understory on the outside of a bend.

Organic matter stranded in an eddy amongst vegetation (Saltbush, Lignum and River Myall) at the bank top NSW, forming a thick mat on the surface for the first metre away from shore.

Right at the peak of the flood wave... Rising flood waters spreading through a Black Box woodland at Boundary Rocks, opposite Cod's Head Reef Campsite, Yungera Island.

At Boundary Rocks I pulled up for a short break. There, the most enormous whirlpools visibly sucked down the surface of the river by up to 10 cm and have a diameter of up to 5 m. Some of them appear suddenly. I took care to stay well away. They are caused by the way the current flows over the rocks below them. We tend to think in two dimensions when it comes to water, but movement occurs in three. The swirls caused by snags and rocks include currents that come to the surface, creating boils and others that go down. When these are extreme they cause whirlpools. Its part of what makes some parts of rivers quite dangerous. The Murray seems so tame, but it has its traps. It is, after all, a wild river. On the shore I can see the waters edge gradually creeping millimetre by millimetre further, or is it receding, when you're at the peak it's hard to tell.

Dragonfly resting on my camera.

Over lunch I called into Meilman Station. Meilman was settled around 1850 and has been run by the Gorman family since the 1920’s. After serving me a hearty lamb roast sandwich, Andy brought out some of his research into local history, including old newspaper articles and photos. One of the photos showed the paddle steamer Ruby moored in front of their house in high water in 1931. The sandhill on which their house is built is at close to 3 metres higher than the current high river. High rivers were frequent before the Hume Dam was built in the 1960's. The changing levels shaped the banks until there was a stable angle, bit by bit, year by year. Now with high rivers happening less frequently, the shaping is happening all at once, which is one of the reasons for the bank collapse we are seeing along many stretches of the Murray. Andy's son, Alfred, showed me some great drone footage he had shot of the high river. They had been using the drone to look for some missing sheep. The property stretches all the way to Euston township and includes several lakes and old water course, many of which run once the river is up. This is what makes looking for sheep in these times more difficult, but is also what makes the understanding of landholders like the Gormans such a valuable resource. Over time I would like to get in contact with as many river landholders as possible and ask them how they see the river has changed, what they think the issues are and what the causes might be.

Meilman Station ahead.

Reminiscences of a pioneer - Edmund Morey - A bush Christening. Morey wrote a number of articles. These are searchable on Trove and held in the National Library, Canberra ( Edmund Morey - squatter, Euston N.S.W., 1846). Also part of the Balranald Euston Tooleybuc History Project, Country Areas Program, North West Riverina, Schools Commission, 1984 - Frontier and pioneer life - 18 pages. Here is a record of the 14 entries Edmund Morey wrote about life as a pioneer on the Murray River.

Paddlesteamer Marion loading wood at Mielman Station in the 1931 flood. Gorman family.

After Meilman I made for a sandhill the Gormans had told me about, just after invincible bend. In this area the river seems to be doing its old trick of meandering around inside the ancient meanders. This leads to a lot of hairpin bends. During high rivers like this, the river flows straight through the forest rather than around the bends, so instead of great current, I had a lot of areas of dead water. In one of these places I came across what I thought at first was a very odd looking snake. It turned out to be a blue tongue lizard attempting to cross the river. It had blown up its abdomen with air, making it look a bit like a balloon animal. To make headway it wiggled from side to side and tried to do things with its feet as well. Nothing was happening quickly, but it made it across. Lucky there were no whistling kites in the area.

YouTube: Blue tongue lizard swimming across the river. It seems to have filled itself up with air (swallowed, or filled its lungs?). Most other lizards sit low in the water when swimming. I kept my distance, allowing it to cross safely.

Some movement in the water once again...

YouTube: This cutting this is so large that it is as wide as the main river channel I will take the original channel though because I am interested in the comparison between the current state and how the river looked in the 1800's so this is the channel I'll be taking. The river channel I'll be following the original channel is still wider but you can see in high water conditions like this that most of the river is flowing through the cutting. 

The still air today was great for both photography and recording bird call. There were perfect reflections and the sounds seemed to be magnified by the forest. The most beautiful call was from a butcher bird, whose whistling call defies its rather nasty habit of impaling its prey on spikes. The cockatoos were in pairs and small groups, nesting communities. They cause quite a problem for local fruit growers and the almond plantations in the area which they see as a gifted food source. Locals say that the flocks in summer have to be seen to be believed.

Near Narcooyia Creek

There looks like there has been a fire through here with charring on the base of some of the trees and epicormic growth up much of the trunks.

Just around the corner from where I was to make camp, I came across a boat coming the other way. There aren’t many boats on the water these days, so we came together and had a chat. Father and daughter, Barry and Jess were just giving their boat a bit of a run after a winter’s rest. Jess handed over a stubby. Barry had heard one of my interviews on the ABC and asked if I was that person. They invited me to stay at their river holiday home, which is where I am now. Again lucky and amazed at the generosity of the people around me. We finished the day off with a few more beers and swapping river stories. Everyone has their story and I want to hear them. There is always something to learn. Barry says that the cockatoos are a big issue in this area. They feed on the almonds and fruit trees. He says that flocks have never been bigger and that they are causing real issues for many trees, whether they be on private property or where they roost in the forest. Barry wanted to emphasise how many things are going well with the river, saying that we only hear the doom and gloom stories. Salinity he says, has never been lower and water is reaching the mouth of the river once again. We all know stories of where things have gone wrong, but its important to reflect on what works as well.

First sign of the Avery's boat... the first boat I have seen on the water since around Gunbower...

YouTube: Coming into Invincible Bend just passed 1158 floodplain River Red Gum forest I've just met Barry and daughter, Jess in that boat and they have invited me to stay in their place have a night how nice is that! This is Invincible Bend.

Barry Avery at Little River Cottage, Invincible Bend.

Tomorrow I make for Robinvale, where I will stock up on supplies.

Day 11: 1191 to 1124 km to the sea: Beach campsite - Robinvale

Day 11: Wednesday 28/11 

Beach campsite - Robinvale

River markers: 1191 to 1124 km from the sea.

Distance travelled today: 67 km. 

Total distance travelled: 588 km.

Sunrise at my beach campsite.

Last night I did not sleep well, the hot weather hung around like an old friend until I was too tired to cook. I snacked on nuts. Snacked is too polite. I ate heaps. By the evening, through the night and into the morning I felt like a walking tub of peanut butter. My mouth tasted of it, my breath smelt of it. Yuk!

Sunrise and ready for an early start - with a 40 deg day predicted.

With hot temperatures predicted again for today (39 degrees celsius) and very hot weather (45 degrees celsius) for Thursday, I decided to make for Robinvale and rest out the heat in a cabin. As usual this would also give me a chance to recharge my electronic devices and upload those photos which had so stubbornly reused to do so and had drained my battery power over the last few days. I was up before the dawn. The dawn chorus was quiet today. Perhaps the birds had sung themselves out in their screeching before the thunderstorm and their rejoicing in the luscious, rainforest like atmosphere afterwards. After having been lazy and suffered for it, I cooked a proper brekky. I like to have as big a brekky as I can to keep me going through the day. I haven packets of pre-mixed oats, milk powder, sugar and raisins which cook up to a filling porridge. The oats and raisins provide fibre and a source of slow releasing energy through the day. The sugar helps get me going. Over the past week or so, I have been having fried eggs with tomatoes and onions as well, which is delicious, but takes extra time to clean the pan. I was getting a bit sick of this heat and wanted to get off early, so today I tried boiling my eggs. To save the metho which I use as fuel for my trangia (camp stove) I popped them into the kettle which I was using to boil water for a cuppa. This gave me a chance to check whether they were still good. If they stand on end in the water, they are starting to get old and won't taste the freshest, if they float then they can't be trusted any more. They tasted great, but were quite a challenge to chase around the trangia lid. It was as though they did not want to be eaten. :)

My kayak's wake catchiing the sun's rays.

I have a fair share of dried instant meals, soups, noodle and rice mixes, as well as packaged, ready to go foods, like diced peaches in syrup, but my favourite foods are those that come in nature's packaging. Eggs, apples, bananas, tomatoes, avocados, carrots, onions, garlic and ginger. These are refreshing rewards during the day, or tasty additions to the evening meal. Added to the health benefits, they are also biodegradable, so I don't need to turn my boat into a floating rubbish bin.

I was packed and ready by dawn. Just time enough to photograph the morning light. The beach I was camped on was almost like an island. It had a little bit of river, like a stream separating it from the main beach and was covered by a scattering of young trees. It was amongst these that I had set up my tent. The perfect cracked and curling edges of the rich silt that the river had left on the beach told me that I was one of the first big living creatures on the island. Only a kangaroo had been there before. 

When young trees emerge from a flood, many of their branches die. Many look for all intents and purposes, dead. However, as the rising sun shone through their skeletal frames, it reflected off young green shoots sprouting from the trunks. On closer inspection, these were covered in green St Andrews Cross insects, enjoying the sweet sap which the trees had stored in their roots all this time and were now using to help their young shoots grow. Invisible in normal daylight, a myriad of fine spider webs also became apparent. When I see the old river red gums, with their hollows and generous branches, home to so many things I often find myself thinking of the expression 'Tree of Life'. This morning I realised that the right to this name is not the exclusive right of old trees. 

Getting closer to Robinvale, the banks are covered in forest once again.

Today's stretch was mostly forested, it did not take me through any towns. Again I saw no boats and only a few fishermen. As the day heated up there was good reason for people to be indoors, especially now that there is air conditioning. As a kid growing up in a small country town, I remember when air conditioners were a luxury. Not everyone had one and the ones that we had were not all that good. The local barber, Doughy Elliot, like so many others, used to put a sign up on his door, "Closed due to the heat. Gone down the river." And if you went down the river to look for him, you would find half of Echuca there. People had there favourite spots, the pontoon was where the teenagers hung out, swimming from one side of the river to the other to watch each other, or out to the passing paddle steamers, hoping to grab onto the rudder and get a free trip upstream and a refreshing float down. The paddle steamers used to gun it through this area, so grabbing hold of the rudder was some feat. Families would be at one of the many beaches, deck chairs in the water at the edge of the river and kids playing in the sand. Others used boats to enjoy the cooling breeze off the river. These days the pontoon is gone and although people still use the river to cool off, they also have their air conditioners and we constantly hear the warning, "stay out of the river" it is dangerous. It is dangerous, for sure, but you'd be a fool to ignore the beauty at our front doorstep. I hope to be able to share some of that beauty through my photos, amateur as they are.

Meilmann Station shearing shed.

Beach at Meilmann Station. Full of corellas.

At the 1174 kilometre mark I passed Meilmann Station. Like many isolated stations, it is its own community. It seemed as though each of the kids and their partners had built their own homes there, each in their own style. What caught my eye, however, was the old shearing shed,neither its corrugated iron chimney. Like the one I had seen a week earlier, this one also backed onto the river. Shearing is hot work. Unlike the other it was silent. I drifted past, enjoying the view, imagining what it would be like to live there, admiring their choose of ground high above the floods and listening to the corellas which had occupied the just as impressive beach on the other side of the river. The name 'Meilmann' was painted roughly, with a large broad brush on a water tank near to the river. Beside it a new pump hummed.

Not the oldest of stations, Meilmann was established in 1925 by the Gorman family. They still own the station, which in a time where properties change hands very often and especially between generations is quite something. The name Meilmann equates the local aboriginal word for 'place of many frogs'. Since 2001, Meilmann has also been producing wines. A Shiraz and Cabernet Sauvignon are available. They have a frog on their label. On their website, http://www.meilman.com.au/ the family show their pride in maintaining wildlife in the red gum forests and wetlands on their farm. I knew there was something that appealed to me about this place.

Snags in the cutting from the last photo, usually accompanied by strong currents as the river drops faster than if it went the long way.

The river was rising constantly now, not because of rain, or releases from upstream reserves, but because it was now under the influence of the Euston Weir. Euston is the neighbouring town to Robinvale, like Echuca-Moama, each is in its own state and the competition between those states even today, affects their history and psyche. It was hard to put a figure on it, but every 10 kilometres or so that I paddled the banks were about 40cm lower. This may not seem like much, but by the time I was in Robinvale the river had almost reached the top of the bank in places. Nothing like Torrumbarry mind you, where if a person was to sneeze the river would flow over the bank, but high never-the-less. The high river meant that the snags disappeared into the murky deep, but it also meant that with less current it was harder to spot them. I had a number of surprises as my boat passed over, or just by looming snags. The slower current meant less help and I pushed hard, careful, even in rest stops, to keep the boat moving. If my tail wash (the pressure waves that follow a boat) overtook me then I had stopped too long. The tail wash travels in both directions at half the speed  that the boat was travelling when it made them. It is embarrassing to be passed by one's own tail wash. :). Like Echuca, the high water makes water skiing very attractive: The Robinvale-Euston Classic is Ski Racing Victoria's premier event http://www.waterskiracing.com/ and like the Southern 80 is also 80 kilometres long and brings tourism dollars to the town. 

This beach was huge, and so inviting that I took a break under its cool shady trees. Near Robinvale.

Forest invading the beach.

Kangaroo footprints in the cracking river clay.

Since the current was slowing down, I was on the look out for any short cuts. I found one at 1169, a snaggy young cutting with lots of current (but nothing like Murphy's Island) that saved me 2 km. I took some photos of what it looked like on the river charts and in reality to share with those at home. I snuck through another, log hopping through its marsh like waters at 1155 to save another kilometre. This one did not really save time, but exploring these backwaters is fun and makes a change of pace from paddling on the big river. At the 1144 kilometre mark, a promising cutting turned out to be blocked by snags; even the water could hardly get through. I turned around and went out again, startling a few carp in the process who had been feeding in the warm shallow water. The biggest cutting, the pièce de résistance, was a cutting saving 10 kilometres just before Robinvale. By this time, in the heat of the early afternoon, anything that saved energy was welcome. I located Riverside Caravan Park just before the mammoth new bridge and pulled in.

All that remains of a river side saw mill. Here the logs from barges were pulled up the bank by winches to a  saw mill.

Ruins on the water's edge. Unknown origin.

Red cliffs near Robinvale.