Lowbidgee Day 7: Balranald towards the Murray River.

Murrumbidgee: Hay - Boundary Bend: Day 7: Balranald 52 km towards the Murray River (93 km).

Balranald Caravan Park

Map source: Mike Bremers: Murrumbidgee Canoe Trip 1995-2008

On this day I paddled from the Balranald Caravan Park to close to Canally Station. About 10km into the paddle I came across Yanga Station National Park and pulled out for a look around, before continuing onto the Balranald weir, where a portage was required. 

Map source: Mike Bremers: Murrumbidgee Canoe Trip 1995-2008

After portaging, I continued on another 35 km, almost to Canally Station where I set up camp for the night - leaving just over 40 km for the last day. 

Map source: Mike Bremers: Murrumbidgee Canoe Trip 1995-2008

After a windy afternoon and evening where the tent filled with dust, I got up at 5:30 begrudgingly into an unseasonably cold 3 degrees celsius. On these trips you develop routines so that you do not forget anything. Everything has its place and a time to be packed. Clothes are one of those things. I was quite happy that I had had a chance to wash my paddling clothes in the caravan park, but when it came to my shorts, they were missing. I thought about paddling without them, but considered what that might look like at the portage at Balranald Weir and decided to look near the washing lines again. In the strong winds all of my underpants were scattered and I think I would have looked like a kid at the annual Easter Egg Hunt, running round to pick them up - but i had missed my shorts. Putting on my wildlife hero cap, I looked in trees, gardens, around buildings and finally found them on the edge of a storm water drainage channel. I now had all my pants. A good omen for the day if ever there was one.

All packed, I said goodbye to one of the other campers who had gotten up for some early morning photography and set off at 7:15 drifting, just to get a feel for the boat. A group of ducklings entered the river from the caravan park and swam to the other side of the river. I watched them pass and then, gingerly took my first paddle strokes. Everything ached. My gortex jacket, though working fantastically with cut up stubby holders to stop water running down my sleeves at the top of the paddle stroke, restricted my movement. It took some time to get things right. The paddle to Balranald Weir was uneventful. I gradually warmed up, but felt the tiredness of the previous six days of 8 hours of paddling every day.

Ten kilometres downstream of Balranald is Yanga Station. http://www.nationalparks.nsw.gov.au/yanga-national-park/yanga-homestead/historic-site There is a good clay landing area just downstream of the station, which you can run up on (which I did), or just ease up to in a civilised manner. Tree roots make getting out and in easier. The station is well worth a visit. A working station until relatively recently, it is now part of the Yanga National Park as part of the cultural heritage of the area. All of the original buildings are there, most in original (now run down) condition. There are several houses, shearers quarters, washrooms (etc) and a very large shearing shed. The place is designed for self guided tours and walking around, it is impossible not to imagine what it would have been like back then. Camping sites with toilets are a few hundred metres away and there are many information boards around.

Yanga Station: former working farm, now national park.

There is a huge woolshed...

...with interactive displays, pens, presses and runs, worn by time... 

One story was of when the first bale of wool was taken from Poon Boon Station on the Wakool by the paddle steamer Lady Augusta and the barge Eureka. All in all they took 441 bales of wool in that first experimental voyage. The ladies of the station helped roll the first wool bale down the plank and onto the Lady Augusta. The bale was then hoisted up the masthead of the barge Eureka, a sailor sitting upon it, and on his giving the signal, a gun was fired, which was succeeded by "three cheers for the first shipment of wool on the Murray".

Large information boards tell the history of settlement and the environment...

Reading through these, it becomes clear that the floodplains are unique...

...they are the true Riverina, seasonal wetlands and rich pastures over summer...

...able to sustain stock through the long hot summers because the spring floods soaked the soil...

"swarms with snakes"... many people still believe it does... with marshes and frogs in abundance, there is both habitat and food...

Early farmers showed remarkable foresight and understanding of the land they managed...

...they recognised that rather than being a threat, flood were essential to the survival of their new way of life...

Flood runners angle down from the perched riverbanks into the forest, like short creeks that run from the river onto the plains...

The story of how the first bale of wool was collected by paddle steamers on the Murray darling Basin.. Boom times were to follow...

There was also great information on the ecology of the floodplain and the history of water management schemes (and their planning) including what the first settlers thought, plans for eight locks and weirs to Hay and schemes to allow both irrigation and maintenance of the floodplains (by John Monash) as early as 1915 (before he was a general). Early pastoralists realised that plants can access water on land that has been flooded during drought. They argued that flooding was essential for their livelihood. They also maintained that forested areas should be kept, not just for red gum harvesting, bit as a refuge in drought, when all other feed was gone. Eventually, 4, not 8 weirs were built. Many areas now receive flooding, however some of the creeks which bring water into the forest where blocked in places like Narrandera. With not groundwater recharge possible in those areas, the forest systems that were there are dying. In the areas which do, the ecosystems are thriving, and towns like Balranald are poised to make the most of it.

The Murrumbidgee floodplain between Hay, Balranald and oxley forms a mid system ecological storage that promotes biodiversity and has a history of complementary land use and environmental management.

Including agroforestry and protected land on farms...

The broad shelled turtle has a shell the size of a dinner plate...

...whereas the short necked turtle is much smaller... both are threatened by foxes digging up their nests...

The Southern Bell Frog is the symbol of Balranald and has been adopted by the town, with frog sculptures throughout the town...

The soils in this environment have developed with regular flooding...

cracking deeply, filling with water and mulch during flooding, and then slowly releasing their stored water in drier times...

those areas which are not provided with environmental water for flooding are suffering, they are degraded landscapes...

In the Millennium Paddle Blog they described the Balranald weir as a "P.O.P." Mike Bremers also found it the easiest of weirs out of the four below Hay, so I hoped to have a similar experience. I had looked up the weir on google maps and it looked as if there was an alternative to climbing the banks in front of the weir. The old river course was still there and had only been blocked in the middle (diverting the river through the weir). I paddled into this dead end and walked the route, but found it blocked by a dense copse of saplings (only visible as a green smudge on this iphone screen shot). I got back in my boat and paddled to the weir, getting out as close to the weir as possible and selecting the least steep bank. There was no landing, or flat area so there was a real danger of losing gear whilst unpacking the boat. Dragging a fully loaded boat up a bank is not fun. In these situations, paddling as a group would make such takes much easier, however I do think that for a river that is being promoted as a canoeist's river, they could modify the bank a little. A 300 metre 'walk' later there is a steep bank to slide the boat down to get to the river. I don't know if I recommend holding onto the boat and risk being pulled into the drink, or letting it go and possibly having to swim after it. The whole portage took me about an hour. I was glad it was my last one.

An aerial shot of Balranald weir. You can see the now blocked, original channel of the river. There is no easy option at his weir if you are alone. A large new cyclone fence mean a long walk around the weir infrastructure is necessary before relaunching. A potential short cut on the southern bank just before the weir is not an option as the whole bank downstream has been layered with sharp bluestone which would damage the boat. The long walk is unavoidable.

Block and tackles were traditionally used to lift heavy weights and are still in use on yachts and sailing boats. The more times the rope passes through the 'block' of pulleys, the greater the mechanical advantage (though some of the advantage is offset by friction). A lightweight block and tackle might be useful thing to help get up steep banks, or over snags on the Murrumbidgee. Strong light-weight gear is available in sailing shops. Graphic: Wikipedia. More information on how pulleys work.

After the weir the river became more snaggy again, but it was to get worse. About twenty kilometres downstream of the Balranald Weir, snags stretching all the way across the river are the norm. I rode over many logs, ducked under others and pushed through the small branches of some. If you don't have to worry about your boat getting scratched, its a lot of fun, but it will keep you on you toes. That 'bad' section is narrower than the rest of the river. I suspect that it is younger, that the river has moved its path there only in the lat few hundred years: it is yet to develop the wide high banks so typical of the rest of the river. For a canoeist, it is a bit like paddling down the narrows, but in a river that is half the width and with ten times as many snags.

Again, sea, wedge tailed and little eagles were frequent, however corellas and cockatoos have appeared as well. The environment becomes more Murray river like, the closer you get to it, it seems. What did surpass me was seeing a red kangaroo. i did not know that their range extended this far South. It was a small one, as they often are on the limits of their range.

I found camp after having paddled about 52 km, which I was extremely happy with, given the hassle I had with the portage and the time I spent at Yanga Homestead. It has a small beach to land on and an area safe from trees. Behind it are piles of timber, up to two metres high, washed through in high river (not the place to be then). There are sawn tree stumps, and on these I made by evening meal. From camp I can see the sunset over the plains. I am not far from Canally Station and although I cannot see it, I can hear some children's' voices in the distance. Around my camp are screeching cockatoos and once darkness falls, the sounds of kangaroos moving through the woody understory.

My camp for the night was a comfortable one. I even found a natural jetty to climb out on...

At the top of the bank were several large stumps, which served as tables...

View from camp was to the West, making use of the evening light...

...as the sun descends, quiet settles upon the Murrumbidgee River.

With clear skies, sunset was golden, the slight movement of the river appears mystic...

My bush kitchen...

There are not many photos today, as my micro SD card fell into a deep crack in one of those stumps. Try as I may, I could not retrieve it. I have decided that it can become a fossil and amuse some future generation… or not. At least i am saved the hassle of uploading. Mind you I thought that there were some pretty good pictures on that card from today. "Them's the breaks" as my old mate Sharky would say.

Tomorrow is the last day (43 km approximately). I hope to break out into the Murray in the early afternoon. Its been a great trip, well worth doing, just pack lightly, plan generously and come well prepared for weirs.

Lowbidgee Day 5: Redbank towards Balranald.

Maps showing this section of the Murrumbidgee River (from Mike Bremer)

There is a steep bank with a clay ledge at the base of it, just after the Redbank weir reserve fence and before a series of water height measurement poles. It is possible to slide your boat down this bank. This activity would be easier with two people.

Balranald is 17km before the weir. The first you see of the town is a new bridge and a boat ramp. From this boat ramp you can walk into town. Around the corner is a good camping ground with a bank which is good to pull up on. 

Ready to leave Redbank, now just a slide down the steep bank to the river.

The day began with a steep slide down the river bank to the Murrumbidgee. Because the ground has sharp edged limestone in it which may scratch the boat, I lay down branches to slide my boat across, keeping it a few centimetres above the ground. It seemed to work, however I needed to hold onto the boat tightly to make sure it did not slide down into the water and continue the rest of the journey without me. 

Once in the water, I had just long enough to take in the beautiful morning sunlight spilling over the weir wall, bathing everything in a golden light, before the current took me so close to a snag which stretched from one side of the river to the other that I had to paddle to avoid becoming tangled. After this, the river opened up and paddling was good.
A few kilometres downstream from Redbank weir is a high red bank, where the river cuts through a sandhill; aptly named 'red bank hill' it is a great spot for a photo. Unfortunately just at that spot my GoPro which has 3000 photos left decided that it was full. I suspect the batteries are low and should have charged it last night, but didn't as the indicator said that it still had a full charge. It's getting a bit old and temperamental it seems. I should have charged. So no photo of redbank hill in the morning light. I recommend being there at that time though, and have your camera ready.

On the first corner below Redbank Weir is a snag which completely blocks the river; there is enough room for a tinny or canoe to slip through though.

The first ten kilometres were through river red gum forest. There have been at least 8 trees which stretched from one side of the river to the other. With most I could find a way through by zig zagging between the fallen trees as they stretched first from one side, then the other. Once I had to punch through some smaller branches. It is a good thing that everything is tied on securely. I think I have been lucky with the water levels. Even though Mike Bremers managed to get through at much lower water, I doubt that would have been possible with some of these trees.

Wedge-tailed eagle: wikipedia

There have been lots of wildlife, I have sighted sea eagles eight times already this morning, as well as a wedge tailed eagle and a kangaroo which had come down and I drink. The welcome swallows, so long my companions on the Murray trips are back. They are like little friends.

In the next ten kilometres I saw four fishing huts, one of them had a family camped nearby. It was made a timber off cuts, literally a slab hut. The roof had long since fallen in. Nether the less, a piece of history. I enjoyed a short chat with them and they enquired as to how and where I was headed. The last one was Breer Hut. This is marked on the map, but although it looks in good condition, seems a bit abandoned. Next to the hut, right on the river bank is the remains of an older hut, which has been converted into a stockyard.

Breer Hut. The original hut seems to have been converted into a stockyard. The water was more of a brownish colour, rather than the green that it looks in this photograph.

I saw two sacred kingfishers, returned from their northerly migration to the rainforests of Northern Australia and Papua New Guinea to breed in there'd gum forests of the Murray Darling Basin.

Sacred Kingfisher: Photo: MDBA The sacred kingfisher breeds in the river red gum forests of Australia's inland rivers before returning to Papua New Guinea, New Zealand and the Western Pacific Islands. It is called 'sacred' because the Polynesians believed that it had power over the waves on the ocean (wikipedia). What a mighty effort for such a small bird!

In the still low sun of morning restless flycatchers and willy wagtails forage for insects in the leaf litter. An emu sees me and first ducks behind the trunk of a large gum, but is curious, takes a peak and the follows for a short while. Not sure what made it more curious, the colour of my boat (bright red) or the occupants attempt to make emu noises.

Willy Wagtail: Photo: Climate Watch

Restless Flycatcher: Photo: Birdlife Australia Although they look similar to willy wagtails, they have a small crest, no cross looking eye-brow and a blue sheen to the feathers on their backs.

11:30 and I've already done 31km. Benefits of an early start. The river is quietening down as the day warms up. The trees are still full of bird call though: kookaburras, tree creepers and a bird with a call similar to a whip bird. On the river, the snags continue, but beaches are also starting to appear.

Snags frequently cross from one side of the river to the other.

Kangaroos, keep an nervous eye on what is happening down on the river.

Did you know that cormorants regurgitate their fish if they are too heavy to take off? To get it out their long neck, they shake their head violently until the fish flies out. I've seen black corms taunts do it twice now. The first time I thought it was trying to catch a fish that was just too big. It took a second time to work out what is actually going on. I saw a pelican do it yesterday too. They both can swallow surprisingly big fish - but can't fly with them.

Great Cormorant: found throughout the world. They regurgitate their fish not only to feed their young, but also to distract predators, or to allow them to escape them. I was amazed by the size of the fish they were able to swallow - sometimes as large as the bird itself.

Between the last paragraph and now I have spent my time improving my turtle spotting skills. They are elusive little fellas. After witnessing many splashes I had to conclude that the turtles were faster than I was: considering the relative sizes of the turtle to human brain and you can understand that this led to some degree of frustration. To become a turtle hunter I had to think like one. What would they naturally be afraid of? What would eat them? In a world Undisturbed by humans (the conditions they evolved in), threats could come from the sky. If I were a sea eagle, turtle would be like rump steak. So as a turtle I would have to always be watching the sky and the water in case they came in a low attack. The turtles were spotting me from 50m away, so I had to look further ahead than that and drift in. I also found that they prefer logs with a dark colour like themselves, that lie at a low angle to the water. I started to have success, eventually even being able to photograph one little fella. To be fair, I am no Harry Butler or Steve Erwin: the turtles are everywhere. I saw three on one log. Sometimes there just aren't enough logs.

The Murray Short Necked Turtle (Emydura macquarii).
Its shell is the size of dinner plate and does not have a snake like, or long neck.
Identification guide.

For the last 30km I haven't seen any Pelicans. The river has been very windy and I have noticed them struggle with short runways. One bird, in an effort to make good an escape resorted to flying through the bush. It looked like it was about to crash at any moment. What I have seen is more sacred kingfishers, some quite loud and ferocious in their alarm at having a threat near their nest. I also saw my first peregrine falcon flying powerfully through the trees.

Fsihermen's shack.

Old steam engine that used to drive the irrigation pumps. 

This bridge was not marked on the map and has a gate at each end, making it look provate. I think that it is made using army technology.

Hope to make ten more km today which will make a short run in to Balranald tomorrow. Camped at 62 km mark (Glen Avon Regulator), just off a fisherman's track (which I hope will keep the shooters in the distance away - they never like to shoot near where they know people to be). The banks are grey clay. I found an improvised boat ramp and ran my boat as far as I could up onto this before climbing out for a well earned break. Surprisingly, I had two bars reception. This would make it more likely that I would be able to update my blog, the photos from the day and let Ruth know that I was ok. I ate next to my boat to save carting all my food and cooking equipment to the top of the bank, where I had found a place safe from the many trees that lined the bank in this location. Dinner went down very well, and as the sun set for the evening, I retired to my tent to lie flat, rest and move out of reach of the mosquitoes that usually come out as night approaches. 

One of the unexpected highlights today was finding the paddle steamer turning (or passing) bays on some of the narrow stretches of the river. One, near Redbank, was particularly well preserved with no signs of silting or erosion. Almost worth a pilgrimage Peter Garfield? I have never heard of these before, but have no better explanation. They are not the beginnings of channels, or beginnings of the construction of regulators (as they are too big and in the wrong spots: not where the wetlands are) and they happen to be near stations where the river is narrow. I can just imagine in the old days how the steamers would have sounded their whistles regularly to let other boats that they were coming. If I remember the rules of the river correctly, the boat travelling downstream has right of way, because it is more difficult (or impossible) for them to stop. The paddle steamer coming upstream would have had to wait in a wide section. Sometimes these are many kilometres apart up here, so there would have been a lot of steam being blown. It would have sounded magnificent. What a loss when they were replaced by trains!