Showing posts with label Murray River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Murray River. Show all posts

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 47 Waikerie to Morgan

 

Day 47: 338 km Morgan 1st Dec 2016

Leaving the Murray River Queen - morning light - birds of prey - Big Toulca Flat - Woodcutters Reach - Lock 2 - Undercurrents - Bartels Landing - Floating seeds - Riverleigh Station - Tree health - Tipping points - North-West Bend - Morgan - Paddlesteamers & Wharf



Waikerie to Morgan

I left Waikerie early, before anyone else on the boat was up. The sun was up, it had risen about 5:30 and I had gotten up not long after that. Keeping breakfast simple, a couple of muesli bars, some fruit and a cup of tea, I was ready to push off at 7:30.

The light was beautiful and clear. That together with the smooth surface of the water and still flow out a real spring in my step. Morning light is not as harsh as what it is during the main part of the day. The colours come out. It's when you see just how amazing the bark on red gums can be. Paddling out of town, I passed a long row of houseboats waiting for their next outing, their next passage of discovery.
Whistling Kites have been the most common bird of prey along the river this year. There never used to be so many when I was a kid, but there were more Wedge-tailed Eagles. I don't know what has changed, perhaps they benefit from having fishermen around. Once the cliffs begun, Falcons started to appear. They like to sit at the top of trees on the cliff face and swoop down on their prey, which I imagine, could be any small bird or marsupial. All the more amazing when I saw a Fairy Martin chasing a falcon. It was swooping again and again on the falcon, pecking it on the back. While the falcon tried to get away. Brave little bird.

Again today they were great names like what coverage and Big Toluca Flat and Woodcutter Reach. I guess I shouldn't of been surprised when there weren't very few old trees on Woodcutters Reach.
All along the river I can hear the sounds of people raiding their pumps in preparation for the high water. Occasionally i can hear the voices of fruit pickers drifting down from amongst the orange orchards, however I can rarely see them.

Approaching Lock 2, the navigation pass is open. I can see that the water is at the top of the weir. It splashes up in the air ominously. To go that way would be very dangerous. At Wentworth weir, a tinny was caught in the turbulence behind the wall. The back end went under first, filling the boat with water. Soon the whole boat disappeared, only to resurface 100m downstream. There are signs which slow you where to go to be in the safe passage. You keep right of the green triangle (when going downstream) and left of the red squares. There are some pretty big swirls for the first 200m. If you keep under power (keep paddling) you come through it without too many involuntary course changes.

At Bartels Landing were two old farm houses and in front of them, an eclectic collection of boats. Both farm houses had orange groves behind them as is the old tradition in the area. A little further down stream is a vineyard. In the 1980s when the Australians discovered that there were other beverages besides beer, the Riverland wine industry boomed. It expanded till it seemed that everyone wanted to get into wine. In the late 90s and 2000 the wine industry crashed and with so many suppliers, prices plummeted. Now with quality assurance, interesting boutique wines evolving and export markets established, the wine industry is picking up again. Although there were only two houses there were about 6 boats. I love seeing people's boats, there is so much of their character that you can read in them and each boat has its own story as well. At Bartels Landing was one which looked like it had a proud history. Long and sleek, it's wooden hull looked more at home in the ocean then on the river. Seeing ocean boats is a common thing down this end of the Murray, it is so wide and deep and we're not all that far from the ocean. I now have around 360 km to go - that's a lot less than 2200 and I can feel that the end is getting near.

Approaching Riversleigh Station I can see the cliffs curving away to the North. The land in between them and the current river channel is low and beginning to flood. There's a lack of trees on that flat what trees I can see seem to be dead. On the edge of the river young red gums have sprouted following the 2011 flood. This high water event is predicted to be much higher in this area so all of that low land will get a drink, indeed the water is well on its way to flooding the whole area already. It will be interesting to see how it responds in the years to come. Red gum and black box seeds are carried by water over the land from parent trees. You can pick the extent of a high water level from the line of red gum saplings at its edge. The thickness and height of the saplings and later trees gives you an indication of when that flood happened. The rule of thumb is a centimetre a year. A four centimetre thick tree germinated 4 years ago (2012), a 50 cm thick one, about 50 years ago.

I camped opposite Riversleigh Station in 2012, above the beach and under some study black box trees. It had been really hot that day, thunderstorms were building and I chose what I thought was a safe campsite. I had just set up camp and had a cooling swim when the thunderstorm hit. With it came wild winds. Lightning flashed continually and my little tent was buffeted in all directions. When it hit nearby, it left a strong smell of ozone in the air for a while afterwards. It was gone soon after it began. I remember a cockatoo screeching as it flew. From the noises it was making it sounded like it had scored a direct hit. The poor thing had been scared out of his wits. After the thunderstorm, the sun set over the now flooded lowland across the river, turning the sky gentle hues of pink and purple. The trees at the beach campsite, despite four years of good rain, did not look any better than they did in 2012, if anything they seem to have declined further. If trees experiencing prolonged stress reach a tipping point from which they can no longer recover, it is all the more important that we ensure that the young trees and saplings are growing to replace them - otherwise we will lose those habitats entirely.

There are several more straights on the run into Morgan, those opposite cliffs had a single row of old trees as magnificent as any you'll see anywhere on the Murray. With cliffs on one side and old trees on the other, this channel had not changed for hundreds of years. In other areas there was almost a total loss of trees. Saplings thrived, forming a dense layer of green, but the older trees were all gone. I couldn't work out why.

For almost all of it's journey so far, the Murray River has taken a North-Westerly course. This changes just before Morgan, where, defeated by the same uplift of land that built the Flinders Ranges, the Murray changes its course and heads South to the sea. On the river, this place is called the North-West Bend. When the current slams into these cliffs, it swirls around and even flows in the other direction. If you don't keep your eye in the water, you can be spun around.

I paddled past Morgan's old Wharf, second only too Echuca's in size. There are said to be 6 wrecks in the deep water in front of it. As the railways expanded, the paddle steamer trade evaporated. Crews waited for jobs that never came, eventually abandoning their boats.

At Morgan I pulled in a grassy bank. White floats tied together a rope and some small white signs pointed out that this was a kids swimming area. I sailed over and beached high enough to keep my feet dry. I met a couple who had travelled down from Cairns to paddle down the Murrumbidgee, but had given up because of Blackwater, the number of dead livestock in the river and difficult to predict currents. They had already paddled the length of the Murray in their beautiful home made boat. Their dog always travelled with them. It sat on a mat between the two cockpits, resting its head on their solar panel. We traded experiences and stories until Kev, my host for the night arrived. Kev is planning to paddle full distance in 2017. Now he had three people he could talk too about his ideas. I think he is going to have a great trip.

Tomorrow I will head towards Blanchetown and the last weir on the Murray; not sure where I will camp yet.


Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 46 Schultzes Landing - Waikerie

Day 46: 382 km Waikerie 30th Nov 2016

Utopian dreams - Irrigation - Oranges - Murray River Queen - Rain - Cliffs - Great Yarra Reach - Armstrong brothers - Newspaper Interview - Local knowledge - It's complicated



Schultzes Landing to Waikerie

I woke early, packed by 7 and after a cuppa, hit the river by 7:30. I wanted to make an early start so that I could spend a good portion of day poking around Waikerie. Waikerie is a special little town, built around the tall limestone and sandstone cliffs that typify this area. Like many of the other towns in the area, it began as a communal settlement, where all produce grown and wages earned were to be shared with the all residents. Like most places who did not alter these rules, the utopian scheme failed. Those settlers that remained did however establish successful irrigation schemes. The area was famous for its oranges. The bins in the main street are testament to those times: they actually look like oranges. A large farmer's cooperative handled produce until recently, where it was brought by a commercial juice company. Now local farmers have diversified. Oranges and citrus are still grown, but so too are grapes, mangos and grain crops. The community is proud of its river and settler history. The great events of floods and droughts and peoples struggle to survive and thrive in the, at times, very harsh conditions binds these river towns like a thread. A book in the local library was titled, “Where were you when the waters broke? Recollections of the 1956 flood.” And each community has pictures of when the river ran dry and tales of how they coped. Waker was a centre of local government. Its old buildings, built from limestone still stand proud in the main street. When the local pub burnt down about 5 years ago, they reused the old stone, discovering in the process, the original ceremonial stone and a dedication to the lady that performed the opening. Now revealed, it has taken pride of place in the new building. When we keep our connections with the past, and seek to understand them, we are the richer for the experience.

I was not sure where I would stay in Waikerie. The caravan park which I thought came down to the water’s edge was still under construction and the free camping areas were too far out of town to leave my boat safely. Lying awake last night, I found that the Murray River Queen, the first of the new fleet of paddle steamers built for the Lower Murray in the 1970’s offered accommodation. If I could leave my boat safely tethered to her, I thought this could be a good option. I had followed the Murray River Queen’s story ever since she was launched. Growing up in a river town, I took an interest in such things. In Echuca, we restored old boats. In South Australia, they were building new ones. This break with tradition was interesting. The owners were clever. They travelled to Europe and to places along the Murray and saw what worked and what didn’t. What were passengers looking for? The Murray River Queen was the answer. It struggled in the first few years, but once featured on Bill Peaches “Australia” program it was a huge commercial success. Two other passenger boats were built, the Murray Explorer and the Murray Princess, however the Queen remained passengers’ favourite (at least according to the history on the boat ;). I wanted to get into Waikerie early enough to check out the situation and, if it turned out not to be suitable, to have enough time to find an alternative further down the river.

In contrast to the sunny days I have been experiencing for the last two weeks, today began overcast and with the threat of rain. In fact I could see it falling on the horizon. The wind was building too, and it was not long before I donned full bad weather gear. This was not as dramatic as it sounds and it meant that in the wind and rain, which actually persisted for almost three hours, I stayed nice and warm. It was one of the occasions where I was happy that my cameras were waterproof. In that regard, I did not need to worry about the rain at all.

There were spectacular cliffs today. I was able to paddle alongside their base and hear the slap of water against their hollowed out bases, where the water has turned their solid mass into a honeycomb like structure. Great Yarra Reach ran for 12 kilometres in a westerly direction, making a slight northerly curve as it did so. It merges into Island reach, where, after a short break, the cliffs continue. Island Reach swings South into Waikerie through Cockle, then Hart Reaches, all the time accompanied by cliffs on one side. On the other are a row of the most magnificent ancient red gums that you will see anywhere on the Murray. Their twisted roots and branches like fingers caressing the air and soil. The land available for the river to meander in is quite limited. You can clearly see the high ground on both sides. In Waikerie, it is only 1km wide. This means that in times of flood, the water rises higher here than in places where it is able to spread out more. Local authorities are planning for a rise of over 3m. Towns and particularly crossings tend to be built in places where the river has a bottleneck. Bridges and ferry cables don’t have to be as long. Before either of these, it meant that stock did not have to swim as far, which meant that less would drown.

The Murray River Queen surpassed all of my expectations. My boat is now tethered to her stern, like an obedient puppy. The rooms are excellent. There is a great cafe / bar and dinner is sounding promising. I’ve booked into their Thai restaurant, which has a good reputation and the staff are both friendly and proficient. After a shower which felt like something you would write home about (they feel novel and special when you are roughing it in the bush most nights) I set off to walk around town and get a sense of history. The barman directed me to a cliff top walk to the town lookout, so I set off. A few minutes into the walk I was stopped by a man asking “Murray River Paddle?” He was one of two Armstrong brothers I was to meet that day, first Bruce and then Ian. Bruce had been following my page. It had first caught his interest when I shared a picture of a DC3 in a paddock near Barham. He has a friend who is restoring one and has one motor functioning, but is looking for parts for the second. I promised to share the location. The Armstrongs are local farmers. They have been in Waker all their lives. “Wouldn’t live anywhere else” said Bruce. He took me on a tour of his town, including the lookout and its proud buildings. He explained how the pumps had continually been improved; first steam, then oil then a kind of gas turbine, diesel and now electric. The pumps have to be capable of pumping water over 114 feet vertically from whence it is distributed throughout the region. Bruce had been looking for me. He knew I was arriving this morning and had brought in a supply of oranges and peaches from his farm. From the lookout, he showed me how the river moved through the landscape and explained how the first settlers irrigated and farmed the old billabongs using flood water and the natural cycles. Bruce set up an interview with the local paper for the afternoon and dropped me off at the local library so that I could read up on its history.

Relaxing after the interview with a cold Corona, I met his brother Ian and wife Josie. Ian was a walking encyclopaedia on river heights and flows over the years. He could also identify which trees were from which floods in the landscape and provide dates for when channels were cut. He remembered the 1956 floods, which he said were the fourth or fifth high river in a row. He also said that they would not have been as bad for the town had levees not been built on some of the land on the opposite bank to prevent flooding there. This story I hear up and down the river. Water has to go somewhere. If it can’t run over its natural floodplain, it will flood elsewhere. Many of these old levels still exist. Whether they were built with, or without permission, they have consequences for the whole community. Ian was able to tell me the story of individual trees. The growth rates don’t fit with published scientific reports, showing just how important local knowledge is to understand the full picture. This kind of intimate knowledge of the landscape is what I am looking forward to gathering on the second part of the PhD. It challenges and grounds my investigation, provides a bigger and more accurate picture of what is going on. Like Belinda Hansen said, it's complicated, but simple. Simple once you understand. Throughout this trip I have been amazed by how little it takes to get people talking about their river. It is so important to them, and they want people to understand, they want them to make the right decisions and so they want to share what they know.

Sitting on the back deck of the Murray River Queen, the sun is shining. The water is now calm, reflecting the blue of the sky. On the banks the leaves are the bright green they turn when the sunlight shines through them. In the distance I can see the cliffs I will paddle past tomorrow on my way to Morgan. I am told that they are rich in fossils and am hoping to see some.

Murray River Paddle 2016 Day 27 Robinvale to Tammit Station Nov 11


Robinvale to Wemen







Paddling out of Robinvale caravan park was a bit surreal. I had to dodge the electricity poles that the caravans normally plug their extension cords into, watch out for fences and pick a course into the current through the garden. Once out it was through the bridge and down the wide, high river. The current was flowing well and there was no sign of the predicted light winds, providing the same glassy surface I had been blessed with he last few days. I passed Euston, older but much small than Robinvale, perhaps because NSW in the early days of settlement allowed Victoria to get a head start on them. Melbourne was much closer, but it meant that all the wheat, sheep and wool went to Melbourne rather than Sydney. 








Towards the end of the paddle steamer days, both states competed to get rail to even the most distant communities, but by then one of the twin towns along the Murray had begun to dominate. It was usually the Victorian one. An interesting legacy from those times is that most NSW towns have Victorian area codes. Phone numbers in Deniliquin, 80km North of the border, begin with 03. Euston club looked really welcoming, especially as I could paddle right up to the green lawns leading to its entrance. It looked as if they designed that way, to be welcoming to river people. However, I had only just begun. There was no stopping now.

On quite a few days i have thought, I can take it easy today, there is a good strong current out there, only to find that large segments of the day had dead water. Although there were some tight bends and quite a few places where the river flowed along flood runners and anabranches through the forest, the current was good all day. There were no big anabranches, only cut-offs, short cuts the river had made when the meanders near one another. Its difficult to say how long it takes these meanders to become the main stream, but if they have a clay base it seems that it can take the best part of a life-time.

Around the corner from Euston is the Euston weir. When there is a high river, lock masters let down gates at the top of part of the weir to create what they call a navigation pass. This provides more depth for boats that want to pass over the weir. Because in most cases, the weir is still present beneath the water, water is higher on one side than the other, creating a ‘step’. Frank Tucker, in Oct 2016 Paddle Boat News, says that this system causes trouble for paddle steamers, especially when travelling upstream. To make it up the step, Captains have to approach the weir at full throttle, hoping to bounce up. If they do not have enough speed, or the current is too strong (and it really is quite strong now) then there is a danger that they will get stuck halfway, with the paddle wheel blades biting air. On the way downstream, the rudder can find itself in the air and the paddle steamer drifting sideways. Understandably with this deal of risk involved, it is not paddleboat captains favourite activity. In my kayak I was wary of undertows and so called the weir master, who directed me through the smoothest water. In a kayak it was like going down the smallest of slides. No drama, but better safe than sorry.

Euston weir is set into a high sedimentary rock face on one side. The other side is forest. If nervous about the weir, the lock master said, you can just paddle through the forest. The clay cliffs continue on for 2 kilometres. They have three clear layers, two red layers, with a yellow layer in between, each being about 4 meters thick. River Red Gum and River Myall, the wattle with the pen like leaves grow from its base and seem to be protecting it from the eroding force of the river current by slowing it down next to the cliff face. The vegetation was so effective at slowing the current, that it actually ran backwards close to the cliff. Where ever there are eddies and strong currents there are whirlpools, so breaking out into the current took some care. Ten kilometres later the cliff appear again, this time even more imposing. They make for great photos. I hope some of mine work out.

Red sands of the Mallee Cliffs. Old sand dunes, now being cut into by the river.



Tree martin nests. Safe on the face of a cliff. You can also find them under bridges or in large hollow trees. Preferred spots are over water.









Most of the day the scenery alternated between River Red Gum Floodplain Forest and Black Box Woodland, some of which was grazed. However, just when you settle into a pattern the river throws a curved ball. Just beneath Tammit Station (1078 mark) is Danger Island (also know as Gell’s Island). A lot of things that are dramatic at low river are hardly noticeable at high river (like Euston Weir), but Danger Island is not one of them. Even though you can’t see the rocks which extend halfway across the river - real rocks, and sharp too, that could slice a kayak or tinny open just by looking at them - the swirls (sudden vertical upwellings or downwards movements) were shocking and to make things more dangerous, they would appear in apparently calm water. Using the map as a guide to what was beneath the water I gave it a wide berth and travelled through with speed, so as to have maximum steerage.



Lunch break

Old pumping equipment. Before the weirs, all irrigation was carried out by steam driven pumps along the river banks.



Not long after Tammit, I made camp in the shade of two Black Box trees. All around me thunder is rolling through the clouds and in the distance I can see downpours happening in isolated spots. Occasionally strong gusts of wind come through. I am eating cold tonight and enjoying the comfort and safety of my tent. Though I do hope the predicted large hailstones pass me by.

Tomorrow I will be paddling through Hattah National Park and the following day hope to arrive in Colignan, then Karadoc and arriving in Mildura on Tuesday.

High organic matter content has dropped the pH making the water silky smooth to touch. Like when soapy, rain water forms bubbles which sometimes last for many seconds on the surface.

Strong current sweeping past a tree trunk that would normally be on a river island, but now looks like it is mid channel.

Old shed at Tammit station

My choice of campsite has been chosen by others before me... signs of a midden.

Tammit Station dry irrigation channel

My camp for the night

In the evening I was hit by a powerful storm. It flattened whole areas of trees (and my tent), but I escaped without damage.



















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.