Wanambe - her first journey

Down River to Somewhere
15 th Nov 2020
We put in at the Torrumbarry Weir, on the Murray River, Victoria, Australia, amidst wake boats and jet skis and fast things, amidst wind gusts that cracked and the trees that swayed, amidst weir lights, port and starboard, amidst the ring of steel coming down, the winds roared and the boats moved on the water from side to side. Thunder and lightning very very frightening.
We launched the three, The Smigglepot, The Sneaky Snag and me, The Wanambe. For the slow boat to cruise downstream past Cohuna and gunbower to somewhere.
16th Nov 2020
The lock master docked us, as the river subsided, in the chamber that brings us downstream. Lock No 26 on the River Murray, where there is no hurry, on a wooden boat headed somewhere downstream. We took the day to get grounded, as the river was sounded and the wild winds subsided. Nature made her noises, sonnets of screeching, poetry slamming by birds, the grasses and rushes, sweet movement that gushes, gum nuts and cocoons falling from trees, the mopoke in the distance, we see nature’s persistence, to keep wild places alive. The Wanambe traversed proudly, through a wild river with waves, the headwinds pushing her to attention. She consumed a third of her battery storage in 3 kms while battling 30 km wind gusts, she forged ahead to find safe harbour and here we remain for the night, after a sunny afternoon, we are fully charged and ready to face the new nautical day. |

17th Nov 2020
8 am we were ready to sail, from 1634 we glided past Dead Mans Hole and I wonder who died there ,past Norris Bend and we shimmied past the cutting at Toongabbie, with the hellish history from Ireland, past the Swan Lagoon, past the forgotten wharf at Old Cohuna where the river highways were full of trade and inland transport. In Recent centuries the paddle steamers plyed from wharf to wharf receiving and dispatching goods and people. For thousands of years before that the rivers were full of traditional canoes made from the bark of trees that travelled the length trading and commuting, we pass Mopoke Bend.
Wild pigs on the riverbank near Kate Malone Bend where we stop for the day. The electric battery provides beautifully. Today we travelled 32 kms.battery level at 32%. Full sun now shining on the panels so expect to be fully powered up by the morn.
At sundown on the Tuesday 17 th of November, Wanambe had 59% charge, not my expectations I was hoping for more, so what a delight to know that tomorrow we cannot travel too far. This means exploration of the banks.
8 am we were ready to sail, from 1634 we glided past Dead Mans Hole and I wonder who died there ,past Norris Bend and we shimmied past the cutting at Toongabbie, with the hellish history from Ireland, past the Swan Lagoon, past the forgotten wharf at Old Cohuna where the river highways were full of trade and inland transport. In Recent centuries the paddle steamers plyed from wharf to wharf receiving and dispatching goods and people. For thousands of years before that the rivers were full of traditional canoes made from the bark of trees that travelled the length trading and commuting, we pass Mopoke Bend.
Wild pigs on the riverbank near Kate Malone Bend where we stop for the day. The electric battery provides beautifully. Today we travelled 32 kms.battery level at 32%. Full sun now shining on the panels so expect to be fully powered up by the morn.
At sundown on the Tuesday 17 th of November, Wanambe had 59% charge, not my expectations I was hoping for more, so what a delight to know that tomorrow we cannot travel too far. This means exploration of the banks.
18th Nov 2020
I began to take little samples of plants that I see along the way and would like to get them identified for my log. I found, horehound scattered in clumps, Acacia (Black Wattle)in full seed with pods dripping off the limbs, little mint looking plants with no aroma, grasses and reeds, thistle and Paterson’s curse. I am always looking for aromatic plants. Those plants that when you rub the plant together with your fingers, a smell emanates from the leaves ,or bark or wood or seeds or fruit. I imagine gathering some intel on these….. This river will be leaving Yorta Yorta lands soon and entering into Berapa country at any moment. Maybe we are in it already. I try to remain mindful of ancient boundaries and recognise that I know so little of Australia’s true history. The NSW Maritime river kilometre signs are lacking so it is difficult to know where one is on Murray River Charts by Maureen Wright and the indigenous history, the old lore, is camouflaged in nature only willing to show itself with time. Wild places allow mankind to feed the soul, to fill in the hollow spaces inside of oneself. Wild places foster the human spirit and teach us lessons spontaneously and sporadically. Wild rivers sustain the natural world and nourish our ecosystems, they meander and twist through the land creating pockets upon pockets of ever changing life. Water is life. The sliver of a moon went down and I note that I am not even aware as to if the moon is waxing or waning. Is this a new moon forming or is this the last of the old moon waning away. Times gone by that this was imperative information to ones survival. These days it’s almost irrelevant. A mopoke is calling at Kate Malone’s Bend. We sneak past campers at Horseshoe Lagoon and Bowmans and Scotty Bend to the place where the red belly black snake was swimming from Victoria to NSW. That place between 1600 and 1598 where the cockatoos screeches remind me of Sumatra and deep jungles where the screeching monkeys sounds pierce the air. But I am in Australia no monkeys here, instead we have the most stunning of parrots and cockatoos that rival the worlds best. The wilderness continues along this river. Each side, north and south delineate different states different rules, different compliance’s and different government leaders. Camp oven cooking tonight has left us all satisfied and full bellied. The Pleiades star cluster aka Seven Sisters rises from the east as satellites zoom past. Thousands of male Crickets are rubbing their body parts together and make the chirping sound, frogs are humming. As I get to know the Wanambe I am feeling more confident in handling her. I did a couple of 360 turns in the wind. A pirouette if you will. The slow boat to somewhere continues and I am now becoming a sun hunter for my fuel. Loving this mighty river. So until the next entry into my captains journal I will sign off |
Thurs 19th Nov
On any day Australia’s water is sold like a commodity to foreign investors.see below. One of the many large international monoculture companies that profit from our water is Olam. A big mover in nuts, cocoa, coffee and cotton. So they had some spare water and have sold it to a Canadian pension fund to make more profit.
SINGAPORE (THE BUSINESS TIMES) - A unit of Olam International is selling 89,085 megalitres (about 89 billion litres) of its permanent water rights in Australia to a related entity of the Public Sector Pension Investment Board (PSP Investments), one of Canada's largest pension investment managers, for A$490 million (S ...Dec 3, 2019
These are the words from the Singapore Paper. Straits Times.
How did we get to the point that we are corporatising our water. It is no longer attached to land….anyone can now buy our water. Even though we are the driest continent on the earth…..
Meanwhile I am on the river that they are selling. Soon boats won’t be able to ply the rivers unless an irrigation flush is ordered and sent down. This is madness.Not sure what the fish and all the other critters that live along the watercourses think.
Family farms matter, water for consumptive use matters, water for our wetlands and rivers matter. Large mono culture international corporations do not matter to me but they do to our national political leaders who bend over backwards to get their buddies a good deal. Meanwhile, we on the rivers and wetlands are witnessing a devastating decline in ecosystems before our eyes. Just as the wild places of the world are diminishing so are ours in Australia.
It’s painful to watch.
Through the worlds only Redgum Forests (Eucalyptus Camaldulensis)
We shimmy through the Pericoota State forests edges on the north banks and on the south banks Gunbower State Forest. The bird life is incessant, hardly a moment of silence.
Past Stanton Break at 1596 and the Dead River Lagoon, onwards past Gravel Bend at 1568 and our stop for the night is at Social Bend at 1576, where we three vessels will be social.
Koondrook / Barham is only 50 kms away so we think that we will arrive in 2 days. Im looking forward to going back to Barham, it is a place of wonderful memories and great learning for me. I arrived there over 40 years ago to build the Paddle steamer Emmylou and I am so proud to still see her plying the Murray River regularly.
So our journey to somewhere continues down river. I hear singing from the Sneaky Snag, I hear snortling from the Smigglepot.
All is as well as can be on this most amazing river system,
So until the next chapter of my Captains Journal
I’ll sign off
On any day Australia’s water is sold like a commodity to foreign investors.see below. One of the many large international monoculture companies that profit from our water is Olam. A big mover in nuts, cocoa, coffee and cotton. So they had some spare water and have sold it to a Canadian pension fund to make more profit.
SINGAPORE (THE BUSINESS TIMES) - A unit of Olam International is selling 89,085 megalitres (about 89 billion litres) of its permanent water rights in Australia to a related entity of the Public Sector Pension Investment Board (PSP Investments), one of Canada's largest pension investment managers, for A$490 million (S ...Dec 3, 2019
These are the words from the Singapore Paper. Straits Times.
How did we get to the point that we are corporatising our water. It is no longer attached to land….anyone can now buy our water. Even though we are the driest continent on the earth…..
Meanwhile I am on the river that they are selling. Soon boats won’t be able to ply the rivers unless an irrigation flush is ordered and sent down. This is madness.Not sure what the fish and all the other critters that live along the watercourses think.
Family farms matter, water for consumptive use matters, water for our wetlands and rivers matter. Large mono culture international corporations do not matter to me but they do to our national political leaders who bend over backwards to get their buddies a good deal. Meanwhile, we on the rivers and wetlands are witnessing a devastating decline in ecosystems before our eyes. Just as the wild places of the world are diminishing so are ours in Australia.
It’s painful to watch.
Through the worlds only Redgum Forests (Eucalyptus Camaldulensis)
We shimmy through the Pericoota State forests edges on the north banks and on the south banks Gunbower State Forest. The bird life is incessant, hardly a moment of silence.
Past Stanton Break at 1596 and the Dead River Lagoon, onwards past Gravel Bend at 1568 and our stop for the night is at Social Bend at 1576, where we three vessels will be social.
Koondrook / Barham is only 50 kms away so we think that we will arrive in 2 days. Im looking forward to going back to Barham, it is a place of wonderful memories and great learning for me. I arrived there over 40 years ago to build the Paddle steamer Emmylou and I am so proud to still see her plying the Murray River regularly.
So our journey to somewhere continues down river. I hear singing from the Sneaky Snag, I hear snortling from the Smigglepot.
All is as well as can be on this most amazing river system,
So until the next chapter of my Captains Journal
I’ll sign off
20 th Nov 2020
A mob of 15 or so kangaroos run thru the bush, a snake swims from one side of the river to the other, swirling and curling and pushing itself forward with its body. Cockatoos screech and call out from high, crows let each other know that a boat approaches, Nankeen Night herons move from one camouflaged limb to another, Sacred Kingfishers dive into the water to catch fish, it really is a wilderness and it is right at my back door. Pairs of ducks are dotted on the water and I feel glad that they are safe, no shooting of native birds on the Mighty Murray unlike most of the wetlands in Victoria where duck shooting is rampant.
The banks of the river erode as water levels rise and drop. With each flush of water that is being delivered the muddy clay sides slip into the river. Many bends of the river have no growth to prevent erosion, the grasses all gone and trees washed away. In places the blackberries are thick and flowering.Pattersons curse and thistles abound and I have not seen river mint (Mentha Australis) nor old man weed (Centipedes Cunninghamii )
We could do with a River Revegetation Army to reveg the banks and keep the riparian zone healthy and able to withstand the constant rise and fall of the waters. Now that’s an idea..must speak to Our PM. Haha!!
I can imagine what this river would have looked like a couple of centuries ago, reeds, grasses, rushes, herbs and creepers amongst the gumtrees and wattles holding tight on the banks as canoes glided down the river.
The Sneaky Snag with Carol and Marion onboard have gone ahead to find a sandbar. We are all sandbar hunters today.Smigglepot with Terrance at the helm cruises at around 4 km per hour with us.
One young man on the bank called out and said we were “living the dream”. He had a good looking camp on the go ready for the weekend revelling while the white faced herons flopped onto a tree.
In some places it feels so wild that a crocodile or a hippo might slide into the water. It’s often referred to as the Kakadu of the south. It is a beautiful world we live in when we are out here.
My zeer pots are working a treat, they are keeping fresh stores at a cool temp and allowing us to eat well. I love the simplicity of them. A terracotta pot inside a terracotta pot with sand in between the two and damp cloths on top of the lids to create evaporation. No electricity needed.
A swamp wallaby gently makes its way down the river bank and sips water from the edge. We had lunch at Cemetery Bend, saw Graham’s Hut and the old Gray,s mill site, then stopped for the day with 27 % battery at 1554 where we had a swim and threw out a fishing
line.
We have lost contact with Sneaky Snag. No ph, no internet, sos only. She is way ahead of us on a sandbank somewhere between 1552 and 1550. We are not sure where we are again as the NSW Maritime km markers are missing. I bet that Sneaky Snag is just around the next bend.
But time for Wanambe to kiss the sun and recharge for tomorrow’s cruising. Koondrook and Barham tomorrow . According to the schedule that we do not have, we are right on track.
The sails are working well, leaning into the wind and able to move easily as we motor sail into each bend. With the sails only we have reached 7 km per hr. But generally we have bedded into the 4 km per hr speed. A perfect style for Wanambe.
A lone bright pink inflatable flamingo was stuck in branches floating aimlessly while a butterfly caught a ride on a gum leaf and was floating downstream. It’s all go on the river. Mobs of White Winged Choughs gather for their family meetings.
So tonight we can’t quite agree where we are on the charts and the Murray Rivers character show her diamonds on the water. That’s all for now aside to say that every night from Torrumbarry to here a mopoke calls.
So until the next entry
I will Sign off.
A mob of 15 or so kangaroos run thru the bush, a snake swims from one side of the river to the other, swirling and curling and pushing itself forward with its body. Cockatoos screech and call out from high, crows let each other know that a boat approaches, Nankeen Night herons move from one camouflaged limb to another, Sacred Kingfishers dive into the water to catch fish, it really is a wilderness and it is right at my back door. Pairs of ducks are dotted on the water and I feel glad that they are safe, no shooting of native birds on the Mighty Murray unlike most of the wetlands in Victoria where duck shooting is rampant.
The banks of the river erode as water levels rise and drop. With each flush of water that is being delivered the muddy clay sides slip into the river. Many bends of the river have no growth to prevent erosion, the grasses all gone and trees washed away. In places the blackberries are thick and flowering.Pattersons curse and thistles abound and I have not seen river mint (Mentha Australis) nor old man weed (Centipedes Cunninghamii )
We could do with a River Revegetation Army to reveg the banks and keep the riparian zone healthy and able to withstand the constant rise and fall of the waters. Now that’s an idea..must speak to Our PM. Haha!!
I can imagine what this river would have looked like a couple of centuries ago, reeds, grasses, rushes, herbs and creepers amongst the gumtrees and wattles holding tight on the banks as canoes glided down the river.
The Sneaky Snag with Carol and Marion onboard have gone ahead to find a sandbar. We are all sandbar hunters today.Smigglepot with Terrance at the helm cruises at around 4 km per hour with us.
One young man on the bank called out and said we were “living the dream”. He had a good looking camp on the go ready for the weekend revelling while the white faced herons flopped onto a tree.
In some places it feels so wild that a crocodile or a hippo might slide into the water. It’s often referred to as the Kakadu of the south. It is a beautiful world we live in when we are out here.
My zeer pots are working a treat, they are keeping fresh stores at a cool temp and allowing us to eat well. I love the simplicity of them. A terracotta pot inside a terracotta pot with sand in between the two and damp cloths on top of the lids to create evaporation. No electricity needed.
A swamp wallaby gently makes its way down the river bank and sips water from the edge. We had lunch at Cemetery Bend, saw Graham’s Hut and the old Gray,s mill site, then stopped for the day with 27 % battery at 1554 where we had a swim and threw out a fishing
line.
We have lost contact with Sneaky Snag. No ph, no internet, sos only. She is way ahead of us on a sandbank somewhere between 1552 and 1550. We are not sure where we are again as the NSW Maritime km markers are missing. I bet that Sneaky Snag is just around the next bend.
But time for Wanambe to kiss the sun and recharge for tomorrow’s cruising. Koondrook and Barham tomorrow . According to the schedule that we do not have, we are right on track.
The sails are working well, leaning into the wind and able to move easily as we motor sail into each bend. With the sails only we have reached 7 km per hr. But generally we have bedded into the 4 km per hr speed. A perfect style for Wanambe.
A lone bright pink inflatable flamingo was stuck in branches floating aimlessly while a butterfly caught a ride on a gum leaf and was floating downstream. It’s all go on the river. Mobs of White Winged Choughs gather for their family meetings.
So tonight we can’t quite agree where we are on the charts and the Murray Rivers character show her diamonds on the water. That’s all for now aside to say that every night from Torrumbarry to here a mopoke calls.
So until the next entry
I will Sign off.
Gathering spots by the river
21st Nov.2020
Down river to somewhere
Big day. We ended up in Koondrook at the designer wharf where speed boats seem to have no speed limit… we bounced around and the boats tangled into each other and the wharf as the waves came to shore.
It ended up that we were sitting at 1546 and sneaky snag was at 1544.we met in Koondrook like old friends who had not seen each other for ages.
I am a year older when I wake up. Staggering how those six decades plus a few years has swept me up. What a ride so far…
I saw my first Southern Aurora in Barham when we were building the PS Emmylou. What a sight, the emerald green swirling and the diamond pin points coming and going. I think my life is like that: a southern aurora of a life. I can’t sleep and it’s 1.42 am. The Willy wagtails are serenading like Australian Nightingales and the town noises are interesting to listen to. The dogs barking, the electric pumps and hum of the town, the reed warblers and ducks, all chorusing to the crescent moon going down.
The ropes on the boats rubbing on the cleats, the creaking of boats that are moored in port, the outboard motor on a tinny, the fast running sweep of a river as it swiftly gurgles past the wharf pylons, the galahs rumbling and fighting amongst each other, the late night river party goers laughing and singing a couple of bends away,the gentle breeze making things tinkle.
I reckon under the Koondrook Wharf is a big hole with a big fish in it.i put the rod in with some cheese on it and bang ,got a bite quite quickly. But alas it’s a story of the one that got away.
It’s overcast, not a star in the sky and we apparently have a 80% chance of 1 ml of rain. It could piss down, not.
I saw a few things that peeved me today, the jet skis going really, really really fast like they are on the auto barhn, the familiar blue disposable face mask moving at great knots downstream, the toilet paper where people shit and can’t be bothered to bury it.
There will always be ignorant people that don’t see why looking after our natural world is important, not for me, I am always compelled to keep what little of nature remains and add to it.
So until he next chapter of what is becoming my daily river journal
I will sign off.
Down river to somewhere
Big day. We ended up in Koondrook at the designer wharf where speed boats seem to have no speed limit… we bounced around and the boats tangled into each other and the wharf as the waves came to shore.
It ended up that we were sitting at 1546 and sneaky snag was at 1544.we met in Koondrook like old friends who had not seen each other for ages.
I am a year older when I wake up. Staggering how those six decades plus a few years has swept me up. What a ride so far…
I saw my first Southern Aurora in Barham when we were building the PS Emmylou. What a sight, the emerald green swirling and the diamond pin points coming and going. I think my life is like that: a southern aurora of a life. I can’t sleep and it’s 1.42 am. The Willy wagtails are serenading like Australian Nightingales and the town noises are interesting to listen to. The dogs barking, the electric pumps and hum of the town, the reed warblers and ducks, all chorusing to the crescent moon going down.
The ropes on the boats rubbing on the cleats, the creaking of boats that are moored in port, the outboard motor on a tinny, the fast running sweep of a river as it swiftly gurgles past the wharf pylons, the galahs rumbling and fighting amongst each other, the late night river party goers laughing and singing a couple of bends away,the gentle breeze making things tinkle.
I reckon under the Koondrook Wharf is a big hole with a big fish in it.i put the rod in with some cheese on it and bang ,got a bite quite quickly. But alas it’s a story of the one that got away.
It’s overcast, not a star in the sky and we apparently have a 80% chance of 1 ml of rain. It could piss down, not.
I saw a few things that peeved me today, the jet skis going really, really really fast like they are on the auto barhn, the familiar blue disposable face mask moving at great knots downstream, the toilet paper where people shit and can’t be bothered to bury it.
There will always be ignorant people that don’t see why looking after our natural world is important, not for me, I am always compelled to keep what little of nature remains and add to it.
So until he next chapter of what is becoming my daily river journal
I will sign off.
22nd Nov 2020
I am 63 years old today. Born in England in 1957, by ‘59 my family were living in Malta, we then moved to Kuwait, then emigrated to Australia on the £10 plan, lived in Broadmeadows immigration camp, then to Woodend, then to Papua New Guinea to Lae and Port Moresby. I came to Australia in 1972. I ran away and came to Bondi. I am now a Australian Citizen living in Torrumbarry on this mighty Murray River that I call home. My Aurora of a life is colourful and raw and I just love it. Today we left Koondrook where the wharf waters run deep and fast where the lights are bright and the people homely and earthy and we instantly sailed into a storm. We left 1524 and bedded in at 1518. Camp oven, drinks on the river banks, fishing rod cast, shrimp nets in. Mature White Breasted Sea Eagles circled the bend and over our river camp, honking as they do. A bunch of crows and magpies harassing them in the air. I think there is a nest nearby. We met lots of local who wanted to have a look at the Wanambe. She is like honey to a bee. We met farmers who have had to sell their herds of cows and move from share farming to being employed in piggeries. We met other river rats as we call them who spend their lives living on the river, we met fishers who were seeking the big one and we met young women and children who were enthralled with the concept of a different style of exploring the river. I saw grass seeds and reed seeds floating on the wind to be encapsulated by the river to be delivered to a new spot where they will grow. Spring is coming to an end and all the little things are growing and preparing for the hot summer. It’s raining sort of. Splats of rain fall on the flowing river,making sparkly circles in the water and the rain on the roof of Wanambe is akin to rain on a tin roof: soothing yet exciting. The movement of the river provides that most primal of senses, the gentle swaying of the wooden boat on water feels so embryonic and calming to the body and soul. So amidst all the noise and haste and the politics of water and nature, I feel satisfied today that I noticed all these marvels of nature. Another mopoke calls in the distance. Maybe it’s following us. So until the next chapter of this river journal I will sign off. 23rd Nov 2020
There is no ph access, no internet and no communication avenues available. I feel like I’m going down the Zambezi. Today 46 years ago I gave birth to my first child. I was hours into being 17 years old. It seems so long ago but I remember each minute.so happy birthday to my first born… We leave 1518 with light winds, nature untamed and noisy and we, the travellers, to this country leave only our footprints. The light streaming through the Eucalyptus trees after the rain smells fresh and clear. The sound of machinery dirties the air. Wood cutters are harvesting old live trees within metres of the banks and the big old fig tree mentioned in Maureen Wrights charts stands proudly saved for summer fig jam. . I just don’t get it. Surely any good landholder would realise that if you take the trees away from the banks then erosion will eat the land away. I have seen properties with only a single sad line of gums trees between their crop and the river. No revegetation works here just harvesting the old resources until they are gone. Oh it’s selective they say. Yes only the old mature aged trees with hollows that take over a hundred years to make. Why don’t we have a 1 km zone on either side of the river that is safe from man and there to keep our natural world healthy? Mans ignorance and greed is blatantly hidden by laws that allow us to clear fell right to the title edge or a few scabby metres from the boundary. My Imaginary Zambezi has just been chopped to smitherines. I understand that we need wood, but why cut down old growth forests, especially on the edges of waterways, when we can use agroforestry. I thank those farmers and landholders that care for country and use science to assist nature whilst still making a profit. I mentioned briefly that I had a baby crow (raven) with us on board. Well, what a little ball of love it is. Russel as all ravens are called in Australia shits about every 10 min. It has made me realise we don’t need a clock and made me wonder why the world isn’t white. He sits on the cabin floor as we traverse the waters and when we stop he like to get on land and practice flapping his wings. I ask him “what’s a pirate say Russel and he answers Argghh, or if I ask him what the first letter of his name is he says RAaah : he is very clever. The river from Barham /Koondrook to Murrabit is snaggy , gnarly and curly. We have kissed a few logs that are hidden and submerged under water. It’s moment like these when the bump sounds and the scraping of the log runs down the starboard side that you think “Fek I hope we glued this thing together well. So far so good but I will keep you posted. Ahead we hear Ol Boy on the Smigglepot shouting profanities at the logs he hits. Never a dull moment on the river in a wooden boat. I’m looking for emus but haven’t seen any yet! The pumps are getting bigger as we move downstream. White Winged Choughs flitter and glide from tree to tree in big family groups. We pass the Little Murray at 1514kms where it swirls like an old river meander for over 25 kms to 1488kms, to form Campbell’s Island and Forest Reserve and then it streams back into the Murray. I often forget that the Murray River has islands in it. The river is running fast with the Torrumbarry Weir running at 100.02 %. Volumes of water are running past to Somewhere, Piles of snags are gathering like beaver dams in the water, we dodge and weave while trying to keep to the mid Chanel of this Mighty waterway. The bed of the river is clay. It is uneven and varies suddenly and I can feel the change in the pull of the current as we slowly and carefully travel. We stop for the night outside what looks to me to be a happy riverbank. Rushes and reeds, small trees and old trees, bushes and herbs, we are on Campbell’s Island opposite Riversdale Station and watch the goings on from the opposite side of the river. I found everlasting daisy’s. The Torqeedo electric Solar powered motor goes smoothly, got a stick caught in the prop and stopped to extract. Sun Chasing has become a normal part of the regime so the solar panels can do their magic. “Wanambe” has two separate solar battery systems. One solely for the electric motors battery and another for the lights and charging. The two systems are able to intermingle via an inverter. I am very happy with the setup. As the journey progresses all the little nuances of Wanambe come to light. Once you have a boat there is always something to improve upon. Tomorrow we meet friends at Murrabit bridge and we guesstimate to be there at around middayish . So another day has passed on the river to somewhere. We are still not sure where we will get to in the big scheme of things. We need to head home on the 30 th. For now however I am in awe of Until the next entry. I will sign off |
24th Nov 2020
It’s official. I am a River Pirate. I was handed the skull and crossbones black and white flag today from my friend Bill. So I now have a Code, an Accord. Well more like guidelines really! So a pirate it is that I am! I think… All three boats arrived in Murrabit. We are moored and met friends just below the Bridge. at 1494 again we get confused with the lack of kilometre signs. Very sporadic and even though we are cruising at max 8 km per hr, before you know it a lot of bends are behind us. If I had a compass that would have helped, but I don’t. Swallows circle the boat as we ply the river opposite the biggest burl on a tree that I have ever seen.it was massive. There is so much happening in nature at any one given moment. The red gums are flowering. The straw necked and white Ibis in their dozens are circling on high, A very mature White Breasted Sea Eagle is delivering supplies to the home nest, I hear it’s mate calling. I have seen three pairs of sea eagles so far. It’s good for me to stay focused on nature, I just observe and marvel. Moving on the river at a slow pace allows the observations. The butterflies, the moon waxing, the clouds moving the wind blowing. Through Patterson’s Bend and The Gonn, past the Pental Island Junction the Little Murray or Marraboor River veers off into Victoria and forms Pental Island, past old steam pumps and over submarine cables. Wanambe is comfortable to be on. Easy to steer, easy to sleep on and easy to lounge around on. She is a clean energy machine, and has quiet movement and economical on the sunlight. Tonight we sleep on the banks of Pental Island near Burke’s Bridge. Until the next entry Harrrrrrr de harrrrrr. 27th Nov 2020
The river has a stream of pollen and eucalyptus flowers streaming down it for miles and miles, we glide in and out of the pollen stream as the cream coloured flowers eddy and flow. We aim for Kelly’s Clump, past funnel Bend, past Murray Downs, past the stinky dead sheep in the river, past the cattle on the banks, past the dead things… I need to mention some of the other birds that are living in the river corridor, the parrots and friar birds, the pelicans and the golf ball size baby ducks,the hawks and kites that circle above, the ravens and mudlarks, the honey eaters and the apostle birds, the egrets and the cranes. The nests with families of birds growing. At times the mosquitoes hum a high pitched soprano squeal that sings in the wind, frogs form a back tempo that adds base and other critters like crickets and dragonflies chorus along. It all creates the symphony of the Australian bush a most unique and a signature sound of our continent. We head for Beveridge Island past Swan Hill where there is no public wharf to tie up to. Sneaky snag took us into town where we were on tv eating ice cream. It was tricky climbing up the banks of the river to go shopping. What. Has happened to all the wharfs along the river? The winds howled and we battled our ways into them. Wooden boats are light and we were tossed like flotsam from side to side while the powerful gale like gusts hit our bow head on. We managed to get to Beveridge Island with a mere 3% left in the battery where we battened down the hatches and hid from the 44 deg heat. The Murray River has delighted us with the show of splendour and her beauty that rivals many great rivers of the world. Wild, curly, full of life and doing her best to maintain her life force against all odds. She clashes with mans progress and she brushes with mans greed, yet she maintains her momentum. Sheep and cattle on the river edge leave no room for nature to live, all the little plants get trodden on and pulled out. We met one electric boat and it was like meeting a sister. So quiet and clean that only the people talking to each other could be heard. All along the river, up and down there is a common matter. The Murray Darling Basin Plan and how it is not working for family farms and the environment. Each community has its own dilemma, not enough water for family farmers, too much water in a wetland, not enough water for the environment, corporate water holders selling the water at high profits, people that don’t even farm or own land buying and selling water, water not reaching the rivers because it is collected on dams this is flood plain harvesting. Couple this with high powered jet skis, wake boats and the water levels constantly rising and falling, our beautiful river faces many challenges. We all want our rivers managed well and equitably, when? The solar powered electric outboard served us well. I feel good having a clean energy vessel and encourage others to make the initial investment. So the river journey finishes for this time. Somewhere ended up being Beveridge Island. 240 kms in 14 days. What a wonderful fortnight. Thanks you to everyone who has read my journals and journeyed with me down river. It was a treat. Let’s do it again soon. So until my next journal entry I am over and out. Ps home now where all my chooks were killed by bloody foxes. |