The night remained clear throughout. In those stirring moments throughout the night, you could look up to see the sky thick with stars. In the morning the outsides of our sleeping bags were quite wet. As was all of our gear. We waited for a while, hoping the sun would reach us and help to dry things out. We watched as the riverbanks upstream and downstream became bathed in a warm golden glow. We were not so lucky, the hill opposite was completely blocking the sun. We decided to get moving.
It was not long before we were confronted with the signs of human habitation. A gate, bridges with signs, water pipes going into the river, phone lines above us and buildings. The water changed again. Becoming darker still. We started to use our water filter at this point.
The river continued its path towards the sea. Meandering through a mix of open river flats used as farmlands and narrow valleys. There were long stretches where the river was wide and shallow, barely deep enough to cover the blade of a paddle. The narrows were usually accompanied with rapid changes in elevation and therefore rapids.
There was nothing overly challenging with the rapids at the water levels we were paddling. While there was a lot room for error, you still had to be actively working and picking your lines. The earlier experience with the tree over the river had given us a warning and we were constantly looking ahead for possible hazards. With the increase in human population we now had other risks to be mindful of, bridges particularly.
With most bridges it was possible to travel under them. Doing so you had to be mindful of the large bolts hanging down. Some were protruding a good 20-30cm. The lower bridges which required a portage were always private bridges. I wonder how often they have a log jam? In some places we passed the remnants of old bridges and crossings. There was no sign of where they might have met the shore any more, as the banks were covered in thick vegetation and parts had eroded.
Our plan had been to paddle for 18km and then find a spot to make camp. Here we were affected by civilisation. For the most part, this section of the river seems to be almost forgotten. Apart from the occasional clearing to a house Much of the river bank was choked with bamboo, lantana, watermelons or other seemingly invasive plants.
Open areas of the bank were mostly used as watering holes for cattle. Cattle were consistently seen standing in the water and manure was everywhere on the banks. Being the Easter long weekend many open areas had people set up with campervans. Our plan was thrown out the window. We decided to paddle on to a site where we had launched the rafts prior and a space to camp was certain. This meant a long day.
We knew exactly where we were headed, just not how far or long it would take. The sun was getting low on the horizon and we were still paddling. It was starting to get cold and we had barely drank water most of the day. Willa and I began to be grumpy with each other, as I urged to paddle on. I approached a shallow section, tired I decided to just try and push through it. I hit the bottom and was stuck. I wiggled and pushed with my paddle before getting free with a strange grinding sound.
We kept paddling for another 20 mins. I pulled over to the bank to empty the water out of my raft. You get pretty wet in a an open boat especially going through swift, rough water. Emptying the raft was a constant task. It was feeling pretty full this time. I took out my pack and saw there was a hole in the floor. I had, essentially, been sitting in a shallow bath. It was getting late. To repair the floor I would need to dry it first.
I decided to just push on. Sitting in a pool of water. We pulled into our camp with about 30 mins of light left. We had covered 32 km on the river. It had been along day and we were both tired. After getting our camp set up and starting dinner, Willa called her mum on the phone. We all chatted for awhile and then Willa and I went to bed.
The next day was only going to be short. We pottered around for a good chunk of the morning. I taped up the hole in the raft and we got all our gear dry. The paddle was really short to the next stop. Really short. Paddling under the major bridge of W*** Way, we climbed up the bank and dumped our gear at the free campsite at T***. We walked up to the general store and brought Ice-creams and a pack of Uno.
We sat a picnic table playing endless games of Uno and people watching. It was an interesting space. A family with young boys had set up camp and it became obvious that they were 'holidaying' here. Rainee and her parents drove out to catch up with us and bring some supplies to see us through. We sat a talked excitedly about our adventures until they returned home. Willa and I played on. I was consciously trying to squeeze in as much time with Willa as I could before the end of our journey.
As the day progressed the park filled with vehicles and their caravans and campers. It was a huge spread of the differing sections of society. It was interesting to observe these people all sitting around, seemingly oblivious to the river below them. One group near us played their music loudly while their car continued to run. The running lights of their van lit up the park in an orange glow. Willa and I were in bed early.
We rose early, packed and left before anyone else had stirred. The sky was glowing as the sun began to rise. The fabled T** Roarer came and went with a barely a challenge. After the previous K's on the river it was not terribly exceptional. The riverbanks opened up and the cattle increased. The closer we got to B*** the darker the river grew. Just outside of town the water had taken on a smell that was quite unappealing. When we reached our stop for the day Willa was ready to socialise.
The rafts were collapsed quite quickly and we set of into the streets. Willa and I parted ways as we went to different friends houses. to shower and then into town. Sitting in a cafe I glimpsed her as she walked past with friends. Dressed in town clothes and make-up she appeared very different. That night we again caught up with Rainee and her parents for dinner at the pub. Willa made the observation that the meal was the first in 9 days that she hadn't eaten with a spoon. After dinner Rainee drove us back down to the river.
We were changing watercraft here. Rainee helped Willa and I to carry the canoe and our gear down to the river's edge and said goodbye. We set up camp and went to sleep. To catch the outgoing tide we would need to get up early.
We were up and on the water well before first light and used our headtorches to see. The river was quite alive. Bats circled and flew between us, feeding on the bugs gathering around our lights. Owls were on the move too. Passing under L*** bridge we the tail lights of cars in the darkness. It was all feeling quite surreal. When the sky started to light in glorious hues, we still were really only seeing silhouettes along the river.
Up ahead we could see cattle moving. As we got closer we could see they were crossing. Willa and I slowed to allow them to cross. It was fairly deep in the middle and we sat watched as cows had to swim this bit, their heads poking out like a crocodiles. A huge congregation of egrets launched from the bank ahead and circled. Their white feathers against the coloured sky was a beautiful scene.
There had been some houses built on the river edge since leaving B***, but it was primarily cattle grazing country. The giant concrete bridge that carries the Pacific Highway over the river was marker of change. Once under it you see houses. In a particular section houses were shoulder to shoulder with wharves and boat sheds in various states of repair. They started to spread out after this burst.
Beside the old bridge of the old Pacific Hwy were the remnants of the ferry crossing. Passing the Milk processing plant Willa asked questions about what happened in there and I did my best to explain. We both laughed at the workers who appeared to be hiding behind trees on the river bank and smoking a cigarette. There were some mangroves on the banks too now.
Here we were passed by our first boat, a fisherman heading upstream. From this point their numbers would slowly increase.
We paddled to the shore and found a randomly placed picnic table. It was on a bank opposite a caravan park. The land behind us was flat, clear and fenced. A new house was being built 500m away. The table was sheltered by a giant fig tree, beside this was a dozen or so crab traps and a large stainless steel drum used to cook the catch. We ate our breakfast and got bank on the water. The paddling had been very calm and at times almost meditative. That was about to change.
We saw a couple of kayakers launching several hundred metres ahead. There was an island ahead they went right and we went left. There are many old oyster leases along the river. The buildings look old and abandoned. We could hear the sound of cars travelling the road beside the river. Ahead of us we could see M***. Looking down the river we could notice the river's surface starting to change. There was a small swell starting to pulse in towards us. It was the tide pushing in.
Shortly after the tide changed the wind came up strong. It was hard to gauge its direction, but whatever it was it was against us. We criss-crossed the river trying to find some shelter from it. The wind was creating a fair amount of chop, about knee high. We paddled on. Passing M*** we paddled close to the bank on the ocean side. Sand dunes dropped steeply into the water. The wind was getting stronger. We were working very hard to keep moving forward. We could see our destination up ahead, but I was thinking we might have needed to bunker down on the bank and wait for the wind to pass.
We reached some shallow sand banks and decided get out and push/drag the canoe along. This sped us up immensely. Some fishermen working the shallows let us know the wind was going to get stronger. We pushed on. It was almost poetic in a way. We had dragged our boats at the start of the river and here we were at the end, dragging again.
Eventually there was a rock break-wall with deep water to its side. We had to paddle now, but it felt easier. The last 500m of paddling required us to maneuver around anchored fishing boats. Rainee was ringing on the phone to check on us. I was trying to communicate but still had to paddle as the wind and current were pushing us around. We got to to the sand spit beside the mouth and dragged the canoe onto the shore. It was very busy here. There were cars on the beach, boats moored and families and groups of friends fishing from the shore. Willa and walked across the sand and jumped into the water where the river meets the sea. We hugged and high fived each other.
Returning to the canoe, on the boardwalk across the river we could see Rainee waving. She couldn't get across. At the canoe we took a couple of photos. We sat and celebrated with a couple of cans of Cider we had carried with us the entire journey for this moment.
We sat for a short while and then boarded the canoe to paddle with the currentover to the town of U***. The water was just high enough for us to cross a break in the rockwall. At the beach we hugged Rainee and Paul. Paul had been there at the start and had came to watch us finish. We loaded all the gear into the car and went home.
It had taken us 10 days to get here. We had travelled downstream on the river for 110km. Far longer than the official recorded length of the river. I have shaped many thoughts, feelings and questions about the river during and since this journey. They warrant writing down and will be shared at a later date.
Willa returned to work that week and I pottered around the house, feeling a little lost before I too had to return to work.
Comments