The ending of the Murray is of course Murray Mouth, where it joins the sea near Goolwa, South Australia. And of course I was approaching from the south, having arbitrarily turned left (west) from Kilmore instead of continuing north, which would have taken me to Albury in which case I would have been humming “let’s start at the very beginning” instead of “the very ending”. But that would have been a lie because the very beginning of the Murray is many km upstream from Albury somewhere in the Great Dividing range … destination for another trip. So, fortuitously, I started at the correct end for this trip, the ending.
In my case the ending (for the beginning) was Narrung at the south east corner of Lake Alexandrina, which acts like a sump for the Murray before it flows around Hindmarsh Island via a number of channels and empties into the sea through Murray Mouth. When there’s enough water left after irrigation, of course.
To get started I had to cross the Narrung Ferry, drive anticlockwise around Lake Alexandrina to another ferry crossing at Wellington, continue around the lake to Goolwa, then cross a bridge to Hindmarsh Island.
Don’t forget you can click on any image to see a larger version.
When I left you last time I was camped at Narrung Ferry, waiting for the next morning to start my little adventure. That evening I had taken a stroll and found a jetty that the pelicans had left in a mess.
Day 9: Narrung to Hindmarsh Island
The next morning, first adventure morning, I found out how the pelicans leave a mess.
Just a few metres to the right of the jetty was the ferry starting its early morning crossings.
So I packed, started up the ute, and moseyed around to the ferry landing. The ferry was already on its way with a couple of cars.
I waited until those cars disembarked and the ferry operator waved me on board. I was first in queue so I had a good view of the crossing.
The drive north to Wellington was totally flat, featureless, and with nothing to look at other than flat featureless ex-wetlands.
At Wellington Ferry I was guided to the front pew of the second lane ...
… so I had another front row view of the crossing.
It was still early in the morning so I stopped for coffee and diesel before continuing west around the top of Lake Alexandrina, which proved to be as flat as featureless as the eastern coast.
Before long, however, I entered the Langhorne Creek wine region, source of that 1970 & 80s staple Jacob’s Creek.
By this time it was getting fairly bright so I put on my windswept and interesting sunnies, and drove on, until I reached the lake again, at Milang.
Actually the town was quite nice. Neat and tidy with a well-kept public park right on the lake.
But my brand new pocket mega zoom point-and-shoot camera stopped working. It was taking photos but the screen on the back was showing nothing. Black. Aaargh! Spent a long time fiddling (as one does) but couldn’t figure it out. I even looked up the address for manufacturer warranty claims. I knew it had to be a simple setting, but of course I couldn’t see those either because the screen was black.
So I got back in the ute, in a grump, and set off again, this time to Goolwa, where I scouted around and found a very nice clean town with many restored 19th century buildings and spacious green parks. At this stage I was taking photos with the phone, because of that broken camera.
Found a parking spot, found a cafe, and fed my frustration with another coffee and a steak pie. And changed glasses again so I could read inside.
Frustration fed, I wandered down to the waterfront where I found the bridge to Hindmarsh Island
At about this point (because I still had the camera in my pocket and because my ego wouldn’t let me suffer defeat from a cheap camera) I turned on the point-and-shoot. Lo and behold! Magic! All colour and bright goodness back on the screen! Ah ha! I thought. What changed? My glasses. I had changed back to my clear glasses from the sunglasses. (My sunglasses are polarised, so of course they just had to be polarised at 90º to the camera screen, rendering it black through the glasses but of course no change to the camera, at all. I hate this word, but Doh!). So because I had tried changing nearly every setting to restore the always-there-but-not-through-my-sunnies screen image, I had to reset the whole camera and set it up again.
So with my camera fixed I was able to capture some nice shots at Goolwa port …
… a restored cottage (one of many, all in very nice condition) …
… and the airy main street with more restored buildings …
It seems to be a sleepy relaxed town (at least on weekdays - I suspect it could go nuts on weekends and holidays). A similar feel to Maroochydore around 1980.
I went for a wander to locate a supermarket (because supermarket carparks can be tricky to navigate with a caravan) and on the way back espied a barber shop.
Hmmm, I thought, the hair needs a bit of a trim. So I stuck my head in the door to ask if they could fit me in.
- Of course, said the young lady with the white butchers apron adorned with large hair clips across the top, ink down both arms with a tiny curly tat over one eyebrow.
- Sit here, she said
- What will it be? A trim? Too easy.
And with that she whipped out her massive electric shears and within a couple of minutes had shorn my head, leaving a sparseness behind, max length 2cm. Not quite what I was expecting, having patronised hair salons (as against hair saloons) for the last 45 years. No preamble, no “get yourself comfortable”. No scissors snip snip snipping. No mini-shave and brush around the neck. No blow dryer through the hair to get rid of stray clippings.
Hardly even time for a chat while she was mowing my head. But she did ask how I liked Goolwa.
- Noice, said I
- Yeah, said she, houses are so cheap here. And there’s heaps to do. Mouth. Barrages. Not boring like Bendigo. I’m from Bendigo. Where you from? Kilmore? Kilmore’s boring too. All finished! Too easy.
And with that she finished. My hair. And so I thought “Be thankful”. And I paid the very nice demon barber from Bendigo, and I thanked her profusely, and I went on my way. With a head that hadn’t had access to so much fresh air since it was very small and innocent.
I retrieved the ute & van, bought some groceries, filled my old-man prescriptions (except one which went on back-order to be picked up next day), and headed off over the Hindmarsh Island Bridge - yes THAT one - to Murray Mouth (which I had to presume was the Mouth mentioned by my favourite Demon Barber).
More information here
Or here (Wikipedia)
And then I did the world tour of Hindmarsh Island before finding the caravan park (somewhat forgettable, and like so many of its kind mainly cabins these days rather than caravan sites).
Day 10 - Hindmarsh Island to Purnong Ferry
I woke early, packed, and headed off, keen to continue my adventure. But of course I had to pick up my waitlisted drugs at 10am so to waste some time I sat down for a coffee and omelette (very very rare for me to eat breakfast, before noon).
And that filled in an hour, and filled an otherwise vacant spot, so I picked up the drugs with minimum of shifty glances, and headed north again, retracing 50km of the previous day’s travel. With the double crossing of the Hindmarsh Island Bridge (yes, THAT one) and the diesel detour to Mount Gambier this was the only wasted driving on the trip to-date.
After the wine district the drive was flat and featureless.
Then it became featureless and flat.
Until finally there was a gentle rise leading to the western side of the Tailem Bend Ferry.
I was first in queue. The ferry was being maintained (these are 24x7 gigs so maintenance is carried out in-service) with only one lane available on the ferry.
Again I got a prime view crossing the river.
I stopped at the top of the hill on the eastern bank and walked back to a park at the river’s edge to get a couple more photos of the ferry.
The bloke riding this shiny Harley waiting for the ferry was heading off to open the Bowling Club.
At the top of the lane heading up from the ferry was a small park with a concrete rhinoceros along with some dubious sign writing. No real explanation other than that some radio personality had no further use for the thing, so donated it to the town.
Apparently elsewhere in Tailem Bend there are green concrete sheep and other concrete animals for your viewing pleasure.
Another featureless drive north to Murray Bridge, which in fact should be plural because it has two working road bridges plus a working rail bridge. So Murray Bridges.
This is the “new” Murray Bridge bridge. A road bridge.
I drove west over the new bridge, into town, stopped at a riverside park for the essentials, then drove east out of town and over the old bridge. This is the “old” road-rail Murray Bridge bridge, which no longer carries rail traffic but remains open to road traffic.
And this is the not-so-new Murray Bridge rail bridge that took the rail component of traffic off the old Murray Bridge road-rail bridge.
Off into the wilderness once more.
Scrub turning to intermittent farmland further north …
… before the road wound down off the plateau towards Mannum, which is built up and over the hill on the other (west) side of the river.
There is a very pleasant grassy park on the river bank, so I was able to take photos of both ferries (yes two). This is the upstream ferry.
And this is the downstream ferry, right beside it.
I turned around and there in front of me was evidence that toddlers ARE right
I drove down onto the (upstream) ferry and travelled across the Murray, again.
Mannum turned out to be an interesting little town, but I wasn’t too sure whether they were targeting the big spenders
I did ask some of the locals but got quite wooden responses
I suspect the town could just have been stuck in some time warp
Anyway, after a world tour of Mannum (I got lost because I couldn’t read road signs written in South Strine) I found the exit road heading east towards Purnong. Along the way the road ran alongside some river wetlands …
… before again climbing up to the dry plateau …
That green stripe is the river valley
Then more flat dry farmland ...
... and straight roads ...
… before arriving at Purnong Ferry
And I had a chat with the operator (didn’t catch his name) who extolled the stress-free virtues of the job (“pick up a car and take it to the other side” - who am I to argue?), and the kites nesting in the eucalypts next to the ferry dock, and the little birds (robins? swallows?) nesting under the ferry ramp (attached to the ferry!) and how it had taken 3 years of hinting (“got a job for me this week?”) before he got his dream job.
Day 11 - Purnong Ferry to Punyelroo (Swan Reach)
And so the next morning I packed up again and set off early, over the Purnong Ferry.
And before driving off the ferry I had a chat with (a different) operator, Sid, who had lived on the river all his life and had spent his holidays for many years floating down segments of the river in a tinny.
I drove a few clicks upstream (on the east side of the river) and spotted some derelict stone buildings typical of the region that were right next to the road, so I was able to snap them without venturing on to private land.
This was not far from Forster Lookout ...
...with great views downstream ...
... west across the river ...
... and upstream towards the next ferry at Walker Flat
By which time my height thing started kicking in so I hastened to the ute and beat a retreat downhill to the ferry.
Which was not approaching me, but crossing west to collect some cars
Eventually I made it across, grabbed a coffee at the little general store, and enjoyed that in the very pleasant riverbank park.
And along came (gasp ... surprise!) a houseboat.
I drove north along the west bank, past some wetlands …
Up a short steep road to a clifftop lookout ...
... where I could see downstream (south) ...
... and upstream (north)
I took a short detour around the river bend to more wetlands at Wongulla
And another houseboat came along.
Then I drove up to the plateau on the west side of the river and looked back over Wongulla
And headed north again along some dirt roads ...
... to a caravan park at Punyelroo, just short of my next crossing at Swan Reach. At local came out to greet me at the caravan park.
Day 12 Punyelroo (Swan Reach) to Cadell
Up again with the dinosaurs, and freshly showered and batteries charged (literally), I headed off to Swan Reach just a few km upstream.
I was thinking about stopping here, but the camping area was crowded and I had arrived before 9am, so I dismounted for a look-see and some photos.
While I was there a local came up and in a quiet furtive way asked if I wanted … some eggs. Three bucks. At first I demurred, but I changed my mind and bought them. Good decision - they have added a dimension to my nightly hash.
So then it was back to the ute and onto the Swan Reach ferry ramp.
Once again a front row seat
And once again I found a lookout with panoramic views of the river
... downstream
... and upstream
I continued up the straight sealed roads on the east bank
And again found a lookout across the river from Blanchetown (on the west bank)
I crossed the new bridge to Blanchetown then walked back across the old bridge to take some photos (the new bridge is on the left, with traffic)
The old bridge couldn’t carry B-Double heavy trucks so was replaced
Looking downstream from the old bridge you can see a weir …
… and the first lock of ten (travelling from the south)
From the little I could see Blanchetown consists mainly of small holiday shacks, some of them very new. I think this was the main drag (correct me if I’m wrong)
At the little general store / post office I bought a coffee, and was transported back to the 70s by the incense they were burning in the “private residence” out back. Very cruisey. Far out.
I kept dodging these critters, so thought they deserved a mention. Around 20 cm long. Most of them cylindrical and moving; some of them two-dimensional and not moving.
Some more flat dirt roads
and vineyards
then I reached Morgan
Morgan has a long history as a rail / river junction
And has a spacious green riverside park
Right next to the ferry
So off I went again. I had to get my timing right, this time, to get the front row seat.
That worked
And the bearded one ushered me off a couple of minutes later
It was a pretty unremarkable drive to my next stop at Cadell, which has a very nice riverside camp ($10) with a grassy expanse near the river and barriers to keep most vans and campers away from the river frontage
Some more of those houseboats appeared, each one squeaking a warning to the ferry
Across the river were some impressive cliffs
And an even more impressive tree still growing in the rockfall it had followed down
And this one clinging half way up the cliff
After a while the camp area start to fill up
And while it became chattery noisy it was not overwhelming and even provided some entertainment
And this gent even provided some scale against the cliffs
At about this point I started taking photos of interesting patterns - grass, reeds, and particularly bark. Such as these
Day 13 Cadell to Bonney Lake (Kingston on Murray)
The next morning I was up bright and early to get a nice shot of those cliffs
Then on to the ferry (no front seat this time!)
I crossed the river northwards, then stopped and walked back to take a snap looking south. The camp area was 100 metres to the right on the south bank
Such as this one
Another uneventful drive across the arid tableland (on the left), except where it was irrigated with water from the river (on the right)
And so I arrived at Waikere Ferry, looking south (downstream on the right)
Drove on …
… and enjoyed the front seat view all the way across (it was early, so there wasn’t much competition for the front)
Once off, I drove around to the riverside park on the right
Then watched another load or three come southwards across the ferry
I took a few minutes in Waikere to top up the groceries, diesel, and caffeine, then drove off again, following the river upstream (east).
There was a great cliff-top walking path maintained by Lions. It stretched for a few km but I stayed in a lookout area - the height and cliffs and my nerves didn’t mix well. But it was very scenic looking east upstream
… across the river …
… where there were several trees like this, with exposed roots …
… and downstream (west)
But most of the surrounding land was farmland or arid so I pressed on to the Kingston on Murray bridge
Over that bridge and a few km further on turned left (north) toward Lake Bonney, where there was a very generous free camp on the lake shore. I found a spot some distance away from others and about 5 metres from the water.
Then had to move further along the sandy track because some numpty had dumped a pile of dead carp no more than 10 metres from the water - 5 metres from my van.
Finally I was able to relax.
Until …
Bzhzhzhzhzhzhzhzhaaaaaoooooww!
BZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHZHAAAAAAOOOOOOOW!!
Fffzzzzzzeeeeeeeeeeeeaaah!
REEEEEAAAAAARRRRRRR!
That lasted all afternoon, so I consoled myself with some rugby. 260 minutes of it.
Results:
1 Fiji Drua (club) beat Queensland Country to win the Australian National Rugby Championship
2 NZ All Blacks beat AU Wallabies in Yokohama to win the Bledisloe cup test series 3-0 and to rub it in
3 Auckland beat Canterbury in NZ domestic premiership, but only after the game was extended by 20 minutes in a nail biter.
The rugby lasted until 10-ish, and then I became aware of the constant swish swish swish of the waves on the lake shore. Swish swish. I drifted off, but woke frequently as a gusty wind rocked the van (I seldom use the stabilising legs). So in my half-awake and half asleep state my brain was even less functional than normal, and I half dozed through the swish swish of water, and the rock rock of the van, and of course my brain went immediately to left field dreams of the Titanic and Vasa and Mary Rose. Don’t ask me why - my brain does unusual contortions at the best of times, let alone half asleep in a rocking caravan next to a noisy lake!
So it was a rather sleepless night and I vowed to rise early on Sunday to get away before the boats started again.
Day 14 - Lake Bonney to Lyrup
So I did. I woke about 6:30 to the sound of voices passing the van and fading into the distance. So much for beating the locals with an early start!
I yawned, scratched my stubble, and made a cuppa. Freshened up, and poked my nose out the door. To be greeted by the scene of anglers lining the lake shore, hard at work.
I wandered down to the nearest angler, who turned out to have a northern European accent. He was very busy, having landed his first carp for the day. He gave me a funny look, and answered my questions haltingly as he tended his two rods.
Yes there are fish in the lake.
Only carp. Just carp. Nothing else.
Yes I catch a few. But I don’t use them.
This is a club competition.
I am in a hurry.
Last year I caught 55 kilos and came seventh.
So I said thank you, promised to leave him alone to get on with his busyness, packed up, and left via the least-soft sandy track I could find.
I drove to Berri through some very nicely kept vineyard areas
Stopped at a riverside park in Berri, from which I could see the Berri bridge.
I had been intending to stop at Berri, but I went down to the camp and it was crowded so I left, drove over that bridge, and stopped at the Lyrup camp instead.
Power and basic but clean toilet for $5 a night (three night limit) … just my cup of coffee.
There were three other vans at the park, all lined up as in the photo. Very quiet during the day. Even quieter overnight.
A bunch of these OCD swamp hens kept the grass areas under control
And just along the way was the ferry (the only ferry in SA that I hadn’t crossed).
As the light faded the ferry lights switched on
Then the sky and river changed colour
Then the sky went orange and blood red
So that was a productive evening.
Along the way I collected more bark textures.
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