The Murray & Its Tributaries

The Murray & Its Tributaries

We thought it may be interesting given the current debate throughout the Eastern States about water shortages and river degradations to have a look at the country's mightiest river and a number of its tributaries before finally beginning our assault on the East coast. This is all new country for us both and should be interesting to see how those living alongside these river courses are faring.

Riverland towns on the mighty Murray River provide a Mecca to water ski enthusiasts who flock to towns such as Morgan, Berri and Renmark with their small snappy craft and proceed to terrorise the river with all manner of water skiing pursuits. House boating also appears as a popular past time with 6 berth boats being able to be hired for about $900/week or, if you're really keen, purchased for about $60-$80 000. One can cruise down as far as the seaward boundary of Goolwa up to Wentworth/Mildura. After that navigation is dependent upon the time of year and amount of water coming down. Majority of houseboats seem to be powered by twin outboard motors (30-50hp) - although some hire ones actually have a diesel powered rear mounted paddle wheel. We bicycled around Renmark stopping at the Renmark Community Club for a $6 lunch of pork spare ribs a beaut club right on the riverbank across the road from the Renmark Community (owned) Hotel.

It was interesting to note that the caravan park in which we stayed in Renmark had signs everywhere warning against drinking river water and instead use the rain water stored in tanks behind every ablution block, but sparingly. As we had not filled up the camper's water tank since Margaret River, I am a little concerned about when we will be able to fill it up again with good potable water. I recall Nugget and Jenny both talking most disparagingly about the quality of their 'treated' town water which came from the Murray.

Now another piece of trivia gleaned from the captain of a tourist paddle steamer is that commercial boats plying the Murray's waters must display a flag indicating where the boat normally operates from either North or South of Wentworth - yes the Top Enders and the Bottom Enders have their own flags!

If one wants to pursue some fishing on the Murray, you must select a quiet stretch of the river away from such towns perhaps in one of the numerous small national parks along its banks and there maybe be rewarded by a giant Murray Cod or more likely Yellow Belly or bloody Carp. Late mail - been advised that the Murray Cod season is now (October) closed.

The orange, mandarin, lemon and grapefruit trees throughout the Riverland are already hung heavy with fruit waiting to be picked and the grape vines are already quite lush with foliage (remember in Margaret River - just 4 weeks ago they were only just beginning to bud). See what a warm climate and an abundance of irrigation water can throw up.

The river looks deceptively in good condition in and around the towns where its levels are manually maintained through locks and weirs. However, elsewhere in SA its levels are low and it is surrounded by wasted grey river flats full of dead river gums. This is a result of the increased salination of the surrounding land due to poor river flows which in turn is due largely to the excessive irrigation demands made of the river upstream in Victoria and NSW.

We had stayed in Renmark over the long weekend primarily to attend to some urgent banking, dispatching a certified parcel of documents to our accountant in order that our tax returns could be filed as well as to send another pile of reference materials on WA back to Darwin. See - even these tedious mundane housekeeping chores have to be attended to while leading this nomadic life.

With jobs done, it was off to Mildura for re-provisioning (no Coles in Renmark) and re-fuelling (no compliant Shell servo in Renmark) for our next adventure which is to follow the Darling River up north. Whilst in Mildura we had to pay our respects to the Workingman's Club with its long (298 ft) bar. This Club (circa 1895) had to wait nearly 6 months for its first shipment of liquor because the paddle steamer carrying it was unable to deliver because the Murray had stopped flowing. A poem commemorating he crisis goes as follows:

The Relief of Mildura

The doctors had run out of whisky, and our stock of liquor was spent, Save one poor half dozen of lager, that belonged in the Rechabite tent, And the sky was brass above, and the land was fevered with drought, As we wandered with blistered gullets, and tongues that were hanging out.

And ever the Murray to tempt us, at the edge of the sun-cracked flat, But no, we were men of Mildura - we hadn't come down to that. But daily the torture lasted, and daily the horror grew, Of the thought that we dare not utter - the thing that all of us knew. Someone must try the water, must yield to the fatal law, So we shared in that devil's gamble - and mine was the shortest straw, One moment of human weakness, then I stepped to the river's brink, It was flowing before me, water, and I was condemned to drink.

And then, Oh, was it an angel or that daft lass , Jessie Brown, Cried "dinna ye sniff the reek o' the pipes of Echuca town?" And louder and ever louder, and near and nearer the while, We heard the beat of her paddles, the rescuing steamboat Nile. With her bar doors breathing a blessing, on her mission of mercy she came.

And the sunlight blazed on the bottles, in a halo of living flame, and "Courage" the skipper shouted, as he moored to the blighted scrub, "There's forty tons of liquor aboard, consigned to the local club." Then madly rushed through our being, the warm re current life, We didn't wait for a corkscrew, we hankered off the heads with a knife, And the brass band burst into music, the temperance banners waved, And we saw three stars in the evening sky, and we knew Mildura was saved.

Like that?

Victualling in Mildura had one serious hiccup. Was told that my preferred beer CUB Midstrength was not all that popular in Victoria and that they only sold it in stubbies . When they did get offered cans to sell they were only ever packaged in slabs of 24 ie I would not be able to purchase my normal 30 Block of cans. Now stubbies don't travel well in a fridge over rough roads. I have been able to buy Blocks in every State but was now denied my preferred beverage in its State of manufacture! I naturally through a mild tantrum and visited 3 other liquor outlets to confirm this heresy. Naturally, I turned my back on my State of birth and crossed the border into the 'Midstrength friendly' State of NSW.

We headed out with full tanks (bought with our 8cent/litre discount voucher) and took the road up to the Lake Mungo National Park some 110 km away on a pretty good gravel road. Lake Mungo is the site of important archaeological evidence of Aboriginal occupation of the land back 40 000 years ago. It is a World Heritage listed site and proclaimed a NP in 1979. Mungo had been worked as a sheep property since the late 1860s. Lake Mungo incorporates the spectacular moonscape or lunette 'Walls of China' on its eastern shore. We took the 60 km self drive tour of the area the following day and took plenty of snaps. Be warned the flies were something else!!

Visiting national parks in NSW appears to cost $7/vehicle and $3 each/camping fee. We may have to consider buying an annual pass as we did for WA.

We then sauntered further north through open grazing land to the Menindee Lakes (pop 400) via the little town of Pooncarie where we caught our first glimpse f the once mighty Darling River. Geez, the river was at the bottom of 10 m grey banks and what water there was was covered in slimy algae growth. Ugh. However, at Pooncarie we were advised that the river should be in better shape further upstream. This proved correct as we camped along side the Darling in the Kinchega National Park (same fee structure as mentioned above) which surrounds the Menindee Lakes...This NP was formed by the non renewal f the pastoral lease over Kinchega/Menindee Station which had been run for over 100 years up until the 1960s by one family together with the now extinct ES&A Bank. There were some wonderful photographs of barges loaded with wool bales in the old homestead ruins. This all brought back memories of that Ruth Park romantic historical novel titled All The Rivers Run which the ABC subsequently made into a series back in the (?)1980s.

It was great to be camped out bush again under these magnificent towering river red gums and to celebrate we had a great meal of pork spare ribs. Generator was also fired up to charge up a few things. I would have loved to have stayed here but the only place to launch the boat was in town some 15kms up stream away from our camp during our exploration of this NP we came across Weir 32 which is the final control on the river as it flows out of the Lakes. The water below the weir was easily 2m lower and the turbulence associated with the bar attracted a large number of Carp all swimming about with their large orange mouths gaping open just above the water ready to scoop up a feed. We optimistically purchased two NSW Fishing Licences ($12/month each) and sought out local fishing info from a likely soul in the pub.

The Menindee Lakes (20 overflow lakes) form an impressive water storage system on the Darling River and not only provides water to Broken Hill, a breeding habitat for 170 varieties of birds, good fishing but also provides water for a flourishing irrigated horticultural industry in citrus, wine & table grapes and vegetables.

On leaving Menindee we took the dirt road up to Wilcannia. This was the town which introduced Maria and I to racism at its worst. Back in 1969 on our honeymoon we stopped at the pub in this town for a casual drink. Unwittingly, we entered the 'wrong' bar which was occupied exclusively by local Aboriginals who had to be served through a wire mesh grill. We were loudly advised that whites could not be served in that bar and that if we wanted a drink we should go around the back to the 'Sportsman's Bar' - I'll never forget it - especially as Maria wanted to argue the point with the publican.

Wilcannia (pop 700) today presents as a scruffy town with most of the shops on the main street boarded up, barricaded or just burnt out. However, the town has several imposing examples of colonial architecture that have amazingly survived the ravages of the local vandals. I decided that we should top up the fuel tank and get some generator fuel. The Shell service station on main street was selling fuel at an exorbitant price so we decided to check out the opposition some two streets back. Here was a very grimy BP outlet run by the town's grumpy mechanic. However the fuel was 10cents/litre cheaper. I asked him about the condition of the road to Bourke and he grudgingly advised that it was a bit rough and that given 10 points of rain it became an impassable quagmire. He also opinionated (Hanrahan-like) that rain was expected later in the day. I then foolishly asked about camping in the Darling- Paroo National Park - he quickly snapped back that he didn't have a clue as he didn't 'go in for campin'!

Despite the BP Grump, we had a great camp in the just Gazetted Wilga camp site of the Darling-Paroo NP which was only 50 kms north of Wilcannia on a giant bend in the Darling River. The Wilga camp site had brand new pit toilets and a free gas Bar B Cue. We dined regally on Venison Sausages which we had bought in Margaret River. Unfortunately, the only likely looking boat launching site had been chained off. Despite a slight sprinkle of rain, the weather held that night. However, the morning western sky was leaden and rather than risk being bogged on this road I decided we should make a run to Bourke some 340kms north.

The road conditions varied markedly from bad corrugations, red sand, heavily rutted black soil, two wheel tracks to 15m wide gravel highway. All along the flat grazing land was alive with yellow and white wildflowers. The only undulation in the land was occasioned by the hundreds of single lane cattle grids which are all built up about 1m above the surrounding road. We passed herds of cattle and sheep and even witnessed some goats being mustered in some yards. We stopped at the historic Tilpa Pub where, for a $2 donation to the Royal Flying Doctor Service, you can scrawl your name on a spare patch of wall - thousands of people have previously left their mark there.

Many of the stations along the Darling have gone to a great deal of effort in designing/sculpturing their roadside mail boxes with representations of paddle steamers, ploughs, horsemen, branding irons etc - these are welcome distractions on an otherwise largely featureless landscape. The ominous dark clouds to the west dictated that we should keep moving and off we scurried, arriving in Bourke (pop 3500) about mid afternoon.

We booked into the rather flash Kidman Camp caravan park for the week at a good rate of $19/night and decided, in anticipation of doing some boating, to jack the camper off the ute. On opening up the camper we were dismayed to find everything covered in dust.....a window had sprung open during the day and the road's bull dust had been sucked in; in shovel fulls!

After cleaning up, we showered in the most expansive and luxurious ablution facilities we have encountered (the first I have come across which enables one to keep one's clothes dry while showering), and caught the Bourke Bowling Club's courtesy bus into the Club for a good relax. This Club, in the tradition of most in NSW clubs, had 2 greens, cheap drinks ($19 for Wolf Blass Yellow Label) pokies, free bar nibbles, god meat and vegetable raffles, TAB, and cheap meals from a Chinese restaurant upstairs. We took the opportunity of ringing Harry and confirmed some details of our impending meet-up later in the month.

The Bourke 'Bowlo' (2 greens plus approx 20 new pokies)

Bourke is the junction of many rivers, the Warrego joins the Darling just south of the town, while the Culgoa, Bokhara, Macintyre, Gwydir, Namoi, Castlereagh, Macquarie & Brogan all flow into the Barwon which in turn flows into the Darling at Bourke. Bourke therefore sees most of the rain water which falls west of the Great Divide in NSW. Bourke was about as far as any of the paddle steamers could go back in the 19th C when transporting the region's wool clip was the main activity of the town. The Darling River at Bourke is controlled and enables extensive irrigated grape, citrus and cotton crops to flourish in the district. The town also has extensive levee banks established to protect it in times of flood. All his tends to fly in the face of our previously held belief of Bourke being a dry and dusty frontier town. Perhaps 'back of Bourke' really means that Bourke marked the NSW barrier between intensive closer settlement and open grazing land use. Bourke was, up until the disastrous floods of the early 1990s, serviced by a rail line and freight service but that's now gone as have any hopes of the town fulfilling its founders drams of becoming 'The Chicago' of Australia!

Of course Bourke also played a pivotal role in the unionisation of shearers back in the 1890s.

Compared to Wilcannia, Bourke is a pretty town with many fine examples of colonial architecture.

While a number of the shops have steel shutters covering their windows , we have been reliably informed that this stemmed from troubles with Aboriginal youth many years ago and that at present the level of vandalism is negligible.

I would guess that at least 50% of the population is indigenous - they certainly seemed to monopolise the gaming machines at the Bowling Club. Another interesting observation is that the public are not permitted to walk into bottle shops but instead must point out their requirements to the attendant through a wire mesh screen. Bourke is also the home of Morrall's Bakery which for over 100 years has been selling great bush bread and pastries; including the famous Back O'Bourke Lamb Pies which somehow incorporate mint sauce in the chunky lamb and gravy contents. Yum!

The town also has a strong literary tradition which includes the poets Henry Lawson, Will Ogilvie, Breaker Morant - there is a Poets Corner in town which commemorates their literary output whilst living here in Bourke.

I also was able to establish that Breaker Morant's name is included on the Honour Role for the town's sons who had died during the Boer War. Readers who recall the film starring Edward (Callan) Woodward will, I am sure, remember that he was in fact executed by firing squad for murdering civilian Boers during that conflict. We also visited Bourke's concrete lock and weir built back in 1897 to help regulate the river's flow and thus assist navigation. It was surprising to learn that river steamers were still travelling up as far as Bourke up until the mid 1940s. In the immediate vicinity of the weir are numerous trees with their bark removed by the local indigenous people to make canoes and coolamons.