Kangaroo Island interlude

Australia’s third largest island is just off Adelaide in South Australia and we had a ferry booking across to Kangaroo Island (KI, the shortened form prevalently used) departing at 7p.m. on the  28 Dec and returning the afternoon of 31 Dec 2013.  However, we were encouraged by the lady in our Murray Bridge Caravan Park to extend our trip as it is an expensive outlay and the three days would only give us a taste. Peak time of year to extend - we managed to push through into another day!  We anxiously left Getaway in the Murray Bridge storage area and hoped the sun would constantly shine and keep our solar powered fridge and deep freeze in good order. $14.00 - half price to keep on site, against $3.00 per day to store. Although it was a 2.5 hour road trip down to Cape Jervis and the ferry terminal we left early that morning with the intention of enjoying the coastal route down the Fleurieu Peninsula with a lunch stop in Victor Harbour. We had covered this route with our brand new caravan back in April 2006 in the company of our friend Joe and Mona Skehel from Lincolnshire. It was a blustery day and with plenty of time to spare we walked across the causeway used by a horse drawn carriage to Granite Island to do a quick march around the hiking track before lunch in SKV people watching. Despite taking our time we still landed up with hours to spare. It was as well we had books to read as the wind certainly wasn’t letting up and the sea was running a strong swell.

 Wild winds and choppy sea we could barely see Kangaroo Island across the Backstairs Passage.

The 45 minute trip across the water was enough to make a young boy sick in front of Lea and whether she imagined that distinctive smell or not it was enough to make her feel peculiar and turn her stomach. Book held high to block any further vision it was a relief to reach land. We certainly didn’t fancy trying to cook supper in such windy weather that we promptly stopped outside the ferry terminal and bought a most tasty Isola pizza of pumpkin, mushroom and feta  to take away.  Although we’d been keen to find a council campground we decided in view of the weather to use the Penneshaw Caravan Park. That stung! And to make matters worse a group of girls turned up at 11p.m literally neighing with laughter as they noisily erected their tent barely a metre from SKV with their car lights blasting though. George, ever the deep sleeper, didn’t stir until morning and was taken aback to find a tent that close to our vehicle and immediately wanted to clear out of there. As a result, we were away well before 7a.m and ate our breakfast at Christmas Cove overlooking the Backstairs Passage between KI and the mainland.

 

We soon became acquainted with the ‘Kangaroo Wave’ as we passed other vehicles... If they waved they were friendly locals; if not they were tourists. As we travelled the north coast we stopped at the different campgrounds to size them up. All quite small and very busy with only an odd open site available. By night fall we had covered a lot of ground following the different roads down to the northern coastline. Approaching American River there were plenty of SOS signs to encourage folk to slow down and Save Our Swans as black swans cruised the inlet. At the town’s entrance a nautical display topped by a bronze Pelican introduced us to Pete the Pelican used to demarcate the scenic trail through the seaside settlement. George had a mulberry tree on his mind so we were soon through to Kingscote to find Reeves Point, the historic site of the first official European settlement in South Australia.    

 Planted in 1836 this ancient mulberry tree, full of fruit and birds is carefully guarded. Further away a young un’ grows from a cutting carefully propagated from the original.

George loves Mulberries while Lea can only recall a family of four young girls simultaneously suffering mulberry pie poisoning with dire results! Reeves Point, large and picturesque parkland with walking paths and interpretive signs was a lovely recreational place with great views and revegetation of local species underway.

 Overlooking the Bay of Shoals and beyond from Flagstaff Hill at Reeves Point. Useless photographer didn’t include much of the stonemasonry representing the first settler’s ships or the central flagpole featuring the crow’s nest!!!

Between visiting Emu  and Stokes Bay we came upon a strange sight – at the gate it said visitors were welcome to come in and enjoy the over 50,000 lights! Unsure, we drove in to find an empty car park so we ended up none the wiser.

No miniature, this was a huge white castle with many turrets. Outside, different features caught our eyes amongst which, this Viking boat.

We could not understand why there was no mention of this fairy tale wonderland and why anyone would go to such detailed lengths in the middle of nowhere with nothing to explain it all. Some turrets appeared to have been formed from that polythene piping with bits carved out.  Eventually George was to ask a guide at Admirals Arch whether he could throw any light on the castle we’d seen. Turned out a 75 year man lives there with a passion for building things and putting on a Christmas light pageantry. This year his special show was cancelled due to rain but he is happy for folk to drive in at night and see his Christmas lights at no charge. We were sorry not to have met this imaginative character.   

 We were most taken by the secluded beach at Stokes Bay. No photo would truly capture the tunnelled walkway through the rocks to reach the beach. Looking back at the rocky headland it is hard to believe a narrow passage threads its way through there.

Travelling the main road we came across the odd dead kangaroo and many freshly killed brush tailed possums but had no sightings of any kangaroos out in the rolling farmlands covered in golden grasses or densely forested ravines. We were to be reminded of Western Australia and Tasmanian habitat many times throughout our trip especially as we enjoyed stunning views across the sea; walked the white sands beside turquoise waters with amazing clarity on secluded beaches and coves.

 Snelling Beach from the top of Constitution Hill

A steep gravel road took us down to Western River Cove and we found a most unattractive campground perched on the top of the hill – no shade although it overlooked a footbridge over the river and a little sandy track ran beside it through to the pretty cove.

Lea stands on the eastern flank of the rocky headland to Western River Cove.

 

Lunch time!  A family had gathered in the trademark council Picnic shelter and we decided to find shade back at the top of the mountain overlooking farmland before taking a very corrugated road through to Harveys Return in the north western corner of the island. A rustic campground with secluded sites amidst shady sugar gum woodlands and Yakka (grass trees/ blackboys) that we had to ourselves for most of the afternoon.   We were interested in the camps odd name. We discovered it referred to ‘The Return Road’ between the Lighthouse at Cape Borda and Scott Cove. Back in the 1850’s, “Yatala” the lighthouse schooner used Scott Cove as a landing site to resupply the very remote Borda Lighthouse every three months. The stores had to be hauled up a steep incline and eventually these difficulties were recognised by the powers that be and the Lighthouse keeper given a horse and capstan to assist (horse drawn winch). We were amused to read that back in 1858 ‘a wayward underkeeper’ allowed the horse to stray and stores had to be man-hauled once again until a year later double rails were laid up the cliff from Scott Cove. That evening we did the Harvey Return Hike following the original route used by the three Cape Borda Lightkeepers. Below the site of the capstan the trail is very steep so walkers were warned to descend carefully. Just as Lea peered nervously down three young girls came scrambling up while their parents took constant rest-stops. With trusty walking stick in hand, Lea followed her husband down at a far slower speed and it was well worth the clamber. Time and erosion has taken a heavy toll on the track with few remnants of the rail remaining.  Scott Cove had a tiny sandy beach set within the most amazing outcrops of tightly folded zebra striped schist boulder rocks thinly embedded in some places with crusty crystalline. This was geological designs in nature at their best.    

Next morning Lea prepared to walk the old cart track along The Return Road to the Light house at Cape Borda 4.5kms away and was disappointed when George decided time was against us and best to go in SKV (9kms by road and very corrugated). We stopped at the well kept tiny cemetery and gained a poignant insight into the harsh realities of life in those early years. The first grave site was required for the Lighthouse keeper after he tumbled over a stump and pierced his eye. While the seven year old son of another keeper fell to his death from the lighthouse cliff; an infant battled Scarlet Fever in this remote area and sailors drowned as they unloaded supplies at Scott Cove. 

Cape Borda Lighthouse. Notably it was here we saw a single and on the face of it, habituated KI kangaroo, a markedly darker sub species of the Western Grey.

From the Lighthouse we enjoyed the Lighthouse cliff-top hike through the rock gardens into the thick surrounds of stunted vegetation to the Lookout giving dramatic views over the cliff edge.

 In a sea of stunted heath and mallee on the uneven and potholed rocky pathway to the lookout.

On our return, we spent time in the museum where the words FEAR GOD AND HONOR THY QUEEN definitely required a mention as it captures another aspect of that era ... A light keeper at Cape Borda named his children for each letter...

Florence 4/8/1868

Ethel 28/11/1871

Alice 30/6/1873

Rose 27/7/1874

 

Gertrude 23/4/1876

Olivia 30/9/1877

Deslandes 3/4/1879

 
Alf 1/6/1880

Norrie 26/1/1881

D’Arcy 15/7/1883

Hilda 6/4/1885

Octavious 6/11/1886 ...Wherein, his poor mother Mary, died giving birth to him.

The Light keeper remarried in 1900 and although his new wife presented him with twin girls; she appears to have refused to complete the ‘letters’ as they were named Ella and Stella!  

Returning along the so called Playford Highway – nothing but rough corrugations, we turned south to visit the Flinders Chase National Park.  We checked out the two campgrounds before entering the National Park Visitors Centre to find out whether we could ‘book’ a site. Nothing in the pricey main camp and pleasingly site 8 (the very site that had appealed to us) at Snake Lagoon was open.  With a place ensured for the night, we worked through the wildlife and historical displays at the centre and after a quick lunch back in SKV we set off for Cape du Couedic.  Here, we were captivated from our first viewing of the lighthouse extending across to The Brothers – two Casuarina Islets. 

From the lookout above the colony of New Zealand fur seals we looked across at the Casuarina Islets and the mainland boardwalk down to Admirals Arch.

 Little did we suspect such a stunning portal through which to watch seals wallowing around in a pool and waves surging up the surrounding rock-faces, existed when we had stared across from the fur Seal platform.

We were intrigued at how heavily weathered the wooden viewing platform had become – the grain within the timber had become distinctly furry! George asked a Guide attending to a  party of American guests what accounted for that. Salt spray! Normally a very strong salt bearing wind funnels through the Arch making photography difficult and depositing a salt that steadily eats away at the wooden structures. Admirals Arch was a highlight!

 

This was the other highlight -  the wind sculptured Remarkable Rocks set on a large granite dome with a backdrop of rugged coastal scenery.  

Busloads of tourists poured in to visit this famous landmark and from a distance we equated them to ‘meat ants’ scurrying all over the rock. Fortunately by the time we had wandered down, there were not quite as many. On returning to Park Headquarters we stopped for a shower ($4 each) in the main campground before heading back along the deeply corrugated gravel road (so much so the whole headlight had dropped out of someone’s car) back to Snake Lagoon campsite. Came time to cook supper and the gas stove would not work. Had we run out of gas or the jet had blocked. Fortunately we had some left over rice and chopped up cooked chicken that had steadily defrosted over the days – so that saved the day. After supper we’d took the Snake Lagoon hiking trail expecting to come across the lagoon. Nothing! George suggested the wetlands, lying alongside our campsite, was the dry lagoon. No kangaroos came to graze on this potentially prime feeding area.

4 a.m. .-  Lea bolted upright in bed trying to clear her head of a lion growling – Where was she... Africa?  As she clarified the noise she began to think the ongoing grunting that continued to reverberate around her must be a feral pig! She woke George, with “LISTEN” and after a long pause followed by the silence of the night – he said it was a koala. This had us both considering the habitat on and off for the rest of the night. Were the specific trees that koalas eat, in our vicinity?  By morning we had decided that Snake Lagoon, a wetland area probably did have the right gums. We had a good look round but saw nothing in surrounding trees.

Koalas were introduced to KI in 1920 and apparently the population numbers grew so fast they ate the island out of house and home. By 1977, Parks Wildlife began a sterilising program and some koalas were used to restock areas on the mainland. It had been implied in brochures that you wouldn’t have to try too hard to spot a koala on KI but for all our trying - we’d seen nothing until hearing the deep guttural grunting and growling of the night and even that we questioned!  Further along the south coast, near Hanson Bay, was a ‘Koala Walk’ in a Wildlife Sanctuary - $6 a head.  Not quite the same as coming across koalas in the wild but we were keen. With necks craned upwards we steadily walked the avenues searching the forks and bowers of each tree. Koalas tend to spend 20 hours of their day asleep... Naturally, our sightings spotted them hugging the tree fast asleep in typical koala positions. Then we struck lucky with a mother and joey remarkably close on a sprawling gum, although the rising sun was not in our favour. This agile little creature was keen to show off his acrobatic abilities with some heart stopping moments. He/she had just reached the age of learning to be independent and was the cutest little thing as it clambered over his seemingly exhausted mother. We were entertained for a good hour before we reluctantly withdrew and went in search of others - 9 in all but the others all in repose. Lea spoke to a carer and he confirmed we’d definitely heard a male koala – as they will ‘roar’ when advertising their presence in a new area especially below a tree.       

 Koala walk

Thereafter we moved steadily down the south coast popping down the side roads to the different beaches. We walked along many just to enjoy the wonderful cerulean colours of the clear waters and the rugged rock formations. We had brought bathers and yet not once had we put them on despite such inviting waters- Southern Ocean just too cold for us!  Vivonne Bay, once voted Australia’s Best Beach, was picturesque with crayfish boats bobbing at anchor. Further east, we came to the Seal Bay Conservation Centre. Tours were expensive and as Lea had enjoyed close encounters with sea lions in San Francisco she was happy to give this a miss and retired to read her book leaving George to weigh up a tour onto the beach ($26) or the board walk ($12). He chose the latter and thoroughly enjoyed seeing the setting of the lookout, the very substantial board walk constructed and watching over 100 sea lions lazing on the beach, some lying in the shade below the boardwalk itself.    

Seal Bay 

On reaching the  Murray Lagoon road we were surprised to see a road closed sign on one half- was it or wasn’t it? We disregarded it and continued on only to find a very high water table at Curley Creek  walking trail so we returned to go inland for a couple of hours. In the last working hours of 2013 we decided to visit two places that interested us before heading further round to the eastern section of Cape Gantheaume Conservation Park to find ourselves a quiet camp for the night.

 ‘Emu Ridge’ a eucalyptus distillery – now the only commercial Still in operation in South Australia.

Our interest in visiting a Eucalyptus Distillery was sparked back in 2012 when we passed through Inglewood, South Australia and pondered the words Eucy Museum. On the other side of Inglewood we had spotted a strange looking contraption and turned back for closer scrutiny. It was the Eucy Museum and although closed we were able to ascertain that it was a historic eucalyptus distillery – on a far bigger scale than we were to see at Emu Ridge.  Kangaroo Island’s major industry in Eucalyptus Oil began around the 1880’s and peaked in the 1930’s to become Australia’s first true export. Sheep farming steadily took over the island as it was easier work and better money. Now, 90% of the country’s Eucalyptus oil requirements are imported! In 1991, in a turn of the wheel of fortune, Larry and Bev Turner of Emu Ridge looked for an alternative form of income to sheep farming and rekindled an interest in the distilling of Eucalyptus oil from the narrow leaf mallee. They have steadily increased productivity and harvest to produce fragrant oil, 100% pure.

Far back in 1885, Kangaroo Island was declared a Bee Sanctuary as it was ‘home’ to the famous Ligurian Bee. Thus our next stop had to be Clifford’s Honey Farm to discover what the devil a Ligurian Bee was!  We came across an example of an introduced species which has proved to provide successful and valuable service to the country. Surprising us further was the fact that Australian native bees do not produce commercial honey. Hence, the importation in 1881 of a very placid, gentle bee producing fine honey; arriving from the region of Liguria, in Northern Italy. Australian honey bees are all descendants from those bees brought in from Europe. Kangaroo Island even exports Queen Bees all over the world for breeding with more aggressive species in an effort to try and calm them. Furthermore, Ligurian Bees in Italy have all interbred with other species and thanks to the isolation of Kangaroo Island – the only genetically pure population in the world are to be found here. After the informative video in the interpretive centre and watching the Ligurian bees in a glass beehive do the waggle dance on a very hot afternoon we decided to try Jenny’s original honey ice-cream and while chatting to her discovered that all the unexpected bodies of water we had noticed as we travelled towards D’Estrees Bay was the result of very recent heavy rainfall in the Cape Gantheaume area and many roads were closed.  That accounted for why we couldn’t get to Murray Lagoon and we definitely would be unable to access the camp sites at Wheaton or Wrecker’s Beach. Jenny suggested American River. We had our doubts but returned to find one site remained on the small narrow campground and it wasn’t on the waterfront. Then we noticed a band would be playing over the road for New Year – we departed in a hurry.  Not only would we complete our circumnavigation of KI, Lea thought our chances of a quiet camp site may be better over at Antechamber Bay. However, the road that would take us across the Dudley Peninsula was immediately opposite Browns Beach – we popped in there for another look. There were three or four tents well spread out with a shady spot that suited us well as it seemed increasingly hotter despite the evening hour. We stayed! Spent a relaxed New Year’s Eve reading – even our cold meal out of a tin went down well in view of the heat. Just before sunset (9p.m.) we walked down to the beach and discovered a brand new shower block had been completed in time for the peak season. We had noticed that all the council campgrounds not only have a fine large shelter with electric BBQ overlooking beaches they also provided picnic tables  around the grounds ; some with a roof tops. We were even more impressed with the Council’s new addition of two showers to basic bush camping at Browns.    Hot inside SKV, Lea restlessly tossed around before falling asleep. A night so very quiet, we were totally unaware of the year’s change over until we awoke next morning to overcast skies and drizzle.

As soon as we’d eaten our breakfast we made for Cape Willoughby Lighthouse followed by a trip to Lashmar Conservation Park where we checked out the camp sites at Antechamber Bay, They too, would have suited us last night. To close off the round trip of Kangaroo Island our first stop back in Penneshaw had to be a cafe for a warming and very welcome cuppa – much appreciated as we enjoyed sweeping views of the island and mainland. In the remaining hours we walked down to the Fairy Penguin Centre and across Hogs Beach to Frenchman’s Rock where Mathew Flinders found fresh water.  Soon after departing, his ship met up with the French explorer Baudin in the Geographe and they told him where his crew would find fresh meat (kangaroo) and water on newly named ‘Kangaroo Island’ in honour of the roos who’d provided their first fresh meat!  While waiting for the casks to fill with water from the spring, a French sailor produced the first graffiti on a nearby rock carving ‘Expedition de decoverte par le commandant Baudin sur le Geographe 1803’.In later years, a white dome was built over it for protection until it was deemed necessary to move it to the Adelaide Museum before being returned to the KI VIC. A replica placed on the actual site.    

 

Hog Beach at Penneshaw, with the Ferry Terminal at the far end. Lea inspects the replica stone under the white dome.

 From the Contemplation Seat overlooking Hog Bay we reflected on the surprisingly kangaroo-less days spent enjoying the Island’s natural beauties.  

As we began KI so we ended with lunch at Isola Pizza Parlour before catching the ferry back to the mainland.  Despite being overcast and drizzly we had calm seas for the ride back to the mainland and completed the round trip of Fleureau Peninsula back to Murray Bridge by 5.30 p.m. Pleased to find Getaway and the solar panel in good order after a grey day.

 

Tramping tales for December

After slowly bobbing up and down the hills within the Great Dividing for a month it truly felt as if we were ‘speeding’ along the flat open roads out west after leaving Merriwa in the direction of Dunedoo. Like race horses it’s the names that capture our imaginations... Dunedoo, like Merriwa was virtually an empty caravan park. It finally provided us with a washing machine and enabled us to get the loads of washing that had been steadily building and taking up valuable space since we left Kootingal. Wet weather and remoteness played their parts. Laundry done, we were all set to GO and explore new areas in central NSW.

The Big Rabbit Trap had captured George’s imagination and we were headed for Albert. Not that we planned to get there quite as fast as we did ... Bush camps out in the hot, flat lands of wheat didn’t look so good and we just carried on. Before we knew, Gilgandra of Coo-ee fame had flashed by and we were in Albert.  George had conjured up all sorts of ideas in his mind when it came to catching rabbits on a large scale and judging by the odd little places we passed in the blink of an eye Lea felt it was all some wild goose chase. We nearly collapsed on seeing a very large ‘ornamental’ gin trap on the roof of a pub way out in the scrub.  We had truly been caught in Albert!

A free site, we never-the-less pulled up outside the small and well kept children’s playground with toilets and shower opposite the old hotel and stayed the night. We were joined by a motor home and a tent in time. Just too hot to walk around, we waited until sunset before strolling over to the Rabbit Trap Pub for an icy draught. Albert was virtually dead until given a new lease on life by the Owen family. They run a truckies service station beside the hotel and snapped up the old hotel’s liquor licence to prevent losing it to Sydney Fat Cats. Apparently business men buy cheap hotels out bush just for the ‘liquor licence’ and that becomes  the death knell for a community. The Owen family renovated the hotel and turned the pub – named for the local water hole (nothing to do with rabbit catching) into a popular social venue.   It certainly traps the passing trade- predominantly road trains, well into the night. After all that, we enjoyed a pleasant night.

   

It is such a pleasure to ride the empty minor roads. Many of which have been overhauled over the past six years and are much improved thanks to the recent Labor Government ‘Roads to Recovery’ program –  rarely credited as a result of their in-house conflicts and an Opposition that loudly overrode everything with negativity. Our rig rolled along so easily we were able to observe detail in land use and vegetation. Ensure we didn’t squash road slugs (our name for shingleback / bobtail lizards) and avoided dragon lizards crossing the road as we headed south. We’d been to Nundle and now we wanted to see Trundle!

Trundle boasts the widest NSW main street through town and a 1909 hotel built out of mud, rendered with cement and adorned with the longest wooden verandah in Australia.

We were interested to see whether life had returned to Trundle through its Trundle Tree Change Project. This community created an external buzz when it reinvigorated itself by attracting families to the district to ensure their schools and businesses survived. They did this by offering farmhouse rentals for a $1 a week!  From what we could see, as we drove slowly around – there was definitely signs of optimism; everything appeared to be thriving.  This had us thinking that instead of pouring money into wretched off-shore facilities for refugees – the money would be better used in reviving settlements with ‘new blood’. Family groups settled according to their abilities/skills and given a reason to live rather than mental problems arising in detention camps. Our Foreign Minister turns a blind eye when she equates detention camps to being better than miners’ camps. No wonder an abhorrence of these ‘strangers’ arises given the propaganda that abounds.

We cut west again to Condobolin. Not too far on the east side of town was Utes in the Paddock. We drove out from Parkes to see those last time we were in the vicinity. This time we were more interested in following the Lachlan River to Lake Cargelligo. It was a particularly hot day and we couldn’t wait to find ourselves a shady bush camp in one of many ticked sites in Camps 6 outside Condobolin, only we took the wrong route and the dusty road didn’t help. Eventually we found Booberoi Weir – grateful for the instruction to turn south opposite a radio tower or we’d never have found it.

It is easy to play the blame game when it comes to the usage of bush sites by free campers. Who leaves the ‘mess’ despite the Leave no Trace Outdoor Creed is for anyone to hazard a guess. Two drums for litter at Booberoi Weir and yet cans, bottles, disposable nappies and other plastics littered the area, particularly around fire places. In frustration, we cleaned up before collapsing in this lovely spot as the steadily climbing temperature knocked us into a silent stupor. 37.8⁰ C had only dropped to 31⁰ c by the time we went to bed – summer lies ahead!  We moved on some 50 kms next day to another free camp at Cargelligo Weir and found the rubbish equally disturbing plus a wafting smell that turned out to be fish skulls and skins left lying around choice camp sites. Never mind No Fishing signs! Indications strongly favoured fishermen as there were also wrappings to fish hooks and bait amongst the beer bottles. The back of SKV became the ‘holding pen’ until we reach the next skip as again, we cleaned up.  During the afternoon a 4WD thundered around the surrounding weir grounds before driving in next to us. Out bundled Aboriginal children and dogs to hare around the weir outlet for a while. We were left to wonder about the conflicted Care of Country ethos as we endured a muggy day with clouds gathering, giving no more than a drop or two before billowing on.

Rain came during the night and we awoke to very grey skies and a definite drop in temperature as we moved on to Lake Cargelligo. We were most surprised by the town of Cargelligo. Certainly didn’t expect to come across such a good sized and good looking town overlooking the lake. After a ‘look around’ we decided the weather didn’t bode well and Rankin Spring may be the better bet. Slowly, we made our way to the little town of Rankin Spring through cloud burst after cloud burst with wild winds hammering our rig. We noticed many dead Galahs on the road. These pretty birds are known to be foolish when it comes to safety as they feed on roadsides. In the strong winds they grossly underestimated their ability to avoid being wiped out by vehicles. Trashed bodies, randomly scattered along the road invariably had a grieving mate close by in shock; sometimes examining a still bundle of grey and pink feathers... [“PUT in ‘seemingly grieving’ Lea, don’t anthropomorphize” - Yeh, yeh!]  After a stint of hail followed by sleet, SKV lurched violently and our hearts looped de loop...

   

 Blowout... We raced the next storm to get the wheel changed in icy winds

With a tyre blown to smithereens, Griffith was our best bet for a replacement. In normal circumstances Rankin Spring would have suited us. This time, it didn’t prove warmly inviting and we kept going to the Riverina. All too soon, we were reminded of The Fruit Fly Zone. It had come up sooner than we had expected and in a pleasant rest area alongside the Quarantine Bin, we naturally ate our remaining apples, chopped up and cooked our tomatoes and squeezed out the juice of one lemon. Just as well we didn’t have much on the list of prohibited fruit and veg. Back on the side of the Quarantine laws we continued to Griffith. Luckily - Beaurepaires stood out as we entered the city and very competent young men soon had us back on the road in double quick time with a new tyre in place. On our first visit, Griffith Caravan Parks had not appealed to us one bit and we’d ended up staying at Darlington Point, 30kms south.  Despite being damp, cold and hungry we decided Darlington Point on the Murrumbidgee River was still the better roosting place. There on the flood plains beneath huge river gums we were glad to revive with hot showers and a feed. Finally, we relaxed as the shocking weather continued. 

We’d recently checked whether the Lebish family were ‘at Home’ for the Rubber Tramps as this was the best point to change direction and head for High Country, Victoria.  Sue Lebish works in Canberra. Due to distance she works the alternate week from home. Eager to catch Sue before she left for Canberra, we pressed on next day. Our route took us through Jerilderie. We couldn’t resist a stop to walk another significant site in Kelly Territory (never mind the chill factor). The Ned Kelly era certainly grabs the Australian psyche and it fascinates us despite his ridiculously crude iron suit of protection.  We have enjoyed following his trails in many Victorian towns relating to his ’story’. The only time Ned and his gang crossed into NSW was for a well planned raid on Jerilderie’s bank for a loot of $2000.  We collected a Jerilderie map of Ned Kelly’s raid on the town in 1879 and sallied forth... It’s a good way to explore a town and although there were 15 locations we were happy with seeing the ten important ones.

Number 1 – a  minute Post and Telegraph Office where Ned Kelly ordered the disabling of the telegraphic machine  and eight telegraphic poles to be cut down to prevent news of their robbery spreading...

It is amazing to travel through Australia’s once dry, barren plains – laser levelled and watered from the Murrumbidgee, Murray and Snowy Rivers by irrigation canals that weave their way through kilometre after kilometre of land covered in large patchworks of golden wheat fields (40 million hectares under wheat in Australia) and rice paddies indented with newly flushed green lying in water. In time this, will provide part of the 70 tons of rice feeding the nation and the world.  The new generation of farmers’ complete days of work in a matter of hours by using revolutionary methods.  We cut down to Berrigan and on reaching Mulwala – stopped for a quick lunch break beside the lake. It always reminds us of Kariba with its dead trees sticking out of the water. We were soon on our way and almost immediately, crossed into the State of Victoria over the mighty Murray River and on, up the other side of Lake Mulwala to the entry point of the Ovens River. There, we spent a quiet night at Parolas Bend, a free camp in the Lower Ovens Regional Park.  Good weather had returned as we awoke next morning to breaking news on every channel in Australia. Nelson Mandela’ had died in South Africa. Lea developed tremendous admiration for this man dating from his Rivonia Trial that she followed as a teenager. A man who’d maintained his self worth regardless of the indignities and inhumane conduct thrust upon him and so many others by a ghastly apartheid system. Madiba resisted giving in to fear and anxiety and Lea took his words “Pretend to be brave and you not only become brave – you are brave” to heart. It is said that his favourite passage came from Julius Caesar and it follows “Cowards die many times before their deaths. The valiant never taste death but once.  Of all the wonders I have yet seen. It seems to me most strange that men fear seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.”  How fitting and meaningful that Mandela, a man of simplicity rose to historic heights and lived to the age of 95 in spite of everything. Tears flowed and if Lea wasn’t to arrive at next destination with swollen eyes it was best to hit the road. We made Wangaratta and did a quick shop before heading for Scott and Sue Lebish in Happy Valley near Ovens, an hour away.

Home from home, we relaxed on the edge of the High Country for the next six days finding it very hard to move on as we helped around the property enjoying Lebish companionship; this includes two horses nostril or lip blowing behind our caravan; chickens rushing to the fence in anticipation of scraps every time we passed by; a handful of curious cattle watching Lea hang out laundry and the dogs... Gus the Schnauzer was tormented mercilessly by the new upstart Jack, a Kelpie pup of 12 weeks, forever tugging at his beard. And, we made the most of CHERRIES galore, fresh from their neighbouring friends.

Promises of ‘cod for the caravan freezer’ came to nothing when Nic took the ill-starred George fishing on the Ovens River. Lea recalls the same result when it came to trout fishing on a previous visit.  Nor did George come away with a fox brush after fox hunting with Scott and Nic one night!

We popped over to Bright with Bek before going for lunch with her grandfather and our Kariba friend Roger Lebish and partner Judy, in Wandiligong. The next day Roger and Judy collected the three of us and took us up the tortuously twisty road through Mount Beauty, Bogong Hydro village to Halls Creek and across the high plains to Pretty Valley for a picnic.

 What a difference 1,000 metres made as we shivered and shook over a picnic until sanity forced us to seek shelter beside a mountain hut -  Roger, Judy, Bek and Lea.

This is Australian pioneer Howman high country where Lea’s distant ancestors grazed their cattle. It is a beautiful landscape despite the dominant stark remains of snow gums decimated by fire years ago. Oddly we had no recall of the dominance of these white skeletal snow gums that gave mountain sides a strange grey appearance and glowed white like snow when the sun happened to break through the cloud. George checked his 2008 photos and sure enough they had been there. In fact, the root stock has since thrown new growth which became obvious close up. The winter entry gate to the Alpine National Park at Howman’s Gap has been renamed Falls Creek since we were last here in 2008, as have the snow vehicles within the alpine resort. 

A view of the alpine country of Victoria from the top of Mount Bogong, 1700m above sea level.

Westward ho... We departed Happy Valley for Shepparton and through to Green Lake Recreation Reserve for two nights- a huge campground with quite a few folk parked there. We found ourselves a private spot well away from the boat ramp and the speed boats with aqua-planers or skiers. Irritatingly noisy, a persistent wind whistled around Getaway as it blew across the plains throughout our stay.

Our site at Green Lake

Twenty kilometres further down the main drag took us to another recommended site, Aysons Reserve beside the Campaspe River for a night. Another great spot which had us look at the route ahead, match dates and deadlines before deciding it was best to keep moving... Having missed Mandela’s memorial service we did not want to miss his funeral. George set up TV before we went for an early walk. By chance Lea decided to check we had the channel televising it the hour before and discovered the funeral was underway. We sat riveted for the next four hours with a flock of long billed Corella and Galahs pitifully moaning, squawking and squeaking outside our door.

Sunset over the Campaspe River from our site at Aysons Reserve

On reaching Echuca, we didn’t stop as we’d had a good look around in 2011 and took the Murray Valley Highway - bit of a misnomer as it’s as flat as a pancake as far as the eye can see, dry and pretty barren without the agricultural richness we’d expected.  We pulled up in the settlement of Gunbower and checked out the caravan park.  We needed water for our tanks and a good shower wouldn’t go amiss. A quiet, well kept park with green lawns and shady trees went down well for the night. Come evening, too hot to cook dinner inside, we chanced on an interesting fellow. Our neighbour arrived home to the old static van diagonally opposite our site and began chatting away as flies mobbed around our frypan with conversations ranging over colonial pasts and histories. Just before we took refuge from the flies to eat our dinner in peace, Russell McNab popped back with a photocopy about a unique art collection depicting Echuca history. From this, we discovered that not only was Russell an Australian Pioneer Heritage Historian, he was also an artist, author and boat designer and builder. We were intrigued to read of his collection of artworks and drawing plans related to historic Echuca’s Murray River Paddle Steamers. After dinner, we again caught up with Russell as he produced another photocopy of his five books which included the work he did for the 1999 Matthew Flinders Bicentennial celebrations in Hervey Bay. Aside from his books was his designing abilities, in particular his design of Gypsy Pearl (a replica of an historic Pearling Lugger) the winner of the Hobart to Sydney Australian Bicentennial Historic Tall Ships Race and more up to date his ‘Eco Wise’ low environmental impact boat designs especially his Safety Yacht producing a safer, simplified and uncluttered deck with easier to handle rigging. Against the norm this had turned into a fascinating night.

We moved on to a site in the Murray River Reserve, SE of Koondrook, in the Gunbower State Forest. Gunbower ‘Island’ lies between the Murray River and probably, a former channel known as Gunbower Creek. This large inland island stretches from Koondrook to well beyond the settlement of Gunbower (which we may add, is not on the island itself).

Gunbower Island - amongst the River Red gums and golden grasses we found ourselves a lovely spot beside the winding Gunbower Creek. 

Since leaving the High Country we have taken to walking in the late evening (7pm) to escape the worst of the day’s heat – regardless, we still arrive back hot and parched. That night we were keen to walk over the island to the Murray River and came across a meandering path we followed for a good while along the Murray. Later, we learnt it was part of the Koondrook Red Gum Forest Walk composed of a 9 km Eagle Loop and a 13 km Turtle Loop that allows visitors to experience the beauty and tranquillity of the second largest River Red Gum Forest in Northern Victoria plus a wetland of international significance.

We deliberately took a back road through Koondrook as it ran closer to the course of the Murray and avoided the heavy traffic of Murray Valley Highway. No sooner had we rejoined the busy highway than we came across Lake Boga, home to the famous Catalina Flying Boat. After the Japanese attack on Broome in 1942 - Lake Boga was the site chosen as a repair depot and in time, 416 aircraft were serviced here. Sixteen kilometres further – Swan Hill. We stopped to collect any information on the road ahead from the VIC. Last time we were in Swan Hill, we struggled to find the famous Moreton Bay Fig. George recalled it as we entered town and, despite Lea having no memory of it – ‘bells rang’ as we walked down to the Visitors Centre – there stood the tree, albeit in pretty poor shape.

The largest fig tree in Victoria, 29m in height (in 2007) is a tree of significance and locally known as the Burke & Wills tree.

Swan Hill, settled in 1840, was the only punt crossing on the Murray River for a 100km in either direction and, it was the only bush settlement explorers Burke and Wills camped in. The Moreton Bay Fig reportedly planted to honour their expedition 6-13 September 1861. As the VIC lady was to explain, the community had feared for the tree’s very survival and taken drastic steps to cut it back. Most recently, to their relief the first signs of coppicing appeared. Our lady gave us a map and instructions to Nyah Recreation Reserve... Just as well, as we still battled to find it!  After a good look round Nyah Recreation Reserve – best sites taken, we continued along the narrow track into the Murray River Reserve and enjoyed a private place of our own – every window wide to grab any bit of breeze and it was too hot to even consider a walk at sunset!

Murray River at Nyah as it meanders through the Murray Reserve.

No prizes for what lured us to the next destination! The surrounds were intensely cultivated with wide spread stone fruit orchards and vineyards. Why some rows of vine were carefully covered in lengths of white plastic we were not sure. It had us wondering whether it protected against hail or direct sunlight but then why some sections and not others. Meanwhile, our eyes scanned for the small, all important Tol Tol Road sign. Spotted! We turned off the highway and began searching for a particular track to...

IT’S ALL IN A NAME!

Beggs Bend State Forest! Our side of the Murray River at Beggs Bend turned out to be quite scrubby with little shade. We had been watching the temperature climb since early morning. Despite unease over his wife’s inability to cope in dry heat – George badly wanted to stay a night in his personal bend!!! Using Saxon’s temperature gauge he recorded the range.

  

Everything melted – from honey to ointments! Fridge laboured, scarcely able to keep up the demand for cold water as it came hot from the tap. Nor was a drop of urine was passed all day despite drinking all we could. Eventually George resorted to giving Lea a bed bath to ease the situation. Soon after 9p.m. lightening on the horizon bedazzled and promised respite yet the dark clouds wafted by leaving us with a few drops and a still and muggy atmosphere.

      

The thought of yet another sleepless night under these severe conditions along with a radio news report of fires burning in the direction of Hattah-Kulkyne National Park – we decided to push through to Robinvale and back into NSW taking the more direct route to Mildura. Healthy asparagus fields, vineyards, almond trees, stone fruit and citrus groves lined the route but there were also many abandoned citrus trees and vines – dying and dead. By the time we arrived at the Visitor Information Centre in Mildura – Lea was ready to spend the rest of the day there in air-conditioned comfort amongst a wide variety of designer Christmas Trees by the community. In our considered opinion the top three, in no particular order were the early childhood class’ Thong Tree, a folksy Patchwork Tree and an Australian Hats Tree. We were stunned at how many caravan parks exist in and around Mildura and the VIC personnel made us nervous about getting a site close to Christmas (in this heat we thought everyone would head for the coast). We decided on the Apex River Beach Park situated on the banks of the Murray River, 4 kms from the main street of Mildura. It was virtually empty! As soon as power was connected, the air-conditioner was switched on. Despite the heat of the day (in the 40’s) George mended the aluminium channel end we’d caught on a tree departing from Beggs Bend. Installed for shade cloth it had ripped out. Hot and bothered everything began to go wrong... the air conditioner stalled displaying an error message; the status of our deep cycle batteries declined despite being on power and charging; the fridge gave us nervous disorders as it wasn’t as cold as it should be; the Anderson Plug didn’t appear to be working and finally the 20 cent discount we had expected on Woolies fuel wasn’t on George’s card not even a 4 cent discount! A Friday afternoon close to Christmas and several fruitless phone calls later we quietly stewed in Getaway. Finally it was ascertained no tradesmen were available to help until into the New Year. It was also too hot to walk- all added up to BAD FRIDAY!

Early next morning (for Rubber Tramps that is...) a light breeze off the river encouraged us to head down to ‘the beach’; there we chanced on a houseboat gently chugging upstream.

We will be doing that soon!

We strode off up the 3km length of walking track along the river to the Old Mildura Homestead - speedier than the houseboat and returned for a late breakfast and shower. We decided not to sit out another hot day and took off for the movie house soon after midday. Not much of a choice for the likes of us; we chose American Hustler as the better of all nonsense and soon, we were lost in good acting by unknowns in a delightfully clever script! We walked out mid afternoon into the strangest muggy atmosphere with a smoky looking sky and sirens blasting forth- we almost believed we’d stepped into surreal film set. At the street corner a few people mingled around and on our approach- they were quick to tell us we couldn’t go in... Startled, we realised we were outside an IGA supermarket. We shook our heads as we didn’t want in and asked what was wrong - FIRE! As we crossed the rather deserted car park we came across the fire engines with firemen unrolling hoses or donning oxygen tanks. We still couldn’t see smoke or flames and watched briefly but nothing seemed dire despite the turnout. In those heat conditions probably safer than sorry!

Overcast skies and the odd drop of rain had us off and away for Merbein – west of Mildura to find the Old Mail route along the Murray. Easier said than done, we stopped at a Merbein Fuel Station to ask further directions and by chance George asked an old fisherman. He was a font of knowledge and quick to say it was a bad idea particularly with a caravan with the prospect of rain.  He was prepared to lead us through part of the back route to a road taking us to Lake Cullulleraine with suggestions that thereafter we return to the main highway. More map searching followed by a decision to avoid the Sturt Highway, continue to Wentworth, NSW and take the back road on the other side of the Murray to Renmark.  We had taken the old Wentworth/ Renmark route before as Wentworth is the junction where the Darling joins the Murray. Passing through we eyed the junction and kept going. Too early to stop at Fort Courage, the lovely caravan park we’d stayed at last time. On we went.... Eventually, we took the Rufus River Road where we were to see a good few large ‘road slugs’ as well as force two snakes to get a wiggle on across the road as we thundered over the corrugations (more noise than speed) - headed for the southern end of Lake Victoria.

One of the Rufus River Road Slugs! Known as Shingleback, Bobtail or Blue Tongue lizards we call them road slugs due to their shape and slowness on the road. 

Well before arriving at Frenchman’s Creek we’d been amazed by lengths of ‘dunes’ until we decided they were more likely to be remnants of old river meanders. From dry salt bush country we were soon astonished by a vivid green habitat teeming with bird life and as we crossed the creek bridge we looked across wetlands gleaming with water as many fishing birds took to the sky in fright. Shortly after, we took the road to Lock 7 on the Murray Darling River.

 

Lock 7 with glorious sights of birds fishing and resting at the weir.

Setting up in a premium spot we enjoyed hours observing pelicans fishing in groups, regally floating when in all likelihood they were paddling like the clappers to keep their position in the strong current. The manner in which they synchronously fish by ducking their heads underwater was poetry in motion. A huge tree had conveniently fallen into the river and died to provide perches for over 70 cormorants of three different species and numerous darters to dry their wings and rest after fishing. Close by, the weir barrier of yellow buoys similarly provided roosting and preening platforms for another few dozen. Excitement ignited when lights began to flash signifying the Lock was in use. Disappointingly, a very small fishing craft passed through on the Victoria side of the river on a surprisingly quiet day for boat traffic. Come evening, a walk took us to the confluence of the Murray Darling and Rufus River. We followed it inland. Spied emu drinking further upstream and hotfooted it through the bush hoping to get a good photo. Five elusive Emus, well camouflaged in the bush, led us on a fun tracking course for the next half hour or more before Lea spotted them running like the wind- obviously hadn’t enjoyed being spooked by us! 

That night, during our usual fiercely contested scrabble game we have when there is no TV, it began to drizzle. Before too long a good soaking rain set in for the night. Lea grew fretful thinking of the dirt road ahead and getting out of the camp site as it was a slippery clay while her husband peacefully slept. Morning relief seeing a blue sunny sky was short lived as a chippy wind brought in the clouds and we tracked out with mud flicking up everywhere.  Back on the Rufus River Road we arrived at another good camp site at the Rufus River/ Lake Victoria outlet with another large congregation of fish eating birds on the south side of the road. On the north side, we clambered up the finely gravelled slope of ‘dune’ having failed to notice a well presented entrance ramp with mosaic fish insets up to the Lake Victoria Memorial Lookout.

Our dune was a mighty berm from which we were able to gaze out over Lake Victoria – a key national water resource, an important Aboriginal cultural heritage site and MORE...  Lea stood on one of many sand tubes providing wave protection. 

Fate had made possible a very worthwhile trip for us!   Our curiosity over South Australia ownership of land at the weir/Lock 7 notwithstanding their border being at least 60 kms west as a bird flies was answered here. We had unexpectedly found ourselves in an area of intense historic, environmental and engineering interest. First impression presented as a man-made lake yet this is an ancient area dating back to a vast Lake Bungunnia until some 10,000 years ago the Lake contracted to a small pool within its bigger basin when the Murray River flow reduced for some reason. The arrival of Europeans in the 1830’s changed the lifestyle of Aboriginals living in the region and gave rise to awful conflicts ending in the 1841 Rufus River Massacre. By 1919 The Murray River Commission comprised of four Governments (QLD, NSW, VIC, SA) approved the construction of 52 km of levee banks (our dunes!) and three regulators to form Lake Victoria Storage, so doubling the lake’s water capacity. The South Australian Government undertook the construction work and they have managed the storage ever since hence numerous S.A. Access Protocol signs everywhere!  During the Second World War, Lake Victoria was used as an Operational Training Ground by the RAAF leading to a number of crashes in the lake with 6 airmen losing their lives. Over time Lake Victoria was crucial to water regulation, salinity mitigation and flow management of the Murray Darling System. More importantly it supplies the bulk of South Australia’s water entitlement. In 1994, while lowering the lake for maintenance purposes important tangible archaeological evidence of Aboriginal occupation dating from 45,000 years ago were revealed. Since then Lake Storage operations have been restricted as the Murray Darling Basin Authority invested in the conservation of what has become the largest single cultural heritage project.

Leaving the Rufus River settlement the road became very slippery with the caravan wanting to snake behind the truck. While trying to maintain momentum the windscreen became covered in muddy water and we engaged in 4WD. Many Eastern Grey Kangaroos were seen around road puddles and raced us down fence lines until they found a gap to bob through. Once back on the old Renmark road we found its poor corrugated condition very different from what we recalled in 2012. Crossing the State Border the road improved markedly. As the crow flies we were very close to a State Corner – just no access. The Chowilla Game Reserve or Biosphere bordered the southern side of our road. Over 17,000 ha of Murray River floodplain and wetland stretched away and our passage required a horseshoe shaped route to get around to the other side of it.   

We had planned to be at Wade / White  Corner for Christmas coming via the Old Mail Track on the Victorian side of Murray Darling; instead we had passed through Renmark, taken the Sturt Highway to Paringa and arrived at the Border Cliffs and Old Custom House on the opposite side of the Murray Darling by lunchtime 23 December. Inside the Custom House George learnt we could hire a houseboat or a tinny to enable a visit to the corner! Camping available in Chowilla Biosphere Reserve a hop over the fence! Hearts dropped seeing the small formalised camp ground for $6 a night. Nothing like the wild, beautiful free sites we had gotten used to. However, we were here for a reason and fortunately the place grew on us as we were the only campers. In the face of a chilly wind, not conducive to puttering up river we decided to book the tinny for the morrow. With lunch over, George began a wash down of the rig, collecting water from the river bucket by bucket.

 

Blue air....Bloody flies, bloody mud; can’t believe it can stick so hard in so short a time and be so difficult to remove.         

In the evening we took the Chowilla 4.9km Wetlands Walk through a lovely spectrum of wetland habits hoping to spot the vulnerable Regent Parrot – a beautiful yellow feathered bird that only breeds in hollows of River Red Gums, normally associated with the flood plains of the Murray. Scott Lebish unwittingly set off a train of discussion – While staying in Happy Valley, Scott had been concerned about the prospect of a tree in the paddock dying as it had  mistletoe attached to a couple of branches. George didn’t think the mistletoe would affect it. Never-the-less Scott was planting new trees with George’s help in case. Here, amongst the many River Red Gums and Black Box trees, George related that conversation as we observed the severity of mistletoe – often, the host tree had dead branches.

Almost ready to leave Getaway and walk across to the Custom House to collect the tinny for a visit to our second Corner when a golf buggy silently drew up at our caravan door. The owner informed George that as he didn’t have a boat license he couldn’t risk allowing us to take the tinny! However, in order not to disappoint he had a man coming to cut the lawns who could possibly take us – whew! That saved the day. Gavin turned out to be a perfect boatman. He lives permanently in a small houseboat with his wife; grew up on the Murray and, he’d worked with the birds of prey at the Territory Wildlife Park, Darwin. We had lots in common, which added to our next little adventure. Wade/ White Corner turned out to be a wee bit more complicated than we’d expected; not simply a post of some description in the middle of the river. This boundary corner makes for an interesting tale given the miscalculations involved and the disputes that arose.  The SA-Vic dispute dates back to 1835 when the region between the coast and the Murray was rapidly being settled by squatters selecting large runs for sheep farming. An accurate border between SA and Vic needed to be defined. The starting point for the border survey was initially established by a surveyor called Tyers – but as the granting of pastoral licences became increasingly difficult, a surveyor named Henry Wade was directed to define the boundary for “police purposes”. He was joined by an assistant surveyor, Edward White, appointed by the SA govt. to act as observer.

After facing much deprivation and hardship the expedition collapsed 250 km from the Murray, forcing SA to proclaim in 1847 the "line as marked on the ground" by Wade should be "deemed and construed" to be the eastern boundary of South Australia. NSW issued a similar proclamation in 1849. (Wade died in 1854). With the survey only partially completed the two colonies agreed surveyor White should complete Wade's line to the Murray as soon as possible. Given the severe nature of the country, White and his party of five were soon in trouble – White’s men deserted him, his horses died and he became lost. Eventually he borrowed a horse at Chowilla station and rode to Adelaide to file his report. As doubts to the accuracy of the Wade-White line grew surveyors Smalley and Todd took up the job in 1868 using more sophisticated equipment. They found that the proclaimed border on the ground was at least 3.6 km to the west of the more accurate measurement of the 141st meridian. This was the beginning of the battle of the Disputed Territory, a bone of contention that was to last for more than forty years and we can only assume it was agreed to leave it as it was! By river the difference between the two posts was approximately 8 km and created a stretch of water regarded as a kind of ‘no-man’s land’. Having Gavin along, increased our understanding of the nature of inter-State rules, regulations and posturing.  Once again we are made aware of the little empires within the country. 

 
 

 

 
Wade/ White Corners! The post was 600 m upriver from the Customs House and Border Cliffs. The other many bends in the river later...

Customs House gives rise to other historical yarns. NSW having claimed the Murray River as part of its colony established Customs Houses at its state borders to impose duties on anything being transported from Victoria  and South Australia  This created much anger within other the other colonies and they retaliated by building their own. In April 1884 a reserve close to the Victorian border was gazetted as Port Murthoo for a South Australia Customs House that for close on twenty years watched over river trade. Federation in 1901 brought an end to Customs Houses and with the advent of rail, riverboat trade severely declined.  By 1904 the Customs Reserve became a station homestead and over coming years radically changed. (New owner renamed it Boundary House and the area Border Cliffs as ‘Murthoo’ considered a rude word in aboriginal language for animal excrement!) In 1967 the State Government bought back the property in anticipation of flooding the low lying area as part of the Chowilla Dam site. Millions of dollars spent on the initial work the plan was suddenly dumped in preference to Dartmouth Dam. Customs House remained deserted until 1973 when the National Trust SA with a renewable lease via their Renmark branch began maintenance. By 1988, a private couple saw potential in Customs House along with the natural stretch of water and with the approval of authorities began to restore and create a business that catered to the tourist and recreational river trade. Changing hands twice more it has continued as a Customs House business running a General Store and houseboat holidays. It is the only company moored between Lock 6 and Wentworth providing 220 river kilometres. Having just done the route between Wentworth and Renmark this must be one of the most unspoilt and sections of navigable water on the Murray.      

All put together made for a very motivating morning doing another Australia States Corner, particularly the two hour tinny trip required to get there. Our first time on the Murray Darling River and we rode in a tinny – how symbolic is that!  We stayed another night in the Chowilla Reserve and returned to the rather beautiful Border Cliffs on foot as our Christmas Eve treat, with nature giving us a particularly pretty display of lighting as the sun set.  .

“Memory is a painter: it paints pictures of the day”

CHRISTMAS DAY: A hot day brewing, we pulled out of our section of the Chowilla Game Reserve at Border Cliffs for a return towards Paringa. We had no fresh food at all as a result of strict border regulations and expectations of passing plenty of fruit/Veg stalls within the rich Riverland agricultural land en route to The Corner never came to pass. Nor was there anything available as we travelled south west. It was to be our most frugal Christmas ever!

A roadside sighting of Box Gums all infested with mistletoe gave reason to stop for a photo.

From the tinny we had observed a good example of a River Red Gum infestation of mistletoe. Gavin explained the parasite plant is spread by the Mistletoe bird. After feeding on sticky mistletoe seeds these are excreted and deposited on gum tree branches. He too wasn’t convinced the parasitic plant was fatal to the host gum. Our roadside stop provided examples of some trees looking stressed but not others so we are yet to draw a conclusion.

With the prospect of camping at Murtho Forest Landing beside the river we stopped at Heading Lookout at the entrance. In the car park a vehicle. A lone soul appeared to have camped overnight.  Up at the Lookout Tower we were taken aback by picnic mess scattered at the base of the tower – all looked fresh! 

A view from the Tower at Heading Lookout.   

Returning to the rig, an irate bloke shot out of the lone car asking what we thought of the disgusting mess! Angrily he reported two carloads of Middle Eastern fellows turning up late last night with boom box blaring forth to party on the headland until 4.30 a.m. with no regard to him or the houseboats below on the river, hence his crankiness. He reported the small camp ground as being cheek by jowl hence he had stopped there for the night. We gave it a miss and ended up at Paruna Comfort Stop, a tiny little caravan park in Paruna, out of signal and in dry mallee country with a steadily climbing temperature that reached high thirties. The little settlement appeared locked up and deserted and we had to laugh at our Christmas! However, we had the ‘Comfort Stop’ to ourselves for $10 in an honesty box giving us power, and a unisex ablution block (the only shower locked). The day passed peacefully with a few birds glad of a drink from a leaky tap.(A truck with roof tent rolled in next to us at dark).

No sign of life in the settlements ahead that we ended up at Murray Bridge a day ahead of schedule. Just as well, as it gave us more time to get ourselves sorted. Murray Bridge is to be our jump off for our next two adventures. We have decided to load this blog earlier as we are booked on an evening ferry to Kangaroo Island on the 28^th December. Return unsure!