There are small winding tracks, straight ones, those that could only be walked, others which a large truck could traverse but all with the same point - going somewhere. All on the river with its scenic grandeur poking around every corner.
DOWN BY THE RIVER
Chapter 14 – Mildura & the Houseboat Day 10
On the river the days simply pass. They come and go with the only real worry, being back at the mooring on the designated last day before the appointed time. Whilst there is the outside influence for us of the businesses we run, being on the river surrounded by the majesty of the bush with its calming influence makes it difficult to discern one day from the next. Small business can have the same effect without the upside of the location.
Today is Saturday, not that it matters any, we still have four days left of our time meandering the Murray. Meandering some may not. We really have not gone far from Mildura, perhaps a kilometre or so past Trentham Estates and all manner of stops in between. We could have ventures so much further but in essence what we are doing is what we were aiming to do – get away from the rat race of the rut of our business lives.
No matter where we go on the river there are Carp to catch, although where we are, presently moored to the bank, they have quite the advantage with the snags providing all sorts of protection. But still the number climbs and now and again other species come from the depths. Catfish, Bream and Yellow Belly (Golden Perch) all make an appearance. Here they all go back not just because of the size but because they are a protected species.
I have never caught a Murray Cod and although we set the lines at night with all sorts of baits, we have been unable to entice one now either. On our last trip back to civilization there was talk of Redfin (another introduced pest but much better eating that the European Carp) were prevalent in an area not far from where we are moored. Might be worth a walk in the bush today and see if we can rustle up something that might be able to grace the table.
If nothing else the walk will be the adventure.
Breakfast over with early, there are business loose ends to attend to, even though its the weekend, but not many and its not long before we are off the houseboat and exploring.
Along this part of the river there are many tracks. Some ferry vanners into places other simply movement thoroughfares from here to there. Given the information we have been given about the potential for redfin, we are off down a well worn track in search of a somewhat elusive table fish – especially on this trip.
There are many places to stop and sit sling here and at times we do just that, not being in a hurry to be anywhere just taking it in. Although I have a rod and a pocket full of bait and tackle, if we use them or not is not a priority. Simply taking in the bush, the river, the wildlife and all the wonders Mother Nature has to offer are the treat for the day.
We find the “spot” but are not real;ly engaged in throwing a line as it has become the furthest point of the walk and after simply sitting and taking it all in, we commence the wall back. No bait or tackle lost, no fish fed either. The serenity of the bush is everything and all that it needs to be for us at this moment. The rain has kept the dust down and the bush green, without being overgrown. Its dry but everything is thriving for now.
This place, like most of Australia, can change very quickly. We laugh at the concept of Melbourne having four season in one day and whilst it may not be as quick to change here the starkness of the difference between today, times of drought and/or flood are mind blowing to conceive.
For now the river is slightly up. Recent rains, both here and in the catchment mean flows into this part of the world, stunted by locks and other impediments to the “normal” flow are being managed. The diverseness of the river means a monsoon in the lower half of Queensland could mean flooding here a few weeks later as the water flows along this mighty river. Conversely the flow of the river can be stopped in dryer seasons by the irrigators taking much of the lifeline out before it gets here.
The management of the river has been a source of conjecture for many years. Here we see very few water saving measures as the farmers (and the residents) rely on the river rather than look to conserve any rain that may occur.
Its a food bowl here but generally the water comes from the river rather than the air.
Walking back, I stop to take many Road Gallery pictures. The tracks simply heading into the bush giving inspiration that someone might see something for them in the shots. There are small winding tracks, straight ones, those that could only be walked, others which a large truck could traverse but all with the same point – going somewhere. All on the river with its scenic grandeur poking around every corner.
A scurry in the leaves startles us. A large goanna scurries away and scuttles up a gum tree, where in the sunlight and in full view, can discern the danger we may pose. For me its a chance to capture the animal on film, from a safe distance of course, before it tires of the attention and continues up the tree and out of sight.
Later we catch this animal in the pile of Carp we have left on the bank (it is illegal to return them to the water in Australia) to fertilise the ground ala the Charlie Carp product we often buy for our vegetable garden back home. It’s the only scavenger apparently willing to devour them. I can remember leaving Carp skewered on fence posts in country where pigs and foxes were rife and finding them the next day completely intact although close by the remnant of the feral evil was present.
It was good to see something at least was enjoying the fruits of my labours even if we weren’t.
We continue back along the track to the houseboat. We are apparently the only ones here for miles. The magnificent river all to ourselves.
Back at the houseboat, a quick check of the shrimp net reveals more bait and the war between me and the Carp continues, although this afternoon the tables have turned a little. There are other species hooked, brought to the boat and returned to the water. Catfish and bream all make an appearance. Perhaps the waterway is starting to win.
Having said that the Carp catch keeps rising. What will be the final number?
The disk approaches, dinner needs cooking and consumed and a game of Rummikub is played and played again and again. Our apprentices are now quite adept at the game, and assisted by a glass or two or three of wine “forced” down the throats of their opponents managed to hold their own.
The frivolity of the banter and sledging is joyful. We play well into the night even though the walk has taken its toll somewhat. Perhaps its the adrenalin released through the competition or just the ridiculous banter of the game but it is well past “normal” bed time before we all retire.
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