Yesterday the temperature barely dropped until the middle of the night. After dinner we decided to walk the few metres along to the ferry ramp, watched the full ferry travel across to Mannum and back, and then decided to do that ourselves, on foot. Usually when one travels on a ferry, unless it is one such as plies Cook Strait, you are required to remain inside your vehicle. So it was a delightful treat to be able to stand on the deck and enjoy the sight of the water sliding by and see the river’s edge views clearly. Alas the river, murky and sluggish here at Mannum even more so than further upstream, was even more pungent riding upon it.
 |
| Sunset on the ferry crossing at Mannum |
Once across, we wandered up the main street, admiring the old buildings, the houseboats moored along the foreshore and observing the buzz of the restaurant and bar clientele. At 7.30 pm, it was still very hot, and most people about were in scant leisure wear with thongs on their feet. We were no better dressed ourselves, not having intended such an outing. A drink did seem a good idea, and so we bought soft drinks from the Foodland superette that was still open, then sat on a bench outside the shop and greeted fellow shoppers dashing in and out for last minute items. After about an hour, we returned to the ferry approach, but again sat on a park bench, listening to the hundreds of galahs preparing for their night, above us in the large gum trees. Finally, as the sun was about to disappear below the horizon, we boarded on foot once again and returned to the caravan. The temperature had dropped to about 34 degrees. To avoid the prospect of any mosquitoes or other gregarious bugs, we sat in the dark until the ferry traffic had thinned out, the birds (all but a boobook owl) had settled and went to bed early. Chris was particularly pleased to do so after his late night vigil, having stayed up until 1.30 am on fire watch after all the fireworks.
This morning we were up very early and away from our riverside camp, travelling further down the eastern side of the Murray River, crossing over to Murray Bridge on the original bridge constructed in 1879. In fact until 1979, it was the only bridge on this lower part of the river. The construction of the freeway through from Adelaide brought a smart new bridge and a bypass south of this town of now about 18,000 people.
We hunted out the Coles Express Shell Service Station but it was manned only by a security guard who was growing tired of telling all would be customers the place was out of action due to an electrical fault. Fortunately there was a Woolworths Caltex just down the road which was able to honour our Woolworths discount voucher. We proceeded to the dump and did the business as well as topping the tanks up with water, but all under strange conditions. The day had dawned as hot if not hotter than yesterday, and the wind, perhaps blowing at 40 kph was even warmer than the already 40 degree ambient temperature.
From there we parked down at the river reserve and walked back up the hill to the town, along the main street almost deserted and calling in to the very smart new shopping centre. Little was open there either but we did manage to pick up a few odds and ends from Big W, Woolworths and The Reject Shop. (There is always somewhere to spend one’s money!) And more importantly, there was air-conditioning to luxuriate in. Back by the river, we watched a large paddle steamer leave loaded with tourists. Apparently just up from the wharf, there are twenty nine sunken paddle steamers, at depths ranging from 8 to 18 metres.
We continued on our way down river, arriving at Tailem Bend about midday. This settlement has a population of about 1,500 and is the centre for the grain growing that goes on about the region. Tall grain silos stand beside the railway, close to where we parked up to have our lunch. It is also the cross roads of several highways and is more functional than beautiful.
From here we joined the Princes Highway, meeting many hundreds of holiday makers all returning to Adelaide, or the like, for work tomorrow. It reminded us of the times we have returned to Whangarei from Auckland or beyond on a Sunday afternoon and been glad we were travelling in the better direction as we came upon miles and miles of congested traffic. Today there was certainly a feeling of deja vue.
We had considered Meningie, on the shores of Lake Albert, as a place to stop and stay, but it was still very early. The local Lions Club was doing a “driver reviver” mission on the waterfront reserve and many motorists were making the most of the free coffee. As a result this tiny town was very busy and finding a park all looked a bit hard. We carried on through.
The landscape about here and further on, to the east of the road which otherwise follows the shores of Lake Albert and then the Coorong, is quite flat or of gentle rolling farmland, some cultivated in cereal grains but mainly grazing beef cattle and a few sheep. The cattle down in this part of the world are more of the garden variety; Angus or Hereford rather than the more exotic Brahmin crosses we saw in Queensland and back down through the centre. As so often happens, one does spot the odd gathering of emus sharing the same landscape; these always delight, no matter how many times we see them.
There were other rest areas and quite a few camps available in the Coorong National Park where we could have stopped and set up camp, however we decided that with the temperatures so high, it was more comfortable to be travelling in air-conditioning rather than sitting the afternoon out expiring in the heat. And so we came on down further.
I have spoken of the Coorong and the National Park of the same name before, when we toured the Fleurieu Peninsula. The Coorong is the name for the two lagoons stretching along this shore for about 110 kilometres, like an inland waterway. Much of the expanse is narrow wetlands, with a maximum depth of three metres and during the summer, the southern eleven to thirteen kilometres become dry. The water that fills these lagoons is that which has flowed down through the whole Murray–Darling system, including that which flowed past our camp on the cotton farm in the McIntyre River and a mix of sea water than manages to enter through the Murray River. We can vouch that this same water runs the length of the Coorong, because we recognised the stench from our last few days on the Murray. Chris, with his particularly refined sense of smell, did not wish to stay anywhere near, having had enough with the river proper.
But we did call in to the National Park at Jack’s Point and walk out to the bird hide constructed primarily for watching breeding pelicans. We have delighted in these wonderful creatures all along the Murray. At Ramco, where we spent two nights, there were many on the lagoon, and we have frequently seen them flying in flocks high above. Today we could see them far in the distance on several islands they have chosen to breed on. Here in the Coorong, is a collection of small islands, no higher than six metres above sea level, where the Australian pelicans have been breeding for years. Interpretative panels describe the habits and life of these rather amazing birds and we read them with interest.
The Pelican Islands make an ideal location for breeding birds from which to fly, gain height and set off for fishing grounds. Freshwater fish washed through the barrages that separate the Coorong from Lake Alexandrina are stunned by saline water and become easy prey for water birds, including of course, the pelicans. As an aside, Australian pelicans have been known to become cannibalistic, feeding on small live young pelicans in unguarded nests.
Pelicans lay two eggs and both parents share the incubation which lasts about thirty five days. When the birds hatch, they are often called “pinkies”, are naked (of course) and look like skinned rats. They weight about 100 grams and require 29 grams of food, the equivalent of one pilchard a day.
When the birds are just twenty five days old, they are called “downies” and are left alone at times during the day and leave the nest to form a crèche of up to thirty other “downies”. At about this time, they weight about four kilograms and require almost half a kilo of food or sixteen pilchards a day. Often they will stand in their parents pouched mouth and take the food from the gullet. (That makes me almost want to retch.) They will stay in the crèche until they are able to fly. At about two months, single birds and smaller groups will leave the crèche to walk about or swim for short distances before returning to rest and feed.
At about three months old, the nearly fledgling bird makes its first attempt to fly. When they finally fledge they are about ten kilos heavier than an adult Australian pelican. This is probably because the young are cared for so well and have few opportunities for physical movement until they fledge.
Notices suggested that binoculars were essential to complete the viewing experience, however when we got there, we could see little more than one could with the naked eye. We did see, also without the aid of binoculars, a long slim black snake slithering away from of us as we left the vehicle. This made us wary of any others that might be lurking along the pathway through the scrub to the point.
We resumed our way on down toward Kingston SE (this is always noted in the literature and on maps with the SE to differentiate from any other Kingstons in South Australia of which there are several.) Twenty kilometres further and we turned toward the sea, heading north again and following the road in to The Granites. This was shown in our bibles as a good camp and again came with recommendation of Bob and Ann, although we had no idea what to expect. If anything, I was visualising some rocky bush camp; instead it is on the sand dunes, above a wild sea coast. The Granites are a few large rounded rocks littered across the tidal sands, much in the same vein as the Boulders near New Zealand’s Oamaru, but fewer and more modest. We are parked on a large sealed car park, along with one other caravan who arrived after us.
We thought ourselves to be alone, until we climbed the lookout platform and saw more than a dozen four wheel drive vehicles down on the beach, their occupants either surf casting or swimming. The beach is expansive and lends itself to such activities and we do believe that there is currently a fishing contest being held, hence the multitudes, who have now mostly headed off home, probably to Kingston, which we will reach tomorrow. In the meantime, the winds have changed and the temperatures have dropped to a very comfortable 24 degrees. There are warnings in place all around this coast and across the border in Victoria; grass fires have been raging about and there are likely to be more. We shall take care for sure.
No comments:
Post a Comment