5 October 2012 - Echuca Holiday Park, Victoria

I woke early to one of the loveliest dawn choruses heard since I have been in Australia, and then fell asleep again; surely the best start to any sort of day. Once up and breakfasted, we set off for a short walk toward the water’s edge and up the reserve to further investigate our camp spot and to greet our neighbours. Their curtains were still firmly drawn, we assumed they were still abed and left them to it, soon heading off the inland island and away from the forest, south toward Cohuna and on down the Murray Valley Highway.

We turned north at Torrumbarry and headed toward the river. The original Torrumbarry Weir and Lock were constructed way back in 1923 and of the kind we saw resting in Mildura; a series of removable steel trestles, able to be winched out of the river to allow floods to pass. This weir and lock combination, as the other twelve on the river, was originally intended to facilitate navigation of the river under all conditions. As I mentioned when we were in South Australia, approval for their construction was given way back in 1919. There were to have been others; Locks 12, 13, 14 and 16 through to 25 were never constructed.

It is true that the bulk of paddle steamer transport had greatly diminished after the rail reached these more isolated spots in Victoria and with the depression of the 1890s, however it never completely died away, and today those same craft ply the water for tourists which bring much business to the regions.

At Torrumbarry, the river still has 1,638 kilometres to flow to the sea, with just eighty six metres to fall. Here the river, as it has been since we reacquainted ourselves with it at Wentworth, is sluggish and the valley, if it can really be so named, wide and seemingly flat. Once the Murray reaches South Australia it flows down through high cliffs, scenes very different from this part of the world.

But back here at Torrumbarry, the weir was in desperate need of repair, with major damage to its foundations indicating deterioration of the aging structure. It happens to everything it seems. The centre beside the river explains through interpretative panels and a series of videos the reconstruction of this modern engineering wonder, the new weir and lock opened in 1996. Standing on the weir the force of water is to be wondered at as well as the intelligence of fish who find their way up the fish staircase to one side.

While we were appreciating all this, who should pull up in the car park and join us but Allan and Lyn. We soon found ourselves standing above the rush of water conversing with raised voices above the noise and before you knew it, it was almost lunchtime. They drove on south east and we decided to have lunch before following suit.

We came upon them again at the Information Centre at Echuca, in search of the museum to celebrate the life of a famous cyclist, born just south of here. Unfortunately for our new friends the museum was still undergoing repair after flood and they were urged to call next time. They suggested it was quite a stretch to pop down from Brisbane just to visit this shrine, however they had discovered that we had all arrived at a very exciting time for Echuca; the Heritage Family Festival with the Sailpast and Fireworks Display all happening tomorrow. After much discussion, Chris and I decided to follow their plans; rather than hunt out the free camp alongside the river, to settle into a caravan park and enjoy the event also.

We had noted the crowds as we had driven through the town and were not surprised to find that most of the caravan parks were full, and those that were not full were charging $50 or more per night. The very helpful staff at the Centre made several phone calls for us and established that this one was charging a mere $35 per night and did for the moment have a vacancy or two. Allan and Lynn had headed off before us to do their research so we had not necessarily expected to find them queuing at the same park gate, but there they were. In fact we are camped either side of the same camp “street”. We spent a couple of hours over coffee under our awning after setting up, chatting, finding by the hour that we have much in common.

We had thought we might spend a couple of days about Echuca, which, with the adjoining New South Wales town across the river, Moama, is considered Australia’s Paddlesteamer Capital. Here in its heyday, many of the paddle steamers which plied the river, were built.

James Maiden established his punt on the northern bank of the river at Moama way back in 1845. In 1853, a rival ex-convict from the same sentencing court of Lancashire, Henry Hopwood set up his business providing the same service on the southern bank, and it is this Hopwood, a receiver of stolen silk goods, who is considered the Father of Echuca.

Tomorrow, as we wander about the port and historical precinct of Echuca, we will no doubt learn all there is to know about this delightful dwelling place of about thirteen thousand people and holidaying place of possibly the same number judging by the throngs today.