Tag Archives: River

Lake Repulse Dam to Catagunya Dam – posting 11 of 13

My first touch with civilisation was a gravel road after I had crossed a challenging fence and stepped between dozens of fresh almost liquid cattle pats (but no cattle in sight).

I followed the road to the river and saw the sturdy bridge. Floods would never sweep that piece of engineering away!

20160210_090638.jpg

20160210_090650.jpg

Would you believe I did not notice the following sign denying pedestrians access until I had walked onto the bridge and then retraced my steps up the gravel road? I later wondered whether the sign meant no access down to the river – and there was none that was safe for me.  The sign was unclear.  It was definitely easy to access the bridge.

20160210_090751.jpg

The views were stupendous from the bridge: maybe one of these will become a background for your computer.

20160210_090923.jpg

20160210_090947.jpg

20160210_091017.jpg

20160210_091046.jpg

I followed the road, and dutifully kept my pace under 20km an hour.

20160210_091755.jpg

 

The complex that makes up Wayatinah – posting 5 of 7

The Florentine River flows into the Derwent River.

Westwards from the Wayatinah Power Station, Andrew and I covered some kilometres of bush, clambering over fallen trees and through a mesh of understorey vegetation.  The marks of mankind were clear despite the absence of tracks; various weeds were flourishing.

20151029_091112.jpg

And through the bush in two different locations a well secured lidded white box sat alone with a surname and phone number written on top.  These were not bee hives and we could not determine their function.

20151029_093657.jpg

Once we had walked further westwards past the meeting of the Florentine River with the Derwent River, the Derwent presented with a low water level and stony river base.

20151029_094042.jpg

20151029_094127.jpg

However there were sections containing more water.

20151029_094048.jpg

Along the way we discovered the remains of an old shed and an ancient water level monitoring system, through which a bush fire had passed.

20151029_101015.jpg 20151029_101039.jpg

20151029_100953.jpg

20151029_101649.jpg

Bits of iron and steel were scattered through the cleared surrounds.

20151029_100936.jpg

20151029_100939.jpg

I loved the way the corrugated iron had been ‘stitched’ with wire to create the building. Very enterprising.

20151029_102240

20151029_102243

Amidst this debris a lone native orchid bloomed.

20151029_103015.jpg

Down next to the river bed, a water level height gauge was marked in imperial measurements, therefore indicating a date before the mid-1960s.

20151029_101155.jpg

20151029_101151.jpg

20151029_101548.jpg

20151029_100933.jpg

20151029_101745.jpg

We wondered what sort of electronic or satellite related devices and measurement tools were used these days.

I found this trackless walk to be very hard going (at the pace Andrew set) because negotiating the bush took thought and time.  I reflected on the challenges this section would pose if I had been carrying a full backpack.

Michelle’s aerial view gives an idea of the dense bush on the top side of the River where we walked.

PA280093Florentine & derwent intersection.JPG

The complex that makes up Wayatinah – posting 2 of 7

Wayatinah Lagoon

Having taken a turn off Long Spur Road, Andrew and I were the only visitors to this misted expanse of water on the 29 October 2015, the characteristics of which were almost total silence and an immense sense of quiet peacefulness.  I felt privileged to stand in such a serene environment, and smell the clean fresh air.

20151029_084702 Liapootah PS on hill in distance.jpg 20151029_084713.jpg 20151029_084742.jpg 20151029_084845.jpg

Watch the video.

A boat ramp, away from the infrastructure that accepts the water to be transported to the Wayatinah Power Station, ensures the safety of anglers from any unexpected water level changes.

20151029_084906.jpg 20151029_084829.jpg

Michelle’s aerial photo below gives some indication of the size of this Lagoon, and the way the river bed snakes away from it amidst dense vegetation heading towards Hobart.

PA280095 Wayatinah Lagoon.JPG

Out on the Farm

On the last day of October 2015, I walked along the river edge (part of Meadowbank Lake) and mostly on the property of Curringa Farm.  I am most appreciative for Tim and Jane Parsons allowing me to walk there.

Their Farm is home to thousands of sheep.

20151031_111536

While I walked along approximately 4km of the river’s edge towards where the Clyde River entering the Lake, my friend Alex waited. As she sat in the car reading newspapers and drinking tea from her thermos, the wonderful view down to the ‘river’ as shown below was hers to savour.  In fact this waterway is one part of the very long Meadowbank Lake through which the Derwent River flows. One of Alex’s photos is shown below.

20151031_121223 Curringa Farm

While I walked, the Lake was busy with jet boats and water skiers. Watch this video.

As usual, the water and the river’s edge landscape enthralled me.

20151031_113507 20151031_114212.jpg 20151031_114403.jpg 20151031_115053.jpg

When I walk alone I hear and see things which are not usually available if I walk with another. That is, the talking or the crashing through the bush disturbs birds and animals and they disappear.  During this walk, when a Rufus wallaby was suddenly standing before me a few metres away, we were both surprised. The bush was so quiet and I must have been making foot noises which sounded like normal bush rustlings so that s/he wasn’t immediately aware of my presence.  Eventually s/he hopped off to watch me from some bushes in the distance. I hadn’t moved a muscle since we first eyeballed each other.  But after its bounce away, my eyes swivelled to focus on a movement on the hill above. Down hopped a small wallaby and on the crest his/her mother appeared.  The following video shows them almost camouflaged in the environment. I feel sure you will not find the smaller baby wallaby until it moves again.

Watch this video.

Through the undergrowth, many well ‘walked’ tiny tracks were visible but on closer inspection they seemed to be wallaby highways.

20151031_114746.jpg Clever animals – they had been able to gradually force up fences in order to continue moving through paddocks. If you study the photograph below, on the lower right hand side you can see the wire mesh fence has been raised by rounding it up from the ground.

20151031_115247.jpg

Substantial sandstone/mudstone rocks intruded at the water’s edge and as cliffs formed hillsides and cave-type overhangs.  I wonder if the original inhabitants of the land rested in some of these places.

20151031_114531.jpg 20151031_115236.jpg 20151031_120846.jpg 20151031_120907.jpg

The next selection of photos shows a couple of examples of the profusion of bush flowers seen during this walk: I cannot identify the first but the second is a tiny native orchid.

20151031_120549.jpg

20151031_115144.jpg

Generally the bush was extremely dry, so much so that the lichen growing on rocks was shrivelled and seemingly dead.

20151031_120755.jpg

Parts of the Derwent Valley have received so little rain over winter that there is insufficient vegetation coverage for the cattle and sheep to eat in the coming months.  Apparently many farmers will be selling their sheep soon before the animals lose their good condition.  It is so challenging to work on the land.  It will be so challenging for city dwellers wanting to eat lamb in a few months’ time – a few gold ingots might be needed to make a purchase.

Nevertheless, it is a beautiful part of the world.

20151031_120901.jpg 20151031_123826.jpg

Dangerous rivers

The Derwent is ranked No.8 in the country’s top 10 most dangerous inland waterways, with 12 victims since 2001,’ said David Beniuk in his article “Don’t run the risk in rivers”, published in The Sunday Tasmanian yesterday.

He explained that ‘Tasmanians are being reminded of the dangers of their beautiful, but potentially deadly rivers in a national campaign.’

The Royal Life Saving Society says ‘We are a state that absolutely loves our waterways … But our inland waterways, in terms of drowning fatalities, are really where it’s happening in Tasmania. The perception is that the still waters of a river are calm and are safe. But it’s what we don’t see and don’t know, things like ice cold water, snags, things like tree branches as well as river currents, that often get people without notice.’

Beniuk reports that ‘The state registered the highest per capita rate in the country, with men over 55 at risk.’  He noted a number of things we can do which offer protection: ‘wearing a regularly serviced life jacket, avoiding alcohol, never swimming alone, knowing the area, telling people where and when you’re going and learning first aid.’ In addition, ‘checking weather conditions and the Maritime and Safety Tasmania website were also important.’

This article was timely; over the weekend a friend urged me to stay with my decision not to canoe/kayak down the Derwent River.  As I mentioned in a recent post, a strong fit male family friend canoed down a short section and had never been so frightened.  I got the message then.

Ferries on the Derwent River

D.G. O’May authored Ferries of the Derwent A History of the Ferry Services on the Derwent River in 1988.

Ferries of the Derwent by Dave OMay book cover

The O’May family is well known for their connection with the maritime history of the Derwent River over many decades.  The chapters of the book cover different aspects of the ferries that travelled across and up and down the river, and many old photographs of ferries, key people and historic documentation including licenses have been reproduced.

Possible locations where the Derwent River can be ‘touched’

I have compiled a list of those locations where I believe, with a vehicle, it will be possible to ‘touch’ the Derwent River occasionally along its length between Gretna and Lake St Clair.  Please let me know if any section listed below takes your fancy and if you would be interested to try it out.

Almost all sections include driving on bitumen highway, gravel roads and poor tracks. Some of these may be forestry roads.  If you wish to volunteer to take me to one of these sections (let me know on walkingthederwent@gmail.com), please feel comfortable that your car can handle the different conditions.  Of course, common sense will prevail and we will never push on if a road is too rough for your vehicle and your peace of mind.

If you are happy to help me reach my goal, albeit differently than originally expected, I would like to fill up your tank with petrol as some compensation.  You know my ‘walking the Derwent’ is a non-commercial project, but since I do not own a car nor drive, I need transport – and therefore, I am happy to cover the cost.

  1. On eastern shore – From New Norfolk drive along the Lyell Highway and then, not far past Gretna’s Sports ground, take a left turn into Clarendon Road and drive to farmstead buildings about 250 metres from the river on a hill. Perhaps 140km return trip.
  2. On western shore – From New Norfolk drive along Glenora Road, and turn left at Bushy Park then right onto Meadowbank Road over the Tyenna River then next to Derwent, then on over Meadowbank Creek to a hill top with buildings. It may be possible to continue quite a way on this road. Minimum 130 and maybe up to 160kms return trip
  3. On eastern shore – From New Norfolk drive along the Lyell Highway and turn left off the Highway onto Meadowbank Dam Road. Continue to dam and southern end of Meadowbank Lake. At least 170 kms for round trip.
  4. On western shore – Travel from New Norfolk and turn left into Gordon River Road at Bushy Park, then turn right off Gordon River Rd into Ellendale Rd and then right onto Rockmount Road before you reach the township of Ellendale. There seem to be many dirt forestry tracks to Meadowbank Lake. At least 170kms return trip and maybe 200kms return or more depending on roads.
  5. On western shore – Travel from New Norfolk and turn left into Gordon River Road at Bushy Park, then turn right off Gordon River Rd into Ellendale Rd and drive on through the township of Ellendale until you reach Dawson Rd / Dunrobin bridge over Meadowbank Lake. Turn left before bridge and it seems we can drive 2kms further up along the Lake edge. Return to Ellendale Road, cross bridge and connect with the Lyell Highway. At least 170kms return trip and maybe 200kms return or more depending on roads.
  6. On eastern shore – From New Norfolk drive up Lyell Highway and continue past the left turn off to Dunrobin bridge and afterwards and to the left there are a number of dirt tracks seemingly without gates. After a while these tracks/roads only extend to the Ouse River and not the Derwent River so map consultation is crucial. At least 180kms return and maybe over 200kms return depending on how many side roads/tracks can be driven along.
  7. On eastern shore – Drive up Lyell Highway past Ouse then turn left at Lake Repulse Road. Continue to intersection with Cluny Lagoon Road and turn left and go to Cluny Dam. Return to intersection and continue on Lake Repulse Road to the Repulse Dam. Can cross a bridge and continue back south around Cluny Lagoon to a ‘settlement’ named Cluny.  Perhaps could access this road from the Ellendale Rd on the western shore? By driving north from Repulse Dam along Dawson Road/then renamed Thunderbolt Road it seems we can take right hand detours to Lake Repulse. Over 200kms maybe 250kms or more minimum round trip.
  8. On eastern shore – Drive up Lyell Highway past Ouse, over the Dee River until the sign appears for a left turn at Catagunya Road. Drive down to Catagunya Dam. 200kms minimum return trip
  9. On eastern shore – Drive up Lyell Highway past Ouse, over the Dee River, past Black Bobs and turn left at Long Spur Road. This runs around Wayatinah Lagoon. Go past the intersection to Wayatinah Dam, turn left and travel to Wayatinah Power Station on Lake Catagunya. Return to intersection and turn left and travel to Wayatinah Dam. Cross bridge and continue on to Wayatinah township. Access dirt tracks in the vicinity of all. Drive south from the Wayatinah Dam on the western shore along the Florentine Road but don’t bother crossing the Florentine River because the road goes inland away from the river. Minimum of 230kms but most likely  at least 300kms round trip.
  10. On eastern shore – Drive up Lyell Highway and when you reach a canal passing under the road, and where the road turns right to go to Tarraleah, go straight ahead on Butlers Gorge Road. Note there are limited roads off and around going closer to the river near that intersection. Continue along Butlers Gorge Road for 10-15 kms heading for Lake King William. Reach Clark Dam and Power Station. Continue onto Switchback Track along side of Lake King William. This track stops and you have to return the same way – swamp separates you from the track north about 500 metres away. This would be a big day and I suggest take overnight accommodation at Tarraleah before setting out. PERHAPS it is possible to walk across the swamp and then walk about 7 kms to Derwent Bridge. Unknown over 300 kms return trip.
  11. On eastern shore – Drive up Lyell Highway to Derwent Bridge and continue past to left hand turn off on the western side of Lake King William and drive the track to the lake. 360 kms return trip minimum.
  12. On eastern shore – Drive up Lyell Highway to Derwent Bridge. Walk from the bridge over the Derwent River near the township of Derwent Bridge to St Clair Dam at the bottom of Lake St Clair Lagoon where the Derwent River starts. Walk to Pump House Point and St Clair Weir at the southern end of the Derwent Basin. 350kms return trip minimum.

 

I guess the beer business is booming

The area is known for its hop growing and apparently the demand is increasing.  On the river banks opposite the Bushy Park Sports Oval, new hop fields were being constructed.

20150918_121359 20150918_121632

Did you spot the snow on the distant mountains in the second photo?

Crossing the Derwent River

In stages over more than the past year, I have walked as near to the Derwent River as I can, and each time I see it up close again I am thrilled. Its scale, its colour, and its texture are always different.  The changing effects of the sky on the water’s surface are fleeting, and I love seeing every view.

On Day two, I had left Bushy Park, crossed the Styx River and was now on my way to the Lyell Highway with a despondent resignation that no more close encounters with the River would be possible this day excepting when I crossed the bridge.

20150918_121005

The bridge was long and offered one lane for traffic and no pedestrian path. This is an area where powerful log trucks, various large transports, farm vehicles, massive four wheel drives, and all manner of smaller cars and motorcycles power along the road.  I considered hitching a ride over the bridge with the intention of travelling across in safety. Thankfully the vehicles do not come in a continuous stream, so I looked for a gap in the traffic.

With an ear to the wind, I listened to hear approaching vehicles. In a moment of quiet I made my ‘run’ for it. Friends would know no running was involved. Rather I stepped out purposefully and as quickly as I could, humping my backpack along with me.

Two thirds of the way across I felt indignant. I wanted to have a look at the river but the fact that it was dangerous to be on the bridge unnerved me. Nevertheless, I glanced around and noticed the magnificence of the views up and down the river. As I readied to take a quick photo I could hear an approaching vehicle.  But I stood my ground.  Then I flattened myself against the bridge railing as a monster dual cab ute whizzed past with the driver glaring at me.  I glared back; I hoped my stony look, backgrounded by thoughts of frustration that walkers were not considered in the bridge design, communicated to him.  I know I know I know. Of course it didn’t. I am sure he simply thought my presence was the impediment to his safe progress.

20150918_121215 20150918_121218

Before long I was off the bridge crossing the Derwent River and heading eastwards to the Lyell Highway.  Getting down to the water was impossible. In this case it was the tangled Blackberry canes that stood in the way.

20150918_121314

The Styx River

In ancient Greece, the Styx was a deity and also a river that formed a boundary between earth and the underworld, and was one which had miraculous powers. In texts such as Dante’s The Divine Comedy, the Styx figures as a metaphor for Hell. I suspect many countries in the world contain a river named the Styx and that for some people, their river connects with Hell or with an earlier characteristic from Greek mythology. There are a number of Styx rivers across Australia.

Tasmania’s Styx river feeds the Derwent when it flows into that River along the edges of the Bushy Park Sports Oval. Our Styx River, a wild one racing through narrow gorges and bristling over rapids in many sections, starts its life in the wilderness near Mount Mueller further west and south of Maydena before travelling past dense ancient forests. I can imagine for our early settlers, the inaccessibility of the river, the rugged surrounding landscape, and the virtual impenetrability of the vegetation would have made this territory seem like hell.  To compound their problems, constant heavy rain falls, cold miserable conditions in winter and fiendishly hot days in summer would have made their lives hell. Yet, over time, the forestry industry found ways near the Styx River to log old-growth forests. Regrettably.

Back to my walk.

20150918_114313

I survived a quick jog over the Styx River road bridge without being mown down by vehicular traffic, and stopped to look at the water rustling beneath.

20150918_114425

I rested nearby to enjoy the sound of the water and the comparatively cool air.

Unpredictable water levels

20150918_102136

This sign is located near Rayners Corner beside Glenora Road on route to Bushy Park.

Years ago a friend and I drove up along the Lyell Highway, and then took a track down to the river somewhere between New Norfolk and Gretna.

We walked across a gravel bed to a rocky scrubby clump edging the water.  For a couple of hours we sat on the river side with our feet swinging above the glossy glassy black racing water of the Derwent River, lulled by the sun. I remember the clear reflections of the dense vegetation on the other side of the river. It was a joy to see fish rising to grab an insect that had been flitting near the water surface. Clouds began to pile up in the distance and around that time I looked down and realised the water was nearly touching my feet. The river’s water level was rising. We clambered back to the other side of this outcrop and discovered, to our horror, a swirling and dramatic pour of water separated us from the river bank. In recent blog postings I have mentioned the speed with which the Derwent River travels towards the sea. That day was my first experience of its dangerous fast moving flows.

The river was rising as we watched. We were stranded on an island and we didn’t know how much water had been released upstream. This meant we didn’t know whether the island would become submerged. Within seconds we knew we had to try our luck and get back to land.

Quickly we cast our eyes around for a couple of suitable branches that could act as walking sticks, as balancing poles, so we could cross the raging torrent.  Each of us started the crossing with a balancing stick. I remember stepping into that cold water and finding how uneven the ground was. It was not a simple gravel bed rather I was trying to walk on irregular sized rocks that rolled when I was pushed onto them by the force of the water. I remember that it was important to tread slowly and to lean my body at an angle towards upstream to counteract the pressure to send me downstream.

When I started the crossing the water level was at the top of my thighs. The distance wasn’t far but the water reached around my waist and splashed higher as I approached the safety of the river bank.  Once out of the water, we felt exhilarated.  But we both knew the danger we had been in.  And similar signs to the one in the photograph above were not around.  Situations like this remind me of the powerful importance of local knowledge.

The quest for water to drink

The road narrowed. The road verges reduced in width. The traffic sped past. Vegetation grew rampantly between the road and the Derwent River. The river poured towards the sea. And I walked, occasionally sipping, and wondered what I would see over each new crest or around each corner.  Would I find accessible water?

20150918_092043 20150918_092225

20150918_092351 20150918_092652

20150918_092537 20150918_093456

A cluster of large rocks and a pull-off area for vehicles alerted me to a new chance to reach water.

20150918_102025

Rayners Corner

At the bottom of the incline, a rocky track was extended into the River with a few rocks – most suitable to fish from. And most suitable from which to fill up a water bottle! This location was on the opposite side of the river from a mapped point known as Rayners Corner (although not showing on Google Maps).

20150918_094258

I sat for a while and soaked in the clean atmosphere.  Looking back down the river I watched the hard glassy flows of the Derwent.

20150918_094313

Then I made a short video scanning the environment.

Marvellous place. Marvellous water.

Near the edge of the Derwent River again

Having farewelled the walking cyclist, I spotted a style built giving anglers access over a fence and at the same time I appreciated a grand curve in the Derwent River down below.

20150918_083251

The views of the river, the paddocks and the sheep were magnificent.

20150918_083343  20150918_083351

20150918_083434 20150918_083811

As usual, continual direct access to the river was impossible.  This time, the very steep and slippery river banks were the greatest impediment.

20150918_083609 20150918_083815

I continued along Glenora Road until I was able to follow a vehicular track to the water.  On the river edge, a large irrigation pump took pride of place. The water was clear. The sun sparkled across the surface. But access to the water was denied me because a steep slippery mudbank, which I did not believe I could climb back up if I slipped down, separated me from that elusive fluid.

20150918_084356

Plentiful

The views are magnificent around the area centred on the township of Plenty in the Derwent Valley, but at this time of the year the deciduous trees are lacking foliage and there is a grey-greening colour across the landscape. The visuals are comparatively dull.

20150917_130947 20150917_131003

20150917_131517 20150917_132400

Reid’s cherry orchards are the backbone of Plenty. Finally I walked around their most western cleared paddocks.

20150917_131701 20150917_131650

I took a last look at the river before heading towards ‘civilisation’, the railway line and the main road.

20150917_132056 20150917_132216

20150917_135225 20150917_135348

20150917_135833 20150917_135829

Sighted near a private home, I thought the densely flowering Magnolia tree, pictured below, was a rich sensual delight.

20150917_140142

When I reached the railway line over the tiny Plenty River, I looked down and listened to the burbling water flowing into the Derwent River.

20150917_140258

The railway line sleepers over the Plenty River were rotten and impossible to walk over safely, so I exited to the main road, crossed the road bridge and then, through the row of trees on the right in the following photo, I entered a new paddock covered in fruit trees.

20150917_140331

I circled an orchard until I could clamber over a broken barbed wire fence that was squeezed between two poplars. Alas – my new jacket suffered a tear in the process.  Beyond was the trainline.

20150917_141506

Around the corner of the railway line as I walked westwards into the distance, I left Plenty.  The day was overcast and gloomy, and I was walking with a heavy heart because access to the river was impossible.

20150917_142545

Fruit trees further than the eye could see

After enjoying the river edge for a short while, I arrived at a demarcation line. From that fence, I could see a tiny portion of 700 acres of cherry orchards before it extended over hills and was lost from my view.  While the fences were impassable an ordinary gate fastener made it easy for me to enter the paddock.

20150917_120701 20150917_120706 20150917_120856

Soon I arrived back at the river edge; in the photo above the river was flowing on the other side of the prominent evergreen tree. After walking a short while, I rested in the deep shadows of a giant wattle tree for a lunch break and enjoyed the smooth rush of the water.

20150917_113621 20150917_122225

This was the property of Reid’s Fruits. The Reid’s family’s website proudly announces they grow ‘undoubtedly the best Tasmanian cherries!’  What I saw were trees still dormant, others beginning to bud and a few showing their first blossom. It will be near Christmas and into the New Year before the bountiful harvests reach our tables and make it overseas.

20150917_124443