A 2m high tide meant conditions were good for exploration into the depths of the Bermagui River mangroves.
We set of about 30 mins before high tide at the entrance to take advantage of high water on our quest to discover hidden leads through the mangrove forests.
The first foray was into the wetlands which we have done before. Once back on the river we crossed to the northern side and paddled up the inside of the oyster lease. Our second foray looked promising but was a bust.
After paddling up the river for a way our third adventure began and this one was a winner and with relative ease we managed to navigate round the whole, previously unexplored, lagoon. It's always exciting to paddle new water.
Returning to the river we crossed to the south to explore what looked like a promising lead to the hidden lake. This attempt was short lived, the way being blocked by loads of timber washed in. A little further up we found a much less promising lead. Doubting it would lead anywhere we headed in. Even with the 2m tide it was very shallow.
With lots of ducking and twisting and turning we kept making progress toward the shoreline where there is usually deeper water. Once there we found the next obstacles - fallen trees. Most we managed to scrape over or get around. There was one tho' that proved impassable and it was either go back or get out and heave the boats over the trunk. L chose the latter, only to discover a whole lot of branches needed clearing on the other side to enable us to get through. 20mins or so later we were back on the water heaving and jerking ourselves over the semi submerged branches L hadn't been able to move until we reached relatively clear water.
After that little experience we encountered what seemed only minor inconveniences on the remaining 200metres or so until we emerged into the lake. After a quick paddle round the lake we stop for a break before heading back out to the river and catching a ride back down the river on the now outgoing tide.
Passing the start of the wetlands we saw people on the beach which only a few hours earlier we had paddled over with ease.
Back in Bermagui the water was busy; tinnies, stand up paddleboarders, a jet ski, swimmers and fisherfolk. We were amazed that we'd had the river to ourselves only a little further upstream.
A paddle on the Far South Coast's most beautiful lagoon was long overdue.
The reason for this is that with members of the CKC being an aged bunch, in various stages of decrepitude, it is a wearisome task to haul the loaded kayaks from the car park to the water and nearly heart attack inducing to get them back again.
However with a high tide of 1.8m at 12.18pm and good weather we decided it was an opportunity not to be missed.
We arrived at the carpark about 10.10 and finally launched onto the crystalline waters of the lagoon close to 11.30am.
As you will see in the video, we first headed out to the entrance and then made our way up the lagoon.
As we paddled a sea mist wafted in; a most unusual phenomenon in the middle of day. Apparently it is caused by the water further out to sea being warmer than the water along the coast. It was quite eerie at times.
With the 1.8m tide we got right up and under the bridge over the Bermagui/Tathra Rd, only to be stopped from going further by the adjoining landowners fence. Even up there the water was still crystal clear. We then paddled back down to a little cove opposite the entrance where we stopped for lunch and watched the world float by on the now outgoing tide.
Having put off the inevitable long enough, we packed up and paddle the short distance back to the take out and began the arduous task of getting the boats back to the carpark. Absolutely stuffed by the time we were ready to depart, for awhile we drove in silence. However once somewhat recovered talk began and we spoke of the glorious, partly otherworldly paddle we'd had on Nelson's Lagoon.
Trip Notes:
High tide at entrance: 12.18pm 1.8m
Put In/Take Out: Nelson's Lagoon Carpark & 336m kayak carry/drag along sandy walking track to put in.
Yesterday the elements aligned - a 1.8m tide at 9.29am, a light easterly breeze rising slightly later in the day (to assist us back up the river on the outgoing tide) and a clear sunny 23c day. Near perfect conditions to kayak The Murrah.
Upon arrival at the bridge we found two vehicles and trailers; we weren't the only ones taking the opportunity to get out on the Murrah.
Having launched at 9.30am on the incoming tide we found just enough clearance on the left hand side to enable clear passage until the water deepened at the 1st bend.
Meandering down the river we met a fellow kayaker and stopped for a quick chat before continuing on. Once we had very cautiously negotiated the oyster strewn rocky section we checked out the entrance before R called for a tiffin break.
Shortly thereafter we pulled into a little beach with shade at one end. There we had some tea and cake and in R's case breakfast and cake. L launched the drone and captured, as you will see, some lovely footage of The Murrah entrance.
By the time we were ready to return to the water the tide had turned so once back in the kayaks we headed across the shallows to the deeper water on the other side of the inlet. From there we paddled slowly back up river. Along the way we encountered a couple of kayakers coming downstream. They were on a road trip, heading north and paddling some the beautiful inlets, lakes and rivers that abound along this stretch of the coast.
Shortly thereafter we encountered a bloke in a tinny and he imparted a bit of possibly useful information - The tide has to be at least 1.4m to enable him to launch from the bridge and he has to be back at the bridge a couple of hours after high tide at the entrance. I should have asked, in relation to the tide, what time he had to launch.
Another stop was called for, this time for lunch. As we sat enjoying ourselves another couple, this time in a double kayak went past heading downstream and then another kayaker came back upstream - we've never seen the river hosting so many people.
L launched the drone again and soon after began madly swearing. Turns out he'd forgotten to change the battery and the warning bleep had started. All was well, he managed to get it back in the nick of time. Left a shaken man by the near disaster R and I, politely ignoring the self deprecating mutterings coming from beside us, watched the river flow by a while longer until L recovered his usual insouciant disposition.
Then all that remained was a short 1km or so paddle back to the bridge and thus the end of our (mostly) restful and soul nourishing outing on The Murrah.
Here is the video link:
Trip Notes:
High tide at entrance: 9.29am 1.8m
Put In/Take Out: Murrah River Bridge, Tathra-Bermagui Rd
We are still dealing with the after affects of last year's bushfire and were feeling rather drear when I happened upon a discounted offer for a stay on Barunguba/Montague Island. After a very brief discussion with L that amounted to 'want to stay on Montague' and receiving an affirmative I searched the available dates and found 4 days bang in the middle of the whale watching season. Yipee.
So, with our oldest friends gathered we set off on Monday morning bound for Narooma and the charter boat that would transport us to the island 9km offshore. Being an island we had to take all the food supplies we would need plus an extra 72 hours worth in case bad weather prevented pick up. We endeavoured to pack light, but still had two cars loaded to the gunnels with gear.
Arriving at Montague Islands Adventures a little early we found the boat shed locked up and we girls looked with misgiving at the little boat tied to the jetty that was about the size of this one.
During a quick call to the company to confirm our arrival we were relieved to be told that the boat taking us out to the island was a much larger and was on its way back from an early morning trip to the island.
Soon enough the boat motored into view and we were busy unloading the cars then loading the boat. Once underway life jackets, compulsory wearing when crossing the bar, were handed out along with verbal instructions. At the entrance the skipper loitered a moment or two then, to use a narrowboat term, gave it some wellie and out the boat surged over a couple of swells and that was it - we were over the bar and life jackets could be removed.
Not far from shore we encountered a mother and calf indulging in a bit of tail slapping and
fin flapping.
Leaving them to it, we continued on,
the hardy among us enjoying the ride.
Nearing the island.
The buggy and trailer filled with our gear. The ranger called for two volunteers to ride with him to help unload our luggage. GT & L were nominated whilst the rest of us
enjoyed the view, before beginning the walk up to the cottages.
Phew, the end is in sight - the walk had now turned into a trudge - for some of us.
By the time I staggered in KT and G had half the food unpacked and stowed away and it was time for a talk from Ranger, Kel, about the do's and don'ts whilst on the island. After which the soup and rolls were hurriedly unearthed, heated and eaten as we had a rendezvous with guide, Peter, for a tour of the lighthouse and island.
From the top of the lighthouse, looking north
and south.
Looking at the eastern side of the gut from the remains of a WW2 submarine tracking station.
Dancing seagulls on the old helicopter pad below the cottages.
Looking north to the lighthouse from the cemetery.
At the end of the tour, replete with Barunguba's history and information on the wildlife we retired to the verandah to meet our nearest neighbours - a colony of Crested Terns nesting in front of the cottages.
We were soon to see our first sight of nature in the raw that Kel had warned us about. A Raven landed on the edge of the colony, selected a tern and attacked it until it left its egg exposed. The attack attracted some seagulls who joined the fray trying to steal the egg before the Raven got it. Over our time on the island we witnessed the Raven/s stealing 4 to 5 eggs a day and guestimated it was getting at least 10 eggs a day - a serious depredation on a little colony.
Eventually the cold wind drove us inside and it was time to prepare the first of the delish repasts prepared by KT, GT & G. KT and G had twigged a few weeks prior to our trip that there was no room in my head for catering - bushfire brain fog I call it - and they quietly planned and undertook most of the catering giving me a very small and simple list of provisions to provide. Many thanks gals.
The next day set the rhythm for the rest of our stay. Starting off with a huge bowl of fresh fruit salad prepared by GT we had a leisurely breakfast followed by a walk. This one was down toward the southern end of the island and a visit to the old jetty to watch the seals lolling about on the rocks and in the water.
This young seal was very curious and much taken with KT.
Also seen on the rocks, you can just make them out, were a pair of Sooty Oyster Catchers,
Then it was back to the cottage for lunch, some more bird watching from the verandah and later in the afternoon another walk, this time to the old vegie garden to empty the compost bin, more seal watching, but this time we were the ones doing the lolling about on rocks.
Returning back up what we dubbed Squawk Alley, passed the huge granite boulder from which the stone blocks for the lighthouse was hewn.
The view across the courtyard late that night.
Wednesday. Post breakfast bird watching whilst keeping an eye out for whales.
The Raven was not the only predator taking advantage of the bounty. In the distance we could see, at different times, a Black Shouldered Kite, a pair of Sea Eagles and Kites (Whistling?) and a pair of unidentified chocolate brown raptors bigger than the Black Shouldered Kite and smaller than the Whistling Kite.
The BS Kite would hover whilst the others soared and circled quite high over head before diving down out of view sometimes reappearing with a something white clutched in their talons; too far away to tell whether a tern or gull.
After dumping the compost, another walk toward the gut.
Returning to the path to the vegie garden, before
heading uphill and running the Squawk Alley gauntlet once more.
A seagulls nest - most of the nests were on the edge of the path, causing consternation and panic whenever we walked passed.
After lunch, another walk to the southern end of the island
Looking across to Gulaga.
and returning by the 'easy' route below the cottages.
Then that evening another walk, this time down to the jetty to watch the fairy penguins come in and return to their burrows.
Thursday. After a morning visit to the vegie garden, wraps and drinks were prepared and we strolled down to the picnic table at the old jetty for lunch while while watching the seals cavort in the water.
The pair of gulls who resided in the courtyard and proved to be the noisiest neighbours of all. Regularly squawking loudly and seeing off other gull intruders and loudly protesting whenever one of us visited the bathroom.
Excited by the thought of seeing the most super, super moon of the year we planned an early dinner so we could watch it rise. Just like Halley's Comet back in the 80's? it proved to be something of a disappointment. Unseen by us there was a low cloud layer on the horizon and so we didn't spot it until it had risen a ways and although larger than normal it was somewhat insipid and pale rather than the glowing orange ball we had all envisaged.
However Friday morning's sunrise made up for the Super Moon's lack of colour.
Friday was a bonus. On Wednesday arvo Jason from the Parks Office in Narooma had rung to say that they would not be able to take us off the island on Friday as scheduled and gave us the choice of leaving Thursday or Saturday. Even KT & GT, who had a tight deadline opted for an early departure on Saturday.
Though Friday started out a bit glum (one of the courtyard seagulls; the nest is under the pile of metal and orange buoy behind the table),
it turned into a sunny, tho' windy day and beside the daily trip to the vegie garden we paid the cemetary another visit.
That evening there was a spectacular double rainbow.
The Crested Terns sit facing into the wind.
Saturday. Having been told to be ready for luggage pick up at 7.30am everyone was up early.
7.30am went by and we were told 8.30; 8.30 went by and we were told 9.30. As 9.30 went by and having been told 11.30 we unpacked some of the food boxes and eskys to retrieve the makings for breakfast and coffee, then there was time for one last walk to the compost bin.
A little after 11.30am the buggy arrived for the luggage and we walked down to the jetty for the last time.
Soon a boat appeared loaded with a group from the Bondi Diving Club who had spent the last couple of hours diving off the northern end of the island. Somehow our group and gear were squeezed aboard.
Departing the island
Back on the mainland. Having returned with a different boat charter company, Helen from the Parks office was waiting to drive GT and L to the other side of the inlet where we had left the cars. Meanwhile the rest of us unloaded our gear and sorted it into two piles.
KT and GT, running way behind schedule, left immediately to return to South Gippsland and the rest of us visited the Oyster Farmer's Daughter for a late lunch and more nattering before returning home.
Lastly, a bit of footage of the seals and the Raven harassing the Crested Tern colony.
Photos courtesy of KT and G.
Whilst Green Cape is better situated for whale watching, Barunguba/Montague is an exceptionally beguiling and immersive experience and we are already talking about a return visit next year.
As a gusty wind change was forecast for 1.00pm we planned to be up at the confluence to sit it out while we lunched.
Setting off at 10.10am we headed upstream and took various routes through the mangroves before crossing the river to sneak up behind the oyster leases.
Once past the campground we had the river to ourselves as we cruised up to the confluence. There we had a quick leg stretch before heading up Nutleys Creek.
No kingfishers today however we spotted two immature Sea Eagles flying down the creek and landing in a tree not far ahead. Fish spotting was the go today - as we disturbed heaps of schools on our journey up and down the creek.
A 1.8m high tide allowed us to venture far up the enchanting Nutleys Creek.
A bit of chaos as we made the turn to head back down the creek.
During lunch back at the confluence, we had the rare privilege of seeing a Pardalote fly in and out of its nest several times. Each time it flew in like a rocket, would stall at the last second, tuck it wings in tight and dive into the hole without landing.
Nest entrance
We set off back down river as the gusty winds of the change slackened off, being ably assisted by the now outgoing tide.
Back down river various routes were once again taken, some less hazardous than others. Regrouping, we paddled the last couple of kilometres, ending the outing at 3.25pm
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