Friday 13 September 2019 The Murrah

Loooong time no paddle. So it was with great anticipation and pleasure that we prepared for today's venture. The meet time was 9.00am at the Murrah Bridge, but with no blokes to hold us up (they were variously and otherwise occupied) we were all early.

and by 9.10am we were on our way downstream. S&V were finally able to solve the puzzle of tide being seemingly high at the Murrah Bridge when ever we crossed; having just heard on the grapevine that the mouth was closed - for only the second time in 90 odd years! (it was open when they last paddled the Murrah on the 7th May)

By 9.10am we were on our way downstream.

A couple of pelicans stretching in the morning sun

 Checking us out as we paddle past

We paddled into a bit of a head breeze

from which we were sheltered when we turned into the right hand branch. We were nearly turned back by the shallow stretch about 50 metres into the branch, however we (mainly me) managed with a lot of jerking and poling to scrape our way into deeper water.

Nearly back to the main branch

Back on the river proper

 S&V looking for the perfect spot to stop for morning tea

Just after 10.00am we pulled in to stretch our legs and chew the fat - and the odd sanga and museli bar.

After launching again we decided to see if we could find a way through the shallows and oyster mounds to the sand plug closing the mouth of the Murrah.

And there it is

It will take a major rain event (the likes of which we haven't had for the past three years, but which used to occur at least once a year) to open again.

We retraced our steps and once more picked our path through the rock garden and shallows

to deeper water

We disturbed a whole lots of birds who took to the sky from the sand spit on the right

A pelican flying down the river as we paddle up

I don't know what time we made it back to the bridge, but we packed up, loaded the boats, changed our clothes and made it to Tathra in good time for our 1.00pm booking at the pub for lunch :)
One puzzling occurrence; while we were loading the boats and as a red toyota landcruiser ute crossed the bridge heading towards Bermagui  the male driver yelled out something  along the lines of 'fuck off alla yous'. I'd like to meet him in Bermi one day to ask him why he feels that way about kayakers. On second thoughts, maybe not, knowing my predilection for 'foot in mouth'  it would probably turn out he suffers from Touretts!

Whatever, it was heavenly to be back on the water again.

7.31 kms