Shoalhaven Gorge 30 November - 2 December 2020 Day 2

Today was predicted to be a scorcher and it was already very warm when we hit the water at 9.10am to paddle upstream, hopefully to the infamous Fossickers Flat.

L pops out from behind a rock to see what's taking us so long

Already we are hugging the shade wherever possible

Ahead, beside the rocky beach is where we encountered the first gravel race on our last trip in October 2017. At that time we got out and walked up the bank on river right only to see gravel races stretching into the distance and so called it quits. This time we were more hopeful.

The water level was now high enough that, though shallow, the water flowed smoothly and gently over the gravel race.  We paddled on round the corner and up the straight a bit to the next gravel race. This one was flowing quite strongly so we got out and walked the boats up the shallows.  I must confess that I did not get out of my boat so much as fall out however the dunking was a welcome relief from the heat.  

Once above the race we paddled up a long pool to the next obstacle - a large gravel race disappearing around a bend.  Sitting in the eddy below this rapid, this skink and I eyed each other off while

 

L checked out the rapid

After some discussion we decided not to attempt a boat drag - Fossickers would have to wait for yet another day.  So while the others bobbled in the eddy L and I practiced some ferry gliding and break ins and outs and he taught me how to hold the boat steady at the bottom of the little rapid. After 20mins or so the troops started getting restless and we returned to the next eddy downstream where we could get out in the shade. The rapid can be seen in the background.

We sat in the shade for nearly and hour

contemplating our surroundings

 until we finally roused ourselves to

 head back to camp

We drifted back downstream

The excitement for the day, or so we thought, being riding the gravel race dowstream.

Drifting over the 2017 gravel race - flood damage beyond L apparent.

We poddled over what is, at lower levels, an extensive rock garden,

reaching camp at 11.30am

By this time it was stinking hot and the rest of the day was spent seeking the deepest shade with frequent dips in the river. By 1.00pm the tents were nearly fully shaded and not long after L took himself off for an afternoon nap.

As the afternoon dragged on it got hotter and the humidity relentlessly grew. Our comfort level was not helped by the decibels of the cicadas which seemed to increase with the humidity until the noise was deafening and reached close to painful levels for our ears.

By late afternoon it became very oppressive and we remembered that some rain had been forecast for 5.00pm. So R&I went down to the boats to close hatches and put on the spray decks. As we slithered down the slope to the water we could suddenly hear in the distance a howling noise, looking up we could see the front of a large dark cloud looming over the edge of the escarpment. As we worked the howling got louder and louder. By the time we finished it was drowning out the cicadas and we legged it back to the tents. 

Just as we reached them the wind and rain hit and it was a mad scramble to to chuck stuff in the tents and get in ourselves. Just as we were zipping up the fly there was a great crack and a crash - half a tree came down 30 metres from our tents. R,L &I had managed to chuck our chairs into our tent so after closing windows and vents we managed to sit in relative, albeit cramped comfort whilst riding out the storm as our cheap tent bowed and swayed, but most importantly held, in the wind.  Meanwhile, amidst the roaring wind, driving rain, thunder and lightening at the other tent life was not so easy - the great big luxury awning was threatening to take off with the tent attached so S&V had no choice but kneel exposed to the elements and hang onto it for the duration. However being outside they did get to see the two foot waves driving up the river whilst wondering what was happening with our boats. Luckily the storm moved on as quickly as it had come and just as their strength was giving out it was all over.

The boats were safe, each tied to the other and then to Big Red which was tied to the roots of a tree brought down in the flood. And luckily for the Delta's the wind had driven them out into the water and not up onto the rocky shore. Then it was time to clean up and sort out the camp. One benefit of the storm - the temperature in the 10 minutes had dropped from oppresive to pleasant and most of the cicada's had shut up or died :(.

Here is an extract from the Goulburn Post 1 December 2020:

A super storm cell has cut a swathe of destruction through Goulburn and district and sparked multiple SES call-outs.

The storm, which started at about 4.40pm, also cut power to parts of Tallong, Marulan, Taralga, Crookwell and to the west, affecting up to 5000 residences.

Acting SES Argyle cluster commander Daryl Skinner said the Crookwell area was the worst hit, with 34 call-outs following just 15 minutes of heavy rain and strong wind.

Rain droplets glistening on the casaurina's after the storm

By the time we had set the camp to rights it was well after 6.30pm and it was time to get the dinner on.

During dinner we all decided it was a mistake not having pushed onto Fossicker's Flat - I think the cooler temperature was reinvigorating us. We also discovered that none of us could eloquently or even adequately describe the noise of the wind in the lead up to the storm. After studying Saturn and Jupiter, in unusually close alliance so L told us, it was off to bed and a surprisingly good nights sleep for all of us.