Paddle Report

t had been another busy day! Before the shop opened at 9.00 a.m. I was doing a little maintenance painting it. It was followed by a full day of serving customers. At 4.15 p.m. I loaded boats for the people who needed them, got ready and headed to the river for the first Moonlight Paddle of the summer season. Alaine was going to join us but unfortunately her daughter, Emily was involved in a horse riding accident. So she missed out.

There were two groups, the mob from Ascot Kayak Club and the elite paddlers from CDU. The Ascot mob had put in further down the river, near Peter's home, but they were the ones who needed the extra exercise to keep in shape.

About twenty keen paddlers took off from Point Reserve paddling north-east in the hope of finding a grassy patch to sit, eat, drink, chat and watch the moon rise.

The day had been a hot one, but the breeze funnelling down the river kept us cool. As ducks scattered in front of us, we moved under Guildford Bridge and faced the Rail Bridge. Once again, my mind flashed back to a dark night over 20 years ago. That night, paddling towards this same Rail Bridge, I came across a train that had stopped on the bridge. I knew instantly that something must be wrong. The driver and attendant were looking down into the river. A bag was resting on the concrete pylon base. Next to it I saw a pool of blood, some of which was trickling down the pylon and into the water. I realised what must have happened.

I looked up to the guys on the track - they shouted down "Can you see a body?" I scanned the dark water searching for anything floating. In my mind I could imagine one amongst the shadows, but in reality, I could see nothing. The accident had happened only moments before I arrived.

The responsibility to find this person weighed heavily. The people on the train were way up and could do nothing. The emergency services were so far away that by the time they arrived the body would have gone. Than I had thoughts of another train coming up from behind, hitting the parked train, what a disaster that would be.

So it was up to me, alone and in the dark, without a torch, and in my unstable marathon boat to search the mucky waters for a person that may or may not be alive.

Would I find someone seriously injured and in deep distress, panicking and wanting to grasp any thing that would keep them a float? Or would I find a body floating? How would I deal with the situation in my tippy boat.

I paddled in circles, up and down, trying to work out where the current would take a body. To my dismay I could find nothing, the body had disappeared. I probably had a chance to save someone's life, but it wasn't to be. If only I had a torch so that I could see better. Even after ten minutes no other rescuers arrived. I eventually paddled back to the pylon, looked up to the driver and said, "Sorry, I can't find him".

The person had been walking on the train track when he was hit, he fell 15 metres onto concrete. The hope of surviving such a horrific fall was very slim. I later paddled home still searching the river, but with little hope. A few days later the body was recovered some kilometres away……………………….

As I and the tail end of the group passed under the Rail Bridge a train sped across it, rattling and shaking the sleepers and pylons. The thought of it collapsing went through my mind! Wow, can you imagine what would happen if it did come down.

The group started to spread as the faster paddlers moved forward. We were now in the country, a few houses stood back on the right bank and just paddocks along the left. We were in no hurry, so we relaxed and took in the beautiful evening.

Just before Barker's Bridge we passed the place where a dare devil motor bike rider once jumped the river. I remember watching him from my kayak. They had built a dirt ramp on the southern side so he could gather speed. The bike revved, sped up the ramp and then flew through the air with great speed. It was a successful jump, but he only just made it!

About three hundred metres up stream of the bridge, we stopped. We had arrived at Lilac Hill, the start of the scenic Swan Valley and the venue of the first International Cricket match of the season. This year it was the Australian Prime Ministers 11 against Zimbabwe. The ground is only small, but it caters for a big crowd of corporate businesses. For the day, high scaffolding and Marques are erected to seat the spectators, who don't really come to watch the cricket but to enjoy a day of eating, drinking and drinking and drinking.

The Ascot mob had bought their own picnic table (courtesy of Cathy who drove) and set out a banquet. The rest of us had our drinks and nibbles, some of which looked much tastier than my own! Luckily they were shared around. By sunset the absence of mosquitoes was pleasantly noted, though it's a mystery as to why they weren't around. However as the moon was searching for a higher plane they then started to bite. The aeroguard saved the evening once again.

As the trees quivered in the breeze the round full moon shone through them. It was stunning. Some of the best times of my life have been associated around Full Moon, too many to write about, but such wonderful memories.

Just as we were returning home, a wine cruiser with about six searchlights glaring motored around the corner. Shouts from the party goers on board spoiled the silence of the evening. Fortunately it gave little wash which avoided us being swamped.

On our return to Point Reserve the pace quickened, could it have been due to some being a little tipsy?

As the CDU professionals landed, the Ascot mob bunched up and carried on paddling down stream.

It was a pleasant moonlit evening, and what a wonderful start to our summer season social paddles.

By Terry Bolland