Paddle Report

When 3 families came in to the shop at 3.45pm to collect five boats, I knew I was going to have a hard time getting to the social paddle on time, but as it turned out, after a bit of rushing around I was only a few minutes late.

There was only a small crowd of paddlers who had gathered near Riverton Bridge, which was a surprise due to the beautiful evening, but that didn't detract from the enjoyment and events of the night.

Kelvin, Frances and I took off before the experienced paddlers expecting them to catch up pretty quickly. Kelvin & Frances were paddling a canoe that I had sold them a few weeks earlier and I thought they would have trouble keeping up, but as it turned out they were handling it beautifully, so much so, that we had to stop to wait for Alaine, Leonie, John, Megan and Tony.

We watched on as a group of Pelicans had gathered in their favourite spot just after the bridge. Multitudes of ducks were milling all around us feeding in the shallows with their bums up and head down. And then there were the fish jumping and darting around.

No matter how many times I paddle amongst this swampy area I always find it serene, peaceful and beautiful. We moved off when all had caught up and the deep red glow of Kelvin and Frances' canoe and bright yellow lifejackets reflected deeply in the water as the sun was setting. We moved between trees and explored different channels as the river continued to narrow and widen. Fisherman hidden in the trees and who had found a dry spot to stand cast their lines from banks.

Just before the old Castledare Boys Home the river divided. Leonie was heading towards a wide channel on the right. Although it was a dead end I told her she could follow it, and take a very narrow channel that met up with the main river. As Leonie took off, Alaine chased after her. I expected to see them back within minutes.

We slowed to allow them to catch up and when we reached Kent Street Weir I got a little concerned, they were longer than I would have expected. With Alaine having my food it meant that we couldn't start our picnic. And deep down I was a little worried, it seemed they were lost and it was getting dark,so I took off at full speed, in search of these two epic explorers. As I turned the corner to the channel I saw no paddlers either in front or behind me. Have they returned to the put in point or were they wondering around the swamps lost?

Within minutes I had reached the dead end. A layer of slime on the water gave no indication of any boat passing this way. I turned and paddled back to a dry overflow creek. Surely they haven't followed it, I thought.

I slid up the bank, scaping rocks with my bow, jumped out and walked a few metres. The sight of footsteps eased my mind. At least I knew where they were. I dragged my kayak along following the footsteps and kayak drag marks and within metres I sank in the mud up to my knees, well nearly. The mud stank, but I couldn't really complain, it was my fault that I was walking the muddy gully.

Within a few minutes I could see the girls ahead carrying Leonie's boat. Their legs were like mine, caked with smelly mud. Their sense of humour a little frayed.

When I caught up with them I convinced them to re-enter the river 100 metres from the weir, however they didn't like the fact that they had to walk through snake riddened swampy long grass to reach it. They were keener to walk their boats to the footbridge and across to our picnic point.

I led the way through the long grass with the girls talking about snakes behind me. I had no fear of snakes, so I kept going. When we reached the river the bank was a metre higher than the water, so it made entering the kayaks a little difficult. They could get no smellier so it didn't matter if they fell in. Nearby a dead turtle was rotting. It didn't make the overland trek through the mud, the long grass and the mosquito plague swamp any more glamorous. Were we really in hell?

We finally met up with the others, so we were a team again. Alaine did not seem amused with their diversion, had her sense of humour been left in the swamp somewhere? All three of us stank and our legs were caked with mud. I entered the river half expecting a revolt or pay back, it was my duty to face the music. All of a sudden they pounced, (with a little coaxing from the others). Alaine starting pushing me, I couldn't help but laugh at her feeble attempt, but when Leonie sped towards me with a rugby tackle, the two had me and I was gone. Even the All Blacks couldn't have performed such a tackle. At that moment I couldn't do any thing to stop these two determined,smelly, muddy, angry women from dunking me in the water.

I think it brought some sense of satisfaction to them both, seeing me wallow in the water, but Alaine still didn't seem too happy. Maybe this time it was because she was also wet!

As the sun dipped behind the trees and my body cooled I was lucky it was a fairly warm night and I had brought a cag to keep warm. Surprisingly there were few mosquitos.

Our picnic was fun. We had lots to eat, lots to drink and lots to talk about and reminisce and having Tony there to stir, we didn't really want to move.

Eventually after our long break and with Alaine having finished playing on the swings we moved off in the dark. Kelvin and Frances were extremely chuffed with paddling at night as they had never paddled at night before. Further down the river I led the group through a short cut. The trees had closed in and I could hear laughter as some of them became tangled in the branches. A little further on, out in the open a fish jumped, hit me and landed in my boat. It thrashed and wriggled about with me trying to grab it. I was so amused with what had happened I just couldn't stop laughing. (I was told like a little schoolgirl). That made it a little more difficult to grab the fish. As all of the others gathered beside me I caught it with firm hands. It was over a foot long, a good size for eating, but just like Willy, I freed it to join its mates and live a little longer. We paddled on with the water alive with jumping fish. Frances was also nearly hit but was lucky enough that it jumped across the boat.

I now smelt of mud, fish, beer, cheese and gherkins. With a bunch of smelly fish scales scattered inside my cockpit no wonder the others kept their distance.

When we left, we thought it was going to be a relaxing social paddle, you can never tell how the paddle will turn out……….this paddle had it all, a bit of adventure, a great fishing story to share (I'm sure I understated its size) and of course the social chit chat and good company and you know what else? Alaine eventually saw the funny side to the walk in the swamp! She is talking to me and smiling again!!!!!

By Terry Bolland