Murray on the Moore River by Murray Corp
© 2010 Murray Corp
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On a recent Sunday morning, a hardy (or was it foolhardy) group of paddlers met on the banks of the Moore River for a 12 km paddle to the river-mouth and back. This had been organised by Robyn Khorshid.
On arrival two things were apparent; firstly we weren't the only ones to have the idea as a large group were setting off upstream, and secondly, we'dwalked into the largest concentration of insects in one place since Mosessaid to Pharaoh "Locusts? I'll show you a plague of locusts." In our case it was a plague of bush-flies. When my wife Sue and I arrived, Robyn was there with Mary and Jenny, two Canadian sisters on holiday in WA, and there was a second Sue as well. We were delighted to see Lorraine and Katy arrive, principally because they were the only ones smart enough to have thought to bring insect repellent. Although, we really needed a continuous spray of the stuff to keep all the flies from our eyes, noses and mouths.
Fortunately, the numbers of flies decreased as we paddled downstream, helped in part by the fact that I'd managed to swallow so many! The river was calm; the scenery pretty, and the conversation interesting. Jenny had lived in Perth for a number of years before returning to Canada and Mary had visited on a number of occasions. I guess that explains their proficiency at the
As we headed towards Guilderton, we stopped at some sand-dunes and a few of us climbed to the top where we had a great view of the river, the flat land beyond, and a glimpse of the ocean. I was particularly taken with the sight of a small plant growing at the top of the dune; in pure beach sand, with sea breezes to contend with, yet it was flowering. Sue (not my Sue, the other one) asked me whether I was the Murray who used to write articles for Terry's newsletters. She said they were funny, and I admitted I had written the odd article, and promptly regretted my choice of phrase. It was her comment that prompted me to write this.
Setting out again, some of us paddled up a small creek which was christened "Shit Creek", but I refused to give up my paddle!
At Guilderton we enjoyed a picnic lunch and a coffee at the shop and then headed back up-stream. Some enterprising individuals had rigged a generator and pump at the base of the sand-dunes and constructed a water-slide using asheet of plastic. It looked like fun, but I knew I'd suffer next morning if I attempted the slide! I was reminded of the line from the John Denver song "Rocky Mountain High," "I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly" as osprey soared
Back at the car the flies couldn't wait to greet us, so through closed mouths we told them how well we'd done. Sue (my Sue, not the other one) and Katy were inexperienced paddlers, yet completed the 12 km with relative ease. And Katy was paddling a Finn Griffin, a kayak not known for its use as a touring kayak! As we loaded the cars, there was a loud crack and a huge
branch fell from a tree, landing about a metre from Sue (not my Sue, the other one) and her car! She was urged to buy a Lotto ticket because the result could have been very serious. We now know what happens when a branch falls in the forest; we are still to learn about bears pooping in the forest, but that's another story.
We had a stiff drink to settle our nerves (fruit juice, but not diluted!) and some of Robyn's home-made cheese biscuits. The only downside to the day was that Robyn has said she won't give us the recipe. We'll have to work on that one!
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