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Stage 9 - Crossing the Shoalhaven

We awoke looking forward to our second encounter with the Shoalhaven; a week earlier we had canoed the narrow gorge cut out by the river as it flowed through the sandstone formations to the west of the coast. Now we were confronted with the broad marshy basin as the river made its final exit to the sea. Logistically this promised to be one of our more difficult days, as we needed to cross the river at two points.

Leaving Shoalhaven Heads on a clear cool morning, we returned briefly to the lower end of Seven Mile Beach and its solitary surf fishermen spaced out at regular intervals, then crossed the sandy bar, blocking the river mouth at this point, to Comerong Island.

Sand bar blocking the Shoalhaven's original exit to the sea

Shoalhaven Heads and Mount Coolangatta

The solitary surf fisherman

This island is part nature reserve (on the eastern coastal strip), part dairy farm (on the western inland side). A good dirt road runs down the western side, but to get to it we needed to wade across a tidal marsh and find an overgrown walking track through the swamp casuarinas. The ability of our GPS unit to do this in this habitat was confidence-inspiring.

The dirt road took us through a pseudo-Dutch island landscape of flat green pastures, dykes and broad expanses of water, with fat contented dairy cows lazily watching our passage as they chewed their cuds. The island also boasted the largest population of willy-wagtails that I have seen in one place – no doubt due to the trophic flow-on from cows – dung – flies – flycatchers. Nello regretted not bringing the aerogard with us.

Comerong Island landscape

Ferry across the Berry Canal

Eventually we reached the Comerong Island Ferry, which connects the islanders to the mainland. The ferry sat idly on the far bank. Unfortunately, we discovered the ferry operator followed his terms and conditions very strictly; no crossings during the designated morning meal break from 10.00 – 10.30 and the ferry is only to cross over and pick up pedestrians when there is also a vehicle waiting.

While we wait together for the ferry, here is an interesting story about the way small actions have large consequences. The Shoalhaven River originally flowed out to sea at Shoalhaven Heads. To the south lay the Crookhaven River, a much broader inlet and estuary, and the two were separated by a 200m wide sand spit. In 1822, Alexander Berry decided to build the first canal in Australia and in 12 days dug a narrow canal across the spit to enable entry from the river to the estuary. It is this canal that the ferry now crosses. The Shoalhaven decided that the canal would provide an infinitely better route to the sea, and soon carved a much wider channel, silted up and closed the old entrance and now flows out to sea at Crookhaven Heads. Thus, one small ditch changed the course of a mighty (relatively speaking) river.

Shoalhaven wetland habitat

Our island vehicle arrived and we crossed the canal, heading south to follow it along a narrow farm track built on the dykes and crossing flood canals that have transformed this marshland into fine dairy country. It was pleasing to see that quite a lot of mangrove swamp and wetland areas have remained, to the benefit of the many species of water bird (including cranes, herons, ibis, egrets, plovers, ducks, pelicans and a sea-eagle) that we saw on this stage.

Two ibis watching

Swamp cows

Portrait of a local

Old man mangroves

Eventually we emerged from the mangroves at Greenwell Point, a fisherman's village on the Crookhaven River (memo to self: next time take the longer route on the main road into town, rather than the short cut through the rubbish dump in the mangroves). We wandered through the quiet streets to the Angler's Rest Caravan Park, where we had lined up our second river crossing by hire boat. The kindly owner took us over to Orient Point and refused any payment for his services!

The sandpiper, who visits our shores every year from Siberia

Our lift across the Crookhaven estuary

Pelican formation flying team

From Orient Point it was a 2 km walk south to our overnight accommodation at Culburra. We had telephoned for directions, and the owner of the motel, worried that the two weirdos walking in with heavy packs would get lost, came out to search for us. We refused her offer of a lift, having become a little puritanical in our determination to walk every dry land step of our journey, but again appreciated the good-hearted nature of the locals.

Orient Point, Crookhaven and Culburra blend into each other in a long sprawl of beach-houses. It was difficult to work out which had permanent residences and which were weekenders. From our evening meal at the local Bowling Club, a lot of retirees have chosen to live here.

Two more spent the night, but then moved on.


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