After knocking off the first half of the Great South West Walk over the previous week, my break stared with a much needed rest day in Nelson, before I packed up early and got a lift back to Moleside Landing with Chris - the owner/operator of the local canoe - for my kayak trip down the same 50km stretch of the Glenelg River that I had spent the previous three days following on foot. Thankfully the incessant rain of the previous day had subsided, though another problem had presented itself: school groups. I had thought there was something odd going on when the same campsites that had been virtually deserted on my walk were fully booked for days according to Parks Victorias online booking system, and as soon as I had mentioned it to Chris he said ah, there must be school groups on the river... but little did I realize just how many of these school groups there would be! Arriving at the same Moleside campsite where I had first encountered the Glenelg River, I found myself surrounded by girls preparing for their own river trip. Thankfully I knew of a quiet little
landing just around the corner on Moleside Creek, so that I could pack my kayak in peace and slip away quietly.
Once on the river the noise fell away instantly, and it was just me and the river. The feeling of tranquility was overwhelming. There were no motorboats and no other canoes; just the trees, the birds and me... until I reached the next landing at Wild Dog Bend, where another school group were making their way out onto the water. Hoping to find a picnic table where I could enjoy a leisurely lunch in peace and quiet, I set my sights on Saunders Landing a further five kilometres downstream, and was sure I had found what I was looking for when an hour later I finally laid eyes on the timber landing and found it free of other watercraft... only to hear from the bush as I approached, which soon materialised into yet another school group, who this time were on foot! It seemed that the river itself belonged entirely to me, but the river banks belonged entirely to school groups!
as I pressed on into my third hour on the river. Of course it didnt help that due to my inexperience at paddling (I could only recall using a kayak once before) I seemed to incapable of going in a straight line! Time and time again I would straighten myself up and start paddling, only to almost instantly find myself straying further and further to the left. Often I would have to paddle four or five times in a row on my side to right myself, only to then start straying to the left again as soon as I started alternating strokes again. So onwards I went, my way downstream whilst constantly having to correct myself, and all the while praying that the campsite at Pritchards would be school as I was in need of a rest break and some sustenance. Upon reaching Pritchards though it soon became obvious this wasnt the day for solitude seekers - already yet another school group (my fourth for the day) were setting up their tents at the campsite! So I pulled my kayak up to the bank and set myself up for lunch right there at the landing.
After a lunch break I had only another four kilometres (about an hours worth of paddling) to go to my overnight stop at Skipworth Springs. And this time there would be no school groups waiting on the bank to scare away the wildlife (and my sanity). But just when I thought my luck had finally changed, the day had another unpleasant surprise in store for me: the water point was nothing more than a fetid puddle in what looked like it had once been a creek! With not only my drinking supply but all of my (dehydrated) meals depending on clean water, there was no way I was going to spend the night at a campsite without a reliable water source, so back in the kayak I went to paddle a further 4km downstream to the walkers campsite at Battersbys, where I had spent the night only four days earlier and where I knew there was a rainwater tank that I could rely on.
