Finding Solitude on the River of Mirrors

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June 13th 2021

Published: June 13th 2021

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Backpackermatt

Mirror Image

Paddling downstream on the Noosa River

After a relaxing stopover at my parents' house in Brisbane, my northward migration continued with the short trip up to Noosa on the beautiful Sunshine Coast. But as picturesque as the scenery around Noosa may be - with a headland covered in coastal forest and lined with beautiful beaches - my main reason for visiting was to get up into the Cooloola Recreation Area section of the nearby Great Sandy NP, where the Noosa River snakes it's way towards the sea via a pair of shallow, brackish lakes (Cootharaba and Cooroibah). And to help facilitate my exploration of this unique and virtually undisturbed ecosystem (the Noosa River being the only major river in Australia whose upper catchment is entirely protected within a national park) I had booked a kayak for four days, so that I could get as far as possible up the river and properly immerse myself in the surroundings.

Unfortunately the closest I could get to the Upper Noosa River (the section beyond Lake Cootharaba, which sits about 20km upstream from the river's mouth) by public transport was the town of Tewantin, which still left me 20km short of my target at Elanda Point on the western shore

Lakeside Setting

Loading my kayak on the beach at Elanda Point

of Lake Cootharaba. So with my trusty backpack sporting a new chest strap (thanks to the combined problem-saving and sewing skills of my old man and a couple that live up the street) I hit the bitumen and started pounding out the miles along a secondary road that would lead me in towards the lake. Thankfully I only had to walk half the distance before a lovely lady stopped to offer me a ride. Joy was her name, and she had lived in Melbourne her whole life, before deciding to pull up stumps and relocate to the tiny lakeside settlement of Boreen Point only a few months before coronavirus (and the boundless incompetence of Victoria's state government) had laid waste to Melbournians' lives... a decision that, with the benefit of hindsight, would appear nothing short of genius!

Having been dropped off right at the entrance to Habitat Noosa - a sprawling complex consisting of an expansive campground, glamping tents, restaurant, gelato bar and microbrewery - I immediately claimed my lakeside campsite and threw my boardshorts on to go for a swim... only to end up walking about a hundred metres out into the lake without even getting my knees

Winding Waterway

Following a tour boat through the lower stretches of the Noosa River

wet! Despite covering an area of around fifty square kilometres, the average depth of Lake Cootharaba is only around a metre - so as I recall once doing at a beach in Denmark, I had to lie down on the bottom just to get myself properly wet! Thankfully lunch and beers at the brewery offered some degree of consolation.

After spending a relaxing afternoon getting acquainted with the abundant birdlife at the campground (ducks, magpies, kookaburras, hooded plovers, blue-eyed honeyeaters, and even a solitary great egret fishing in the lake) I then watched as the resident kangaroos gathered shortly before sunset to graze contentedly on the manicured lawns around the glamping tents. And then once the sun had gone down the unmistakably haunting cries of a pair of bush stone curlews could be heard piercing the silence - a sound I had not heard since my last stint in the tropics many years ago.

Rising early to a glorious sunrise over the lake the next day (Monday 7th June), I was soon packed up and ready to get going after having my rental kayak dropped off to me at the campground. By mid-morning I was on my way,

Around the Bend

Entering The Narrows on day one

with barely a ripple creasing the surface of Lake Cootharaba as I headed out from shore and turned left to tackle the 4km crossing from Elanda Point to the unmanned (and unfortunately closed) information centre at Kinaba, that marks the entry to the Upper Noosa River system. From there I headed through a narrow channel, passing the mouth of Kin Kin Creek (and following the directional markers very carefully) before emerging onto the smaller Fig Tree Lake, where I enjoyed a snack break in the shady cove at Fig Tree Point.

Pressing on past the entrance to Lake Como, I passed about a dozen other paddlers (all in tandem canoes) before reaching The Narrows, where the Noosa River's famous reflections can be seen to full effect, due to the encroaching riverbanks (sometimes no more than twenty metres apart) sheltering the water from winds that would otherwise disturb the surface. Coupled with the darkness of the water (a deep reddish-brown that matches the colour of black tea perfectly, due to the tannins that leach from the surrounding trees) it all combines to produce a surface that resembles a mirror, and the sight of the surrounding forest reflected perfectly in the

Dry Dock

The landing at campsite 2 - my lunch stop on day 1

water as I paddled through it proved to be absolutely mesmerising! At times the few clouds in the sky could actually be seen more clearly in the water than overhead, such was the quality of the reflections.

Passing the extensive campground and day-use area at Harry's Hut (the last road-accessible point heading upriver) about 7km upstream from Kinaba, I decided to keep paddling until I reached the first of the non-road-accessible campgrounds before stopping for lunch. Curiously these riverside campgrounds are numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 13 & 15, and they are scattered along the riverbanks for roughly 17km, with the first located 10km upstream from Lake Cootharaba and the last one 27km upstream, just short of where the river ceases to be navigable due to fallen trees and other natural obstacles. What happened to the missing numbers I have no idea, but in any case I had pre-booked campsites 5, 15 and 1 in that order, so that I could get right up to the far end of the navigable section of river over the first two days, with a further two days to retrace my paddle strokes to Elanda Point after that. And unlike

Life in the Slow Lane

Passing campsite 3 on my way upriver

on my previous multi-day kayak trip on the Glenelg River in South-western Victoria - when I had been surrounded by school groups at each campsite - in this case each of the campsites beyond the first three are considered to be 'private' campsites, so that I was guaranteed to have at least my first two overnight stops all to myself.

With a tour boat (the last one left on the river, as it turned out) moored at campsite 1, I pressed on for another fifteen minutes to campsite 2, before hopping out of my kayak for the first time to enjoy a leisurely lunch in the shade of the forest lining the river. Of the canoeists that I had passed earlier, only a solitary couple made it as far up as I had, and having been camped next to them beside Lake Cootharaba the previous night I knew they were headed for campsite 3 that day, before aiming for campsite 13 the following day and then heading all the way back to Elanda Point the day after that. As it turned out, when they passed by shortly before I hopped back into my kayak it would be the last

Time to call it a day

Approaching campsite 5 at the end of day 1

time I saw anyone on the river until I reached The Narrows again three days later!

Having already covered 15km before lunch (at which point I noticed that my average paddling speed of about 4km/h on the Glenelg River had risen to about 6km/h on the Noosa River, for what reason I'm not entirely sure) I had only another 5km to go to my first overnight stop, and so barely an hour of leisurely paddling later I arrived at campsite 5 to claim my little patch of cleared ground in the forest, before indulging in a brief dip in the river in the absence of any showers. In fact beyond campsite 3 there are no facilities whatsoever on the river - nor any reliable water sources - which, given the brackish nature of the water in the river, made it necessary to bring a 10-litre container of drinking water with me, to ensure I had an adequate supply of fresh water to sustain me until I arrived back at campsite 1 in another two days' time. Coupled with the remoteness of my surroundings, this had added an extra level of logistical complexity to my trip, when compared with my

Obstacle Course

Negotiating overhanging trees on day 2

earlier experience on the Lower Glenelg River. Needless to say, the effort was well and truly rewarded.

With only 11km to paddle to reach my next campsite, I got off to a leisurely start the following morning, which allowed me to get my tent dry after light showers had fallen for most of the night. Then it was back onto the river to absorb more of the beautiful scenery, with forest lining the banks on both sides of the river for as far as the eye could see - and with not a single man-made intrusion to mar the landscape other than a small clearing and wooden sign to signify each campsite. The peace and serenity were overwhelming, and I often took the opportunity to stop paddling and simply drift along until my kayak came to a stop, with the only sounds to be heard being those of water passing underneath the hull and the ever-present birdsong that accompanied me throughout each day.

Within a couple of hours I had reached campsite 15, where a beautiful clearing covered in leaf litter offered one of the most tranquil tent sites I have ever come across. After a prolonged lunch

Clearing in the Leaf Litter

My tent site at campsite 15

break and a couple of chapters of my book (about an Australian man's quest to uncover the secrets of the Tsangpo Gorges in South-Eastern Tibet) I hopped back into the kayak to explore my surroundings further - first taking a detour up Teewah Creek, which branches off from the main river directly opposite the campsite; and then forging my way a couple of kilometres further up the Noosa River itself, until eventually my passage was blocked by fallen trees and other foliage. Returning to camp just in time to watch the most spectacular sunset colours lighting up the clouds - all of which was perfectly reflected in the river - I had the overwhelming sense of having left the human world far behind and become completely immersed in the natural world. The contrast to my previous kayak trip on the Glenelg River couldn't have been more stark, and there was definitely a part of me that wished I would never have to return to civilization, such was the feeling of peace and satisfaction that came over me.

Waking to the sound of raindrops on my tent the next morning, I lingered in my sleeping bag to see if I

Stunning Sunset

Dramatic colours reflected in the river at campsite 15

could wait it out, since there was no shelter nor anywhere to sit beyond the confines of my tent. But thankfully sometime around 8:30 the rain relented, and I was able to at least enjoy a relatively comfortable breakfast before having to pack my sodden tent - with the clear skies of the previous two days having been replaced by a steely gray that was reflected in the river as I slowly made my way back downstream. With no more than three hours of paddling required to get me all the way back to campsite 1, I took the opportunity to indulge in a couple of detours up side-creeks along the way, and eventually the cloud cover was replaced by more brilliant blue sky, adding brightness and colour to the ever-present reflections for the rest of the day.

And with the sun shining unobstructed from across the river by the time I arrived at campsite 1, I took full advantage of the broad timber landing built out over the water by spreading my tent fly out to dry, while I lazed away the rest of the afternoon on my sleeping mat, lapping up the sun's warmth and enjoying multiple

Mirror Image

Perfect reflections in the Noosa River on day 3

cups of tea while getting stuck into my book, as the river lapped gently at the wooden boards beneath me and birds darted across from one bank to the other; until eventually the sun dropped low enough for it's warmth to dissipate, thus rousing me from my torpor and giving me the necessary motivation to finally set up my tent and start thinking about dinner.

When a group of eight hikers with full backpacks passed by the campsite late in the afternoon - presumably doing a variation of the Cooloola Great Walk that I would be tackling the following week - I realized they were the first people I had set eyes upon in more than 48 hours; but if I thought I had prematurely left the natural world behind I was in for a rude awakening (literally) later that night, when suddenly the howl of a dingo pierced the silence at around 1am. And though dingos aren't known to attack adult humans, the primal nature of that howl - which, despite being repeated in bursts for at least the next hour, never received a response from any canine companions - was enough to keep me wide awake with

Sun Deck

The wooden landing at campsite 1

a quickened pulse and heightened senses, until silence eventually descended again and I was finally able to drift back to sleep. It certainly gave me food for thought for the coming week's adventures!

Waking the next day to find that my cooking pot and bowl - which I had left, along with my small gas bottle and portable stove, in the toilet shelter, so as to avoid attracting animals to my tent - had been scattered to opposite corners of the cubicle (but were thankfully still intact!) by what I could only assume was an inquisitive possum, I enjoyed a serene (if cold) breakfast down by the river, before packing up and hitting the water for the final day of my trip. A couple of kilometres downstream I finally encountered my first fellow paddlers in three days as I proceeded back through The Narrows, and it was only as I was exiting the narrowest section of river that I rounded a bend and almost collided with an oncoming tour boat, immediately followed by a pair of paddlers in solo kayaks, and then behind them a pair of fishermen in a small tinnie - and all at once I had

Paddle at the Ready

Ready for action on day 4

most definitely returned to the world of humanity! Still, as human interference goes this was definitely at the minimal end of the scale, and within a couple of minutes it was just me and the river again, with a resting cormorant allowing me to drift quite close by as it perched on a submerged tree.

Negotiating the network of channels that led me back past the outlet of Lake Como, across Fig Tree Lake and past the mouth of Kin Kin Creek, I finally reached the information centre at Kinaba and set out on the final 4km crossing of Lake Cootharaba. But though there was barely a ripple on the lake's surface when I first paddled out onto it, I soon felt the expected Westerly breeze strengthening, and with it the previously glassy surface of the lake became noticeably choppy. And it was at this point that a development from earlier in the trip started to have an adverse impact, as the webbing that attached my left-side foot pedal to the rudder cable had snapped just before I reached campsite 15 two days earlier.

On the river this hadn't presented much of a problem, as with little to

The Home Stretch

Crossing Lake Cootharaba on the way back to Elanda Point

no current the rudder would generally hold it's line, meaning that it was only when rounding a left-hand bend in the river that I would have to stop paddling and manually yank the rudder cable with my left hand to steer (I still had full control with my right-side foot pedal), but with the wind whipping up little waves on the surface of Lake Cootharaba I found that no matter how many times I straightened myself up and got the rudder pointing exactly straight, by the time I had paddled for thirty seconds or so the current coming from my right-hand side had pushed the rudder out of alignment and sent me veering off to the right... meaning that every thirty seconds I had to stop paddling and reach down to pull the rudder cable hard left - so that I was constantly starting out to the left of my intended course only to then arc around to the right as I built up momentum!

Needless to say, this wasn't ideal - and the odd expletive may have passed my lips as I slowly but surely slalomed my way back towards Elanda Point whilst getting progressively wetter from the

Beer O'Clock

Back on the beach at Elanda Point after four in the wilderness

wind-blown spray being whipped up off the lake! It also meant that the swelling that had been building up just above my left wrist over the past two days (a result of the uneven paddling I was having to do) started to flare up, so that by the time I had passed Mill Point - after which I was sheltered from the Westerly breeze - my arm was causing me no end of trouble! Still, by this stage I only had about a kilometre left to go, and there was no way a little swelling was going to ruin what had been a truly memorable four days in the wilderness. A quick wee break at Mill Point and a leisurely paddle along the shoreline later, and I was back where I had begun on the beach at Elanda Point... and best of all, I had a woodfired pizza and some freshly-brewed craft beers to look forward to in the campground's bar/restaurant that evening! The perfect end to a brilliant adventure.

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