After our wonderful stay in Wentworth it was time to make our last state border crossing for some time. Today's 200 kilometre leg would finally take us back into South Australia and to an overnight stay at one of our favourite places on the River Murray......the river side camp site at Moorook.
Moorook.....where the hell is Moorook I hear you ask.....and more to the point, why there? Let me answer the second question first. Before we began our life on the road in our 'landship', Liz and I spent many weeks stooging up and down the River Murray in houseboats of varying types and sizes. Indeed, with the exception of a very short stretch, we have navigated the Murray from the NWS-Vic border to the lower lakes....the entire length of the river in SA. Of all the craft in which we have plied our way up and down stream, our favourite was 'Kloe', lovely little boat which was moored at Moorook. We have taken her out on three occasions, each of two weeks. I could now navigate the reaches and bends of the river between Waikerie and Loxton, in particular, in my sleep.
So for us, a return to Moorook was something of a pilgrimage where old and extremely frond memories would be rekindled and we could again enjoy this section of the Murray, but this time from an entirely different perspective.
And now to answer the first part of the question....where on earth is this tiny river town? Let me once again rely on my old friend Google Earth for the answer. As you can see
Moorook lies between Waikerie and Loxton (the town of Kingston-on-Murray is actually between Moorook and Waikerie but does not show up on this photo) on a section of the river which sweeps south from Berri before looping back north again, and as you will soon see, there is not a lot to the town itself.
So, this is our destination for today. We hauled out of Wentworth at first light and made our way back onto the Sturt Highway, gratefully by-passing the traffic and congestion of Mildura. This section of the blacktop, across through the Yamba fruit-fly roadblock, and on into Paringa, Renmark and beyond is old hat.....so let's not dwell on that......
Odd as it may sound given all we have since seen and done, as we made our way along the Kingston-Loxton Road
towards the town's general store and the camp site entrance opposite, we were really quite excited....this really is a place of very fond memories.
The camp ground here is genuine river frontage. BBQ's, a kiddies playground, river side seating....it's all here.
Our only disappointment stemmed from the fact that the pristine grass and level sites of the far end of the park, which we had targeted in our minds' eyes, was out of bounds. Whilst those who had arrived a few days before us were happily ensconced, and permitted to remain, a pending event at this end of the park had seen the local authorities rope it off just prior to our arrival to ensure that there was no unnecessary wear and tear.
Bugger! Ah, well, as I have so often commented, caravan and compromise both start with the letter 'C'! So it was the other end for us, but I did manage to find a spot where (with a bit of effort) I could level the van, we had a source of 240 volt power,
and good grass on at least one side. For the princely sum of $17 per night for a powered site (deposited in an envelope in the 'honesty' box at the park entrance) we had wonderful river views across to Moorook Island.
Let me again provide some perspective with grateful thanks to good old Google Earth. Our camp site here shows as the patch of green just north of the small strip of white on the bank almost opposite the bottom end of of Moorook Island. Just upstream of the end of the
island (the bottom end in the photo), the water course on the left hand side of the protruding finger of land is a 'dead-end'. It feeds the nearby Yatco Lagoon (in good years!), whilst the main river channel is that which can be seen to the right of this point. This stretch can be a bit of a trap for young players in houseboats as they make their way upstream, but for us it was very familiar territory.
So after set-up and a spot of lunch, we spent a delightful hour or so in the afternoon sun basking in both its warmth and the views.
But it was not all sloth...we did later wander down the main street, past one of its old homes to the Moorook Club, which you can just see in the distance (about 400 metres in reality). After a chat with the locals and a couple of obligatory pints,
it was time to meander back to our little idyll, past the old Moorook Hall, a building typical of its era in both design and construction (the use of the local stone is a hallmark of many of these river town buildings).
Once 'home', 'Chef Pierre' put the local public BBQ to good use
whilst herself was quick to occupy a riverside bench where I soon joined her for a late afternoon libation (or two).
As we happily gazed across the upstream end of Moorook Island and the fork in the main channel, we we in for another visual treat,
as the wonderfully restored and fully operational PS Marion ponderously paddled past to soon disappear down the channel behind the island.
With ducks winging their way across the calm waters of the late afternoon
and a couple of plodding pelicans poking around the BBQ area, all was at peace.
The silence was only shattered briefly by the cough and splutter of the small outboard motor propelling two local fishermen back to the Moorook boat ramp. As they retrieved their small
craft, these two pelicans were quick to flap upstream to inspect the catch, ever hopeful as they are of a tasty morsel or two.
With the shadow line of the trees of Moorook Island quickly advancing across the mirror surface of the river, it was time to repair indoors for the evening meal and an early night. What a delight it had been to be 'back on the river' again here at Moorook, even if our current mode of transport was landlocked.
Our return to Adelaide was imminent. In our house boating days our regular practice was to be away by first light if we were moving......old habits die hard. As the rising sun washed the eastern clouds with pink
and the resident pelicans began their morning river patrol
we were on our way.
Our regret at having to leave was tempered to some degree by the forecast......very strong winds and storms were on the horizon.....it was time to get much nearer to Adelaide and tuck up.
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