Ross River Fever

by Christopher Cummings

  The next reach was a long, deep pool with the left bank rising steeply up to where the roofs of houses could just be seen. The right bank was only a few metres high, beyond which was a flat marshland composed of narrow, twisting channels a metre or so wide. These twined amidst dozens of grassy hummocks. The higher bank of the floodplain lay beyond these. The marshy flat grew wider the further they went downstream.

  The long reach was a place of some interest to Andrew. First they passed two men who were taking racehorses for a swim. Next a large fish jumped and there was a sudden swirl in the water behind it. “Something big in there,” he commented, eyeing the water suspiciously and wondering about crocodiles. Carmen pointed to the birds as they passed: cormorants, storks and cranes, pelicans and seagulls.

  After a few hundred metres the reach narrowed down to a couple metres and shallowed until they could see the bottom. The current increased in strength and they bumped down a tiny set of rapids a few metres long, then scraped along an even narrower channel right beside the steep, left bank. This was overgrown with long grass and weeds. Some kids on bikes stared down at them at one point and a jogger passed by along the path on top of the bank.

  “Lots of rubbish,” observed Carmen, wrinkling her nose in disapproval.

  At that point they ran out of depth. Andrew’s canoe slid to a standstill on soft mud. Carmen’s joined them. They looked over the side and debated what to do.

  “This doesn’t look very nice. Do we go back?” Letitia asked.

  “No. Where’s your spirit of adventure Sis? Besides, this was your idea,” Martin called. He stepped out and the mud squelched over his sandshoes. “It’s OK. Firm sand under a layer of ooze,” he said.

  “Watch out for broken glass or rusty iron,” Carmen cautioned. She also rose and stepped out. Andrew did likewise and Letitia reluctantly rolled up her jeans and stepped out. For a few moments there was a general hesitation before Andrew grasped the front of his canoe and started walking.

  Freed of their weight the canoes drew only a few centimetres and slid easily along. The walking wasn’t as bad as it looked. As Martin had said it was firm sand under the layer of mud. Andrew settled down to trudging along. Letitia followed but wasn’t happy. He kept looking back at her, partly to reassure her and partly to admire her.

  They had to walk about a kilometre. The sun grew hotter and the clouds cleared away. Andrew wiped sweat out of his eyes and pointed to a shower of rain passing only a few kilometres away. “I wish that would come over here and cool us down.”

  But it didn’t. The rain swept past across the base of Mt Stuart. The group trudged on until they could clearly see the Bowen Road Bridge. Here the water deepened enough for them to board and start paddling again. The current was still with them and the going was easy. The river widened out as the channel twisted away from the left bank out into the middle of a large marshy wasteland.

  Abruptly the channel narrowed to funnel under the bridge. A few snags and old bridge piles gave a moment of excitement as they steered to avoid them. Then they were under the bridge and paddling along a wide, shallow reach. On their right was an ugly clutter of large, old buildings with a huge brick chimney dominating them.

  “What’s that place?” Andrew asked.

  “Old meatworks,” Letitia answered.

  “Looks pretty ancient.”

  “Built in the 19th century,” Letitia replied.

  “Smells like it.”

  They paddled on, Andrew’s canoe still in the lead. Once they slid almost to a stop on a mudbank and he swore and poled with his paddle to push them back into deeper water. After that he paid more attention to his course. The channel swept in a large curve to the left. On their right was a steep, grassy bank with houses or open paddocks beyond. On the left was the Golf Course. It looked very green and pleasant. The channel was easy to follow and the current still very helpful. Fish jumped and ducks fluttered away as they drew near.

  Downstream of the Golf Course the bank on the left gave way to houses and apartments. The river began to curve back to the right. Several Torres Strait Islanders of both sexes sat on rocks beside the river fishing. One waved and Andrew waved back.

  “Caught anything?” Carmen called.

  A flash of white split the black face and the man held up a whiting about twenty centimetres long. All the way along Andrew had been noticing swirls in the water as fish moved away from them. There were frequent splashes as fish jumped and it was obvious the river had plenty of fish in it.

  A tiny ‘jetty’ a few metres long came into view. By common consent they steered over to it and tied up. As they bumped to a standstill Andrew gave a loud exclamation and pointed.

  “Look at all these crabs!” Hundreds of small crabs were scuttling for cover among the rocks. They had dark greyish-blue shells and reddish-purple legs. Andrew stared at them in fascination for a few moments, then clambered out onto the rocks which lined the bank- obviously an artificial barrier to prevent erosion. He turned and helped Letitia out. They clambered up the few metres to the top of the bank, to find a park with a park bench. Beyond this were houses and a whole suburb. Carmen and Martin joined them.

  “Oh! I know where we are,” Letitia said. “I play netball at a park just along that street.”

  “I’m hungry. Why don’t we have lunch here?” Martin asked.

  “Good idea. There’s a shop just in the next street. I’m going to buy a softdrink,” Letitia said. She stood up. “Come with me Andrew.”

  Andrew had just lowered himself to the seat and was massaging his leg. “I’d rather not walk too much,” he replied. “My leg still hurts a bit.”

  Carmen said: “I’ll go with you Letitia. You boys mind the canoes. Does anyone else want anything at the shop?”

  The two girls took off their buoyancy vests and walked off across an open grassy area. Martin seated himself beside Andrew. They sat facing out across the river and a large flat, grass-covered area beyond. Another rain curtain was sweeping across it but would obviously miss them. They sat in blazing sunshine and sweated.

  “Bloody rain! Why doesn’t it come here!” Andrew snapped.

  “It always does that,” Martin replied. “It comes from the sea over beyond Cape Cleveland; that’s those mountains over there in the distance, then crosses Muntalunga Mountain and on to Mt Stuart.” He pointed to more distant mountains.

  “What’s this flat area across the river? It looks like a cattle station,” Andrew asked.

  “No. Part of it is holding paddocks for the meatworks and the rest is a Department of Primary Industries Research Station,” Martin replied. He proceeded to point out other features. The most obvious was Castle Hill which stood out boldly above the flat river plain a few kilometres away. In the sunlight it seemed to glow a reddish grey. Andrew saw more rain clouds the other side of it. He also noted that the river was rapidly growing shallower as the tide drained it out. Already a sandbar was becoming visible just opposite them and by the time the girls returned he could see the bottom even in the deepest channel, which ran at the foot of the bank below them.

  The girls handed them cold drinks and the four sat and ate sandwiches and chocolates. A pleasant breeze cooled them which was nice as there was no shade. More rain showers drifted by tantalizingly only a few kilometres away.

  “We’d better not waste much more time,” Andrew said. “The tide is dropping fast and we will have to walk and drag the canoes again if we aren’t careful.”

  At his urging they ate faster, then pulled on buoyancy vests. That done they reboarded the canoes and pushed off. By then the river was only about a metre deep, the sandy bottom clearly visible. The current still flowed fast so they slid rapidly on downstream. Fish became more numerous, sudden swirls or splashes marking their movements. From time to time Andrew glimpsed flashes of silver as large fish took fright at their approach.

  The channel swerved abruptly back to the other bank, diverted by a low bar of rock on which stood several anglers. Afte
r that they had a much wider reach to paddle along with the wind blowing full in their faces. The channel widened out as they approached some bridges but the river remained shallow, evidenced by several Aboriginal youths wading around with cast nets.

  “They’re game,” Martin offered. “I reckon there’d be crocs in this part of the river. See, we are coming to mangroves.”

  Andrew had already noted the mangroves. Now he dipped his hand in the water and tasted it. “Salt alright,” he observed.

  They slid under a concrete rail bridge and then a busy road bridge and the river curved right and abruptly became deep and fifty metres wide. The wind blew directly along the reach and blew up a lop which caused small spatters of spray to splash up as they drove into it. The current was no longer obvious and they had to paddle hard. Houses lined the left bank and mangroves and flat salt marsh the right.

  As they reached a concrete boat ramp at the last of the houses Letitia suggested they stop. “I’m puffed and I’m getting a cramp in the bum from sitting in this thing,” she wailed.

  They pulled over to the ramp and climbed stiffly out. Andrew had to admit he was ready for a break as well. They moved to one side as a man reversed a boat trailer down to launch his dinghy.

  “How much further?” Carmen asked.

  Martin answered. “About another three or four kilometres I think,” he replied. “I’ve never been down it but it gets wider and deeper from here on and there are lots of yachts and fishing boats moored along the way.”

  “I think I’ve had enough,” Letitia replied.

  Andrew was a bit disappointed by this. He wanted to follow the river all the way to the sea. Carmen however agreed with Letitia. “I’m feeling sore too, and if it is all mangroves from here on I’m not very keen. I don’t want to provide a crocodile with his afternoon tea.”

  Martin scoffed at this saying no-one had ever been eaten by a croc in the river in his lifetime.

  Carmen looked at her watch and said: “Even so, it is now one O’clock and it took us over three hours to get here, and that was with the current.”

  Andrew stretched and massaged his arms. He did not want to admit that he felt tired and sore but he did. He sniffed the salt air and studied the sky. More heavy grey clouds were drifting across a few kilometres to the south, laying curtains of rain as they went. He wiped sweat from his forehead and wished they would rain on them. With a show of reluctance he agreed to turning back.

  “We can do the rest some other day,” he said. “And we can start at this boat ramp, if we can get a car to lift the canoes to here.”

  CHAPTER 13

  WALKING THE DOG

  The journey back upstream took nearly four hours. Andrew realized very quickly that he had miscalculated the tide. Certainly the tide had turned at 12:45 but he had not allowed for the fact that it would take quite a while before its effects were felt so far up the river. Indeed the water was still draining away for much of the time they struggled upstream. By then the water was so shallow in many places they were continually scraping the bottom and having to get out and walk.

  This began in earnest when they reached the Bowen Road Bridge. From here on the stream was a mere trickle over mud. Andrew plodded and slipped along through this in an increasingly bad mood. The afternoon sun blazed down on them, full on their faces. This made them sweat and the salt in their perspiration stung their eyes. Andrew knew he was getting sunburnt and could see that Letitia was turning a lobster pink. He replenished his coating of sunscreen and reminded her to do likewise but the cream just seemed to slick off with the sweat, adding its own sting to their eyes.

  The rain clouds had vanished, leaving only the clear, blue tropical sky. Andrew felt distinctly irritated and grumpy. His sore leg ached badly. Letitia became petulant and whining and Martin swore and grumbled. Only Carmen managed to keep herself cheerful and to find things of interest around them.

  It was with real relief that they sighted deep water after dragging the canoes up the short set of now almost dry rapids. Thankfully they slid the canoes into deeper water and boarded them. Another half hour of upstream paddling had them back at Aplins Weir. By then they were starting to snap irritably at each other. The portage around the weir was a trying little ordeal. Once at the higher level they felt better. The breeze seemed cooler and stronger and the scenery appeared prettier. Carmen jollied them into action to paddle the last stretch.

  As soon as they arrived at the Schipholl’s landing spirits lifted, helped by Snoopy dog who came racing down the lawn, tail wagging furiously. He jumped up to lick them all and soon raised grins and laughter.

  Carmen rumpled his ears. “Good dog! Oh isn’t he nice!” she cried. “That’s enough Snoopy. Down pooch! Stop! Stop him Martin!” But Snoopy wouldn’t. She burst out laughing as Snoopy leapt up to lick her again. She tried to step away but he was too fast and ran between her legs, nearly tripping her. Martin grinned and then grabbed Snoopy and calmed him down.

  The canoes were lugged up to the shed and stored and the tired, sunburnt children flopped thankfully in chairs in the shade of the back patio.

  “Well, that turned out to be more of an effort than I had counted on,” Martin said.

  “It certainly was,” Carmen agreed.

  “So what do we do tomorrow?” Andrew asked. He was partly annoyed because he had had no chance to be alone with Letitia.

  “No canoeing,” Letitia cried. She lay back and fanned herself.

  Andrew felt his aching arm muscles and could only agree. “Not for a day or so anyway,” he said.

  “I feel like a quiet day at home,” Martin said.

  Letitia sat up. “I agree. Why don’t you just come over and we could play games here.”

  “What sort of games?” Andrew asked hopefully.

  Letitia smirked. “What sort of games would you like to play?” she asked with pointed double meaning. Andrew blushed and struggled to think of a suitable reply. Luckily Martin saved him by saying: “We can have a game on the computer, and some board games and I can work on my models.”

  “Oh poo to your models!” Letitia replied.

  “So what then?” Martin retorted.

  Letitia shrugged. “Oh we can just listen to music and talk and have a swim in the pool and that sort of thing.”

  Martin curled his lip and muttered about ‘girlie things’ but Carmen agreed that a quiet day would be a good idea. Andrew seconded that. His leg was throbbing and his arms felt as though they were about to knot up in cramps at any minute.

  “Will we ask Mark and Jill over?” he asked.

  “If we must!” Letitia snapped so sharply that Andrew felt guilty.

  Martin nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “And we could ask Anne over too.”

  And so it was arranged. Carmen then said: “Come on little brother. We’d better get home. It is getting late.”

  “Which way will we go?” Andrew asked.

  Martin answered for him: “Go over Aplins Weir. It is the shortest way.”

  “What if you meet the bullies?” Letitia asked.

  “Oh we won’t!” Andrew replied with a snort. “They will have cleared out. Come on Car. We know the way now and it is much shorter than going around by the bridge.”

  With some misgivings Carmen agreed to this. They said goodbye and set off. Fifteen minutes walking had them at the end of the weir. The only people in sight were five black people- Torres Strait Islanders- who were fishing. These nodded friendly greetings as the pair made their way past them. Twenty minutes later they were home.

  They spent the night quietly watching TV and reading. Andrew kept rubbing his arms to ease the muscles. His leg wound was also attended to. The ‘dressing’ was coming loose and the wound was itching but it seemed to have healed nicely, only a bit of clear fluid seeping out of it. That night in bed he was too tired to fantasize and slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  By 9:30 the next morning both were back over at the Schipholl’s. Both Mr and Mrs Schipholl were
out, leaving Martin and Letitia alone with the pets. These provided much entertainment and comic relief. Snoopy greeted them enthusiastically and was made much of. Then Tiptoe the cat appeared and demanded some attention. Andrew gave her a perfunctory rub before Carmen picked her up and stroked her.

  As Andrew sat down with a glass of cordial provided by Letitia (Who to his disappointment was modestly dressed in shirt and jeans) he asked: “Are the others coming over?"

  “They said they might after lunch,” Martin replied. He had a plastic kit model of an aircraft half completed and showed it to Andrew. “Beaufort Torpedo Bomber,” he explained.

  Andrew carefully took it and admired it from every angle. “Looks good. What others have you got?”

  “Come and look,” Martin replied. He led him through to his room, leaving the two girls to talk in the lounge. For the next half hour the two boys admired Martin’s model aircraft collection. In particular Andrew was very taken by a 1:72 scale Short ‘Sunderland’ flying boat.

  “She’s a beauty Martin. I must save up and get one.”

  “I’d love to go for a flight in a real flying boat,” Martin commented.

  At that moment Letitia stuck her head around the door. “We are going to take Snoopy for a walk. Do you boys want to come?”

  “Not really,” Martin replied.

  “What about you Andrew?”

  Andrew found himself torn both ways. He would have been happy to sit and talk to Martin but the inviting smile on Letitia’s face was more than he could resist.

  Martin saw his dilemma and said: “Go on. Go for a walk with them. I've got plenty to keep me busy.”

  “Are you sure?” Andrew asked, somewhat relieved.

  “Positive. My current project is way behind schedule,” Martin replied.

  That sparked Andrew’s interest again. “What is it?”