My brother Greg said “I’ll organise everything, you just have to come and paddle.” I was persuaded.
After a lift with our dad we launched our canoe just downstream from Yea at 8 am for what Greg had thought would be an 8 hour trip to the Goulburn weir just outside Nagambie.
The forecast for the day was a maximum of forty degrees with a strong cool change in the afternoon.
Between Yea and Seymour the river was fast flowing and we developed a good rhythm. We even had a couple of swims to cool off.
Dad and Greg’s girlfriend, Diedre, were waiting for us on the riverbank just upstream from Seymour. We refused their offer to take us to the other side of town. We didn’t realise just how far it was by river and how much the current drops off. If we thought we were ahead of schedule as we reached Seymour we were definitely behind by the time we got past it.
The change, when it came, was brutal. The temperature dropped 20 degrees, wind whipped up white caps on the water, rain bucketed down and we were treated to a fearsome display of thunder and lightning.
Mum, Dad, Deidre and our younger brother, Russell arrived in Nagambie during the storms and, with no way of getting in touch with us, were understandably worried. Local rangers told them that our trip was often done by groups. It was regarded as a two day trip for experienced canoeists and three days for beginners like us.
At about two o'clock some blokes sheltering under a bridge told us it was about ten miles to Nagambie.
At around 3 o'clock a fisherman told us it was about five miles to Nagambie. We thought we might be back on schedule.
We paddled on through the rain and wind. Each time we rounded a bend all we could see up ahead was another bend.
Our backsides got very sore so to relieve our discomfort we sang any rain song that we could think of. Versions of “Singing In The Rain”, “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” , "Have You Ever Seen The Rain”, “Riders On The Storm” or “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” drifted over the fields.
Just before 8 pm a local canoeist told us it was a mile to Chinaman’s Bridge on the edge of town and to avoid dangerous currents in the weir.
We pulled our canoe up under Chinaman’s Bridge and hitchhiked in the rain and dark.
Almost immediately a young woman picked us up and drove us to the weir, saving us from the cold and our plummeting energy levels.
Our family was so pleased to see us. My room in Melbourne had been locked up all weekend and was like an oven. I threw open the windows, crawled onto my bed and slept.
The next morning my office mate, Mick, announced that his daughter had been born while we were paddling. A momentous day for both our families.
John Holschier
April 2024
After a lift with our dad we launched our canoe just downstream from Yea at 8 am for what Greg had thought would be an 8 hour trip to the Goulburn weir just outside Nagambie.
The forecast for the day was a maximum of forty degrees with a strong cool change in the afternoon.
Between Yea and Seymour the river was fast flowing and we developed a good rhythm. We even had a couple of swims to cool off.
Dad and Greg’s girlfriend, Diedre, were waiting for us on the riverbank just upstream from Seymour. We refused their offer to take us to the other side of town. We didn’t realise just how far it was by river and how much the current drops off. If we thought we were ahead of schedule as we reached Seymour we were definitely behind by the time we got past it.
The change, when it came, was brutal. The temperature dropped 20 degrees, wind whipped up white caps on the water, rain bucketed down and we were treated to a fearsome display of thunder and lightning.
Mum, Dad, Deidre and our younger brother, Russell arrived in Nagambie during the storms and, with no way of getting in touch with us, were understandably worried. Local rangers told them that our trip was often done by groups. It was regarded as a two day trip for experienced canoeists and three days for beginners like us.
At about two o'clock some blokes sheltering under a bridge told us it was about ten miles to Nagambie.
At around 3 o'clock a fisherman told us it was about five miles to Nagambie. We thought we might be back on schedule.
We paddled on through the rain and wind. Each time we rounded a bend all we could see up ahead was another bend.
Our backsides got very sore so to relieve our discomfort we sang any rain song that we could think of. Versions of “Singing In The Rain”, “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” , "Have You Ever Seen The Rain”, “Riders On The Storm” or “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” drifted over the fields.
Just before 8 pm a local canoeist told us it was a mile to Chinaman’s Bridge on the edge of town and to avoid dangerous currents in the weir.
We pulled our canoe up under Chinaman’s Bridge and hitchhiked in the rain and dark.
Almost immediately a young woman picked us up and drove us to the weir, saving us from the cold and our plummeting energy levels.
Our family was so pleased to see us. My room in Melbourne had been locked up all weekend and was like an oven. I threw open the windows, crawled onto my bed and slept.
The next morning my office mate, Mick, announced that his daughter had been born while we were paddling. A momentous day for both our families.
John Holschier
April 2024
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