The last time we paddled this part of the coast was four years ago with the West End Club. A medley of 10 kayaks left from the sandy beach next to the boat ramp at Paradise Point. Car parking around the boat ramp was at a premium and some cars had to be left on a local street. After a week of unsettled stormy weather it was a beautiful day. There was a steady breeze from the NE and boats were out and about aplenty.
Heading upstream on an incoming 2.6m tide we just cleared the rocky weir on Coombabah Creek before heading right into Saltwater Creek. While the intrusiveness of the locals on the landscape continues unabated, the houses along Saltwater Creek eventually succumb to mangroves and grassy banks. A surprising number of
bird of prey were seen both nesting and circling overhead in this area as well as up the north arm of the Coomera River.
The tide was running in strongly so it didn't take long to reach the rail bridge over the river at Monterey Keys. With the addition of the railway line the boat ramp is now on the left bank where a tree trunk looked more like a bizarre man made totem than a testament to the industrious work of termites. We got out on the opposite bank with the toilet block and a couple of picnic benches. Morning tea was a right little banquet with freshly made hummingbird cake (Carol), chocolate muffins (Kimberley) and a beesting (Ted) carved up for ogling eyes and willing participants. We even cut a piece for you Tom. The people fishing from the bank pulled in a pan sized bream and a small feisty mud crab.
Back on the water we passed under the road bridge with perpetual road works and headed towards Sanctuary Cove. The latest houses look like they have another wing and you can have any colour so long as it is sandstone. The lawns were green, duranta and
Lillypilly hedges immaculate. The houses became progressively larger culminating in what looked like the Italian Embassy. Sitting a prominent position this monstrosity was fronted by a single row of those curved concrete pillars you often see painted white as a feature spanning the brick arches across the balcony on the upper story of double brick homes from the 1970s. Heading downstream the boat traffic became very Gold Coast - big, loud and fast kicking up plenty of chop. Stan didn't seem too bothered
by the size and speed of the opposition and continued to paddle
along in the middle. Maybe he just didn't see them.
Just past the entrance to Sanctuary Cove we slid onto a small beach on Coomera Island for lunch as we were uncertain as to the likelihood of other options. As a National Park it is out of reach of the agents but not spared of rubbish. Lunch was in the open and chairs definitely the go as the dry looking patch chosen for lunch was rocky. A defiantly lavender house with a bright purple fence and three dolphins painted on the fascia sat across the river from where we had lunch. The watermelon proved a bit of a challenge to get through and suggestions made as to alternative use for jet skiers or some of the enormous private cruisers that you couldn't miss whatever their speed.
By now the wind was a fresh NE and it was a bit of a pull up the north arm of the Coomera River. Birds of prey had taken up residence in one of the two purpose built platforms. Jet skiers played in the wash of the big boys while houseboats did sitting duck impressions in the middle of the channel. The river opened out to the Broadwater just north of an oyster lease. A rocky shoal extending north of this lease tingled the Raider's rudder. We grouped up again before heading south with the sails up.
Turning back inland past the Sovereign Islands one boat turned
the area into a surf beach sending the fleet of sails bobbing. I went behind a monster launch 'Aussie Battler' as it looked like he was about to do battle with a sand bar. After running aground he thought better of it, shoved it in reverse and
came my way. 'Aussie Battler' my arse - more like 'Bloody Idiot'.
By now the outgoing tide was running strongly and the last 1km was a bit of a slug for those without sails. The morning tea saw us through with calories to spare and a set new standard of catering for day paddles. As for the boat traffic it is just as noisy, intrusive, flashy and stupid as ever, but then again this is the Gold Coast.
