A Canoeist plunged but I fumbled

Turpins Falls on the Campaspe River near the central Victoria town of Kyneton (83 kilometres/52 miles north from Melbourne) offers a plunge of 27 metres/88 feet into a relatively deep pool at its basalt base.

Following a tip I gleaned by overhearing a conversation in a Bookstore in Kyneton where I was spending obscene amounts of loot, I scurried off to see these once in a decade overflowing Falls. I was not the least disappointed, considering the last time I came this way about 6 years ago you could walk up to the rock ledge under the Falls and fill a glass, slowly, with the then very thin volume of water that dripped over its lip. Even the waterhole below the Falls, at that time, was brackish and uninviting.

The Campaspe River which feeds the Falls was so named in 1836 by the moody but hardy Scots born Explorer, Sir Thomas Mitchell (1792-1855 ) after a mistress of Alexander the Great (356BC-323BC) renowned for her alluring beauty. Flowing northwards from its rise near the tiny town of Bullengarook in the Great Dividing Range north of Melbourne before its confluence with the Murray River, the Campaspe is one of Victoria's major waterways. Formed over a million years ago resulting from weak spots from lava flows from the not too distant volcanic outlets of Mount Macedon 1,001 metres/3,284 feet (another peak named by Sir Thomas imbued with Greek origins) plus supported at the time by smaller flows from Hanging Rock 718 metres/2,356 feet and Camel's Hump 1,011 metres/3,317 feet - both olden volcanic plugs.

A track closed sign was warning plodders like me - do not venture down yonder to the River below the Falls, least you plunge yourself to become ill of limb and body. However, as I took some photographs from the finely placed lookout above the Falls I saw an elderly couple, with their yapping fox terrier trundling up the 'forbidden' track. Well, bugger that I thought, if these ancients with their dog can do this then surely even I could manage. Off I went and 10 minutes later I was beside the turbulent flows of the Campaspe swollen by recent rainfalls. Though no gorgeous Greek mistress was to be seen for me to fall in love with and I did 'earnestly' look for some magical water nymph coming out from the misty veils to greet me with a lusty look. Exploring, carefully if somewhat crestfallen, I fired off plenty and more photographs, looking for that 'just right angle' but not finding one I was 'happy' with, though the light was against me in a sense of coming into the camera rather from behind or across. Taking a breather I sat on a large boulder facing the Falls, munching away on a chocolate bar, as you do, when to my amazement I spotted an orange canoe slip over the far left cascade of the Falls and in a second or two smack into the pool below the Falls. I was so astonished I clipped the camera off its tripod but failed to press the shutter button at the right time! Rats! Then, when I gained my poise and tried again this time with the Canoeist awash in the waterhole the bloody battery was flat - some of us never learn, when the little battery light starts flashing change the battery or you might miss on a photographic moment when you least wish to miss one. I missed. Too, I was alarmed that the Canoeist may have suffered an injury as I thought this bloke's stuffed this up by not realising he was about to plunge over the Falls. However, he soon appeared, still inside his now upright canoe, thoroughly soaked and hooping and hollerin' with delight gesturing to his girlfriend perched up at the Lookout, who I later discovered was filming his exploit. As he left the River, I approached him to make sure he was alright - he was - and I just had to shake his hand recognising his 'achievement'. What a buzz, I thought, must try this myself and it is now on the must do List. I had a very funny chat with the Canoeist whilst he waited for his screaming with delight girlfriend to join him. In essence he had been waiting for the right moment to do this for years and it just happened today was that day. He was 'sorry' that I had missed a photo but the marvellous vista of the Falls more than made up for my lapse of concentration.

As I slipped and scrambled my way back up from the base of the Falls, smiling and yet another wonderful vista, I was reminded too of the poem about Campaspe by the early English Poet, John Lyly (1553-1606:

"Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kiss'd - Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes,
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall (alas!) become of me?"