“That is something we have been able to do the past couple of years, but normally the river is upside down, flowing high and fast with cold water.

“My forebears were told by Aborigines that the river used to dry up.”

Mr Smithwick said he had wonderful memories of family picnics beside the river, from when he was a child through to now.

He recalled how the family had a favourite picnic spot at the place where he learnt to swim.

Now, more than 50 years later, that spot, and its associated old willow tree, is about 30m from the river itself.

Mr Smithwick said he considered himself to be positive and optimistic about the river.

“I have adapted by attitudes to cope with changes,” he said.

“The Snowy Scheme is one of the greatest assets south-east Australia has and it has caused more good.”

Mr Smithwick said the establishment of gauging stations and associated communications systems as part of the scheme were vital aids to farmers.

“I can get on the phone and find out what is going to happen to the river up to a day away which means I can move stock and take other necessary action.”

Mr Smithwick said a growing number of people were camping along the river.

”The number of people coming up here is a gauge of Australia’s economy.

“We have seen up to 80 camps at Burrowye Reserve, which is opposite our property.

“We are also starting to get a lot of grey nomads; the valley is on their GPS or they have read about the valley, which is still an unknown treasure.”

Mr Smithwick said many people who camped on the river often finished up with a stomach bug.

“In this day and age people are brought up to be so clean and pure in terms of what they eat and drink.

“It is a shame people have to be so careful when they come up here.

“We smile about it when campers and canoeists ask us for water, because our water comes from the river.”

Murray always on the move

THE ability of the Murray River to change its course is evident at “Talmalmo”.

For grazier Vyner Smithwick has seen the spot where he learnt to swim become part of the riparian environment.

He said the spot was shaded by a big old willow tree and the family had often picnicked there — today the river is about 30 metres further south.

Another dramatic example is where the Smithwick family established their first home and farm buildings 140 years ago.

The original homestead, stables, which had already been constructed by earlier occupiers, and a later homestead, all sit above what used to be the river bank. Today the river is many metres further south.

But the most extensive and dramatic example of how the river has changed its course lies at the western end of the property in what is known as the ”island paddock”.

The original course, where the river flowed in close to the hill, is clearly defined by a bank and a line of old river red gums.

The river slowly moved further south and west and it was during that process that Mr Smithwick’s father, Bob, learnt to swim in a backwater under a willow more than 80 years ago.

It had also been a favourite picnic spot for the family and visitors.

“Today the river is 200m from the spot where dad learnt to swim and the only time water goes through there is when we have a big flood,” Mr Smithwick said.

Erosion battle never ending

IT seems that when you live alongside the Murray River, change is constant — usually slow and subtle, but sometimes sudden, violent and expensive.

For Vyner Smithwick and his father, Bob, the fight against bank erosion has been constant and plain hard work.

It is a job that can never be finished because of the relentless forces of water as it pushes its way through the lush river flats of the Upper Murray.

Mr Smithwick said the threat of erosion was greatest when the river flooded; the rushing water would gouge and undermine exposed banks and flood into wombat and rabbit burrows.

He said the removal of snags from the river had increased the speed of the river and had often left banks exposed.

Once the authorities had realised the folly of de-snagging, restoration and protection work had included placing large red gum logs along exposed and damaged areas, planting willows, and placing rock fill along crumbling and threatened banks.

Mr Smithwick said the fight against erosion was ongoing and required regular checks along the entire frontage to the property.

While cattle were the property’s financial backbone, they also put great pressure on the river bank by breaking, trampling and damaging the native riparian environment.

The farmers had worked with Landcare to fence parts of the river to protect native vegetation and the difference was obvious.

But Mr Smithwick believed the most successful bank protection work was carried out by him, his father and his brother, Charlie, more than 30 years ago.

The river, where Mr Smithwick had learnt to swim, had started to chop into a high, exposed bank.

They had cut lengths of willow and poplar branches and then bored a series of five holes from near the top of the bank down to near the water line, inserted the willow and poplar pieces and fixed lengths of wire netting from top to bottom to catch leaves and other debris to slow the flow and allow the seedlings to root.

Some of the wire netting remains today.

This process had been repeated about every 5m for the length of the threatened bank. They had also planted many river red gum seedlings in and along the bank.

The bank is now a profusion of willows, poplars and thriving red gums; a veritable wall of protection during irrigation flows and floods.

Mr Smithwick said he believed the work was a striking example of how willows could protect river banks.

“Potentially we might have lost 30 or 40 acres (8-12ha) in the fullness of time,” he said.

“Nobody likes losing 30 or 40 acres so you do something about it.”

And putting fences along the river proved troublesome as they were vulnerable to flooding.

“You have to be able to afford to replace them or repair them every four or five years,” Mr Smithwick said.

“Willows have done more to keep the river in check than any gums.”

Carp ‘an ecological disaster’ for Murray

AFTER 64 years of life by the Murray River, Vyner Smithwick is emphatic about the cause of the river’s degradation.

“In my mind European carp have been the greatest calamity to hit the river,” he said.

“They have been an ecological disaster.

“The erosion of banks caused by carp sucking mud from the roots of trees is so evident.”

Mr Smithwick, the fourth generation Smithwick to farm “Talmalmo” between Jingellic and Wymah, said the problems caused by carp were even more evident in lagoons along the river flats.

“We have only one lagoon that is still anything like what we used to take for granted.

“There used to be masses of water weed around the edges and it is finally coming back to some semblance of what it used to be because about 2000 was the last time carp were able to get into it. All the lagoons are dirty and have no weed.

“Also, the banks are now sharp drop-offs whereas before the carp came along they used to slope gently into the lagoon.

“The mud has been sucked away by carp, tree roots have been exposed and the trees have fallen in.

“The same situation applies to the river to some extent — the carp have speeded up the erosion process.

“They have ruined the micro-climate of the river.

“The evidence of their impact is two of our dams which are just metres apart. The one without carp is pristine, the other is dirty and degraded.”

Mr Smithwick thought the ecology and the fish were adapting to changed river patterns caused by the Snowy Mountains Scheme and cold, fast summer flows, and the arrival of European carp.

“It seems things have balanced out a little,” he said.

“I have noticed a distinct drop in carp numbers.”