Blanchetown on the Murray with Keith Conlon: In the Riverland region of South Australia
The traffic on the Sturt Highway usually flies over the bridge across the River Murray with hardly a glance to the tiny town of Blanchetown below. But for this Postcards adventure, we decided to take the detour off the highway to get to know the town the locals affectionately call Blanche. It was a town once pencilled in for greatness but something went terribly wrong. But these days Blanche has something of greater value - location!
It’s all about being on the river of course and it has been ever since the site for Blanchetown was first chosen 150 years ago. Named after the Governor’s wife, Lady Blanche McDonnell, it was to be the ‘transport hub’ of the mighty waterway. It would link three states in the booming paddle-steaming days to come.
That was the plan anyway!
Blanchetown wasn’t the first settlement on the river. That was at Moorundie, about 6 kilometres further down river - now part of Portee Station.
These days corellas infest the land taken up by explorer, Edward John Eyre in 1841. He was appointed ‘Protector of Aborigines’ and successfully managed to quell rising tensions between the traditional owners and the overlanders and settlers.
There’s no sign of his cottage, the old courthouse or barracks at Moorundie today but you do get a sense of what it must have been like.
For all its beauty though, Moorundie was on a floodplain so was eventually abandoned in favour of Blanchetown.
Upstream, high on the banks overlooking the river, the signs were good. The pub went up the in the 1850s - built of local cliff stone and red gum of course. It became a popular watering hole for the thirsty travellers on the ‘Sydney Road’. The Police Station and Troopers Barracks were well sited to keep an eye on the passing overlanders and river traffic below.
Further up the hill you’ll find the grand Post Office and Telegraph Station. It was the town’s first official building and shows there were big plans in 1865. But according to Modern day postmistress, Denise Hassett, it was supposed to be the Railway Station!
“They had to apply to England for public buildings,” explained Denise, “and by the time they got the approval back for the building, the government of the day had commissioned the railway to go to Melbourne and to Murray Bridge.”
The decision to send the trains across the river way downstream was the first major blow to Blanchetown’s delusions of grandeur. Than another - a rail link to the new port of Morgan upstream.
Still, Blanchetown hung on to watch the thriving paddlesteamer era frustrated by the river drying up in droughts or flooding all before it in winter - including the many pioneer irrigation settlements that were also at its mercy.
The PS Industry spent its working life on the solution - a series of locks and weirs to control the flow. The first was Blanche’s second chance of greatness - Lock Number One.
The South Australian government planned the scheme in the 1880s but decades of inter-colonial squabbling meant the foundation stone wasn’t laid until 1915 and it took another seven years after that to complete.
By then it was too late - the railways had killed any river trade the locals were hoping for. Blanche had missed the proverbial boat again and through no fault of her own she was reduced to little more than a river ferry crossing.
Today the abandoned ferry approaches make good fishing spots but for decades they funneled the increasing interstate traffic between Adelaide, the Riverland and Sydney.
Waiting times for the two ferries became legendary. In the 1950s queues on the Easter Weekend were 4 hours long and the local Lock View Café and the rest of the town did a roaring trade.
The locals also tell the story about the time a big Tintara wine tanker took the ferry. It got a wobble up, the tank was pierced - out poured the wine and down came half the townsfolk with buckets. One wag also reckons the Murray Cod looked shickered for days!
The old highway is quiet these days - the café’s a private house, and on the other side of the river, a once- busy servo is now the Burk Salter Winery and B & B.
The lock’s still the town’s main landmark though. Irrigators are now guaranteed a supply of water and the pelicans and their mates fly in for a spot of fishing.
The river traffic’s coming back too - but the boats aren’t carrying wool or wheat - tourists make up today’s cargo on the likes of the Proud Mary, which is a regular visitor to the town.
Fifty years ago, the lock was down to only a couple of boats a week. These days more than thirty pass through - mainly houseboats.
The road traffic’s busier too - but there’s no waiting for the ferry any more. The bridge built in the 1960s threatened to kill the town again - but Blanche managed to hang on.
“Now we’re seeing an influx of people again,” said Denise. “They come to experience the river - whether it’s fishing or skiing or houseboating. The bridges could have meant the end of Blanchetown - that was predicted but it hasn’t happened.”
By the time the second higher bridge was built in 1998 it was all about preserving the lazy, laid-back reputation Blanchetown had nurtured. The shacks - some grand and others not quite, the houseboats, caravans and cabins - it’s all good.
Blanchetown is 133 kilometres northeast of Adelaide, on the Sturt Highway. The locals have produced a useful booklet and heritage guide. You can pick one up from Denise at the Post Office or the local deli.
