Canberra was in lockdown for about two months during 2021 but with the easing of restrictions it was time to head back to the coast to see some different scenery. I thought that it would be nice to return to Durras Lake for a kayak and to see what wildlife I could find to photograph. I like Durras Lake because it is shallow so I can enjoy looking at what is beneath me, and it has some flooded terrain where is it is nice to glide through in a kayak. I was hoping to see some nice things to photograph as well as to use my underwater camera housing. I was not disappointed in either case with a number of birds around and the water temperature making snorkelling pleasant. The trip was a wonderful way to mark the end of lockdown with some beautiful natural things to see. I hope that you like the photographs below.
The route that I took on the day
The approximately 3 square kilometres of Durras Lake are relatively shallow, with many areas appearing to be shallow enough to stand in. The estuarine lake is intermittently closed to the sea at is its north-east end between North and South Durras. Indeed, at present the lake is closed with the water being brackish and there appeared to be algal like weeds growing in the shallower parts. It is fed by three creeks, Cumbralaway Creek to the north-west, Benandarah Creek in south-west and Bridge Creek in the south. More about that last creek further down. One of the wonderful aspects of the lake was that it is surrounded by bush reserve except at its mouth where there are the small townships of North and South Durras. The bush was mainly preserved because the area forms part of the Murramarang National Park. The protection of this ecosystem is vital because it is one of the last remaining unspoilt estuarine lake ecosystems in this part of NSW. In addition, the wetlands and salt marshes within the lake are vital breeding and feeding areas for water birds and marine creatures. Fortunately, this preserved natural beauty is a wonderful place for people to visit to enjoy this environment to the fullest.
On the morning that I arrived there was a boat that had just launched from the boat ramp at South Durras, but not much other activity. The wind was blowing reasonably fresh, causing wavelets, and the sun was still fighting with some clouds to break through. Despite the wind, I had committed to launching, which I did after quickly loading my trusty kayak with the things I wanted to use that day.
Panorama view from the boat ramp at South Durras
(Apple iPhone 8 [ISO 20, 3.99mm, f/1.8 and 1/1000 SEC])
From the boat ramp I paddled north-east towards the closed mouth of the lake just over a kilometre away. The wind was behind me, making the paddling easier. It was also nice just to be out on the lake in my kayak, enjoying the costal wetlands habitat I was moving past. Gazing down thought the water to see the occasional fish dart underneath me or small mud crawler shells on the bottom.
The first wildlife that I was able to photograph were two Australian White Ibis (Threskiornis molucca) juveniles that were searching the eastern side of the lake for food. These distinct black and white birds were searching in an inundated area where clumps of vegetation were isolated by shallow water. I could not see any adult birds, just these two juveniles, which were clearly juveniles because of the mottled colouring on their necks where the black had not quite pushed out the white. Every now and then their curved, black beaks would peck into the water before withdrawing with droplets of water falling back down. While this species of bird has garnered negative attention in some Australian cities because of their aggressive scavenging of human supplied food, and may appear to be present in strong numbers, in their native environment they seem to be declining. It was therefore good to see a new generation at the lake and apparently contented to feed on a natural food supply.
Australian White Ibis juvenile searchingly for food
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 500, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
Slightly later in the morning when the pair were on the other side of the lake
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/640 SEC])
Continuing to the north-east the water became shallower on the eastern side of the lake around the sandy spit that now closed off the lake. The sand had closed it off in mid-2020. possibly as low, El Nino-induced rain levels meant that there was not enough ‘push’ from the lake to fight against the wind and wave action moving sand into the mouth of the inlet. These closings are perennial and either re-open naturally or the council may re-open the lake if the lake’s health requires it. The closing of the lake effects the ecosystem in several ways. The water in the lake will decrease in salinity becoming brackish due to the creeks continuing to carry freshwater into the lake. This will challenge some saltwater species and their tolerances of the salinity level. The lake also stopped being tidal, which impacts the rise and fall of the lake surface along with the ability of the lake to flush itself out with new saltwater. These are just some of the challenges to the lake’s precious ecosystem.
A man walking across the sand where the lake used to empty
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 250, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/500 SEC])
The sand that used to be covered by the lake when it responded to tidal movements still looked like it was waiting for the tide to return. The flat sand was a slightly different colour to the dry sand, it was also covered in the detritus that the moving tides had deposited there when they stil covered it in a daily cycle.
Three Australian Pelicans (Pelecanus conspicillatus), an adult and two juveniles birds were standing in the area. The adult cast a large dark eye in my direction before it returned to the important daily ritual of preening to keep its feathers healthy. The two juvenile birds mainly kept their heads on their backs with the necks bending out to the front like some weird outgrowth. The presence of juveniles showed that some breeding had occurred but these were the only pelicans that I saw on a lake that a few years ago may have held more fish for a higher humber of pelicans.
Australian pelican preening itself on an exposed sandbank
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/500 SEC])
Two juvenile pelicans with their heads down and the curve of the neck poling out of the front
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/500 SEC])
Just nearby the pelicans there was a group of Crested Terns (Thalasseus bergii), both adults and juveniles. The adults looked somewhat sinister with their dark black crowns, like a group of hoodlums conspiring about their next criminal activity. The wind was whipping across the water a bit at that stage, blowing the plumage of the birds and grounding my kayak giving me a stable platform for photography. The birds were mainly preening their feathers, poking their long yellow bills among the shafts and using the water for a wash. The water was shallow, allowing them to easily stand. In the group a juvenile was doing a great job of bathing and I managed to shoot some pictures while it was almost pointing directly at me.
Crested Terns in the shallow water on a windy day
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/500 SEC])
Juvenile tern bathing
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/500 SEC])
Among the group of Crested Terns there was at least one Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia), easily differentiated because of its red bill. The bird was on the edge of the group but keeping a little distance. I only noticed one of this species but I may have missed others. This is the largest species of tern. It is not usually present in large numbers, preferring coastal areas but able to live in fresh or brackish water environments.
A Caspian Tern
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/500 SEC])
I spent a little time at the enclosed mouth of the lake, enjoying the birdlife as well as looking at the mud crawler shellfish moving along the bottom. It was nice to sit in shallow water with the kayak barely off the bottom and the water warming nicely in the morning sun. However, I wanted to keep exploring so I started to paddle back along the lake. The western side of the lake was nicely forested with the lake’s water inundating the land a little, allowing me to paddle into shallower water while looking down at vegetation in the water.
A telegraph pole rose out of an inundated area, strange in its watery base, linked to a line of poles running back through a clear section of the forest. Just beyond that flooded land the water was slightly deeper, making a channel for the occasional power boat that used the lake.
The deeper water was also the habitat for cormorants, including four Little Black Cormorants (Phalacrocorax sulcirostris) that flew onto a group of dead trees. Because these birds are very good swimmers they would find the brackish, deeper water in this area the ideal environment to hunt for fish, crustaceans and other small animals. While I didn’t see them hunting least one bird was drying its wings. Unfortunately, I was on the wrong side of them from where the sun was so that these black birds had the sun behind them so their bodies were in shadow.
Two Little Black Cormorants in a dead tree
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/640 SEC])
Not very far away a lone Little Pied Cormorant perched on a bit of wood that jutted out of the lake’s surface a short way. The cormorant appeared to be gazing across the water looking for food. A bit further on a second Little Pied Cormorant was high up in a dead tree, likewise looking at the surface of the lake, giving the appearance of a creature hunting for its next meal. A photograph of the second cormorant is at the top of this blog post. These birds are equally at home in fresh and salt water while living a predominantly solo life until the breeding season when they may come together in colonies.
Little Pied Cormorant using a conveniently placed piece of wood
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/640 SEC])
After the cormorants I paddled north-west up the channel, slipping through some raised areas of salt marsh, the past a more substantial small island with several established trees in to the main part of the lake. My route then took me due south when I entered the inlet that had Bridge Creek at the end.
Nearing the end of the inlet where Bridge Creek flowed into the lake I noticed a clump of Casuarina Trees, which were on the edge of the lake, and appeared to have the lichen stopping at a distinct line almost a metre up from the lake surface. I wondered if that distinct line told a tale of the lake’s water level when it was still tidal. If the tide would push the water that far up the trees, with the salty water preventing the growth of the terrestrial lichen any further down the trunk. Looking at the photographs during processing, I realised that I failed to notice on the day what could have been barnacles on the trees. You can see them in the photograph on the lower parts of the tree where the bark exposes the wood underneath. I wished that I had noticed them when I actually took that photograph so that I could have confirmed their presence and seen how dry they were.
Casuarina trees with water marks and possibly dead barnacles
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 640, 100mm, f/8.0 and 1/320 SEC])
While I did not check those possible barnacles on a tree I felt I had good evidence of the change in the lake’s hydro movements a bit further on. Bridge Creek flowed into the lake through three concrete, circular culverts. These culverts added to the story of the lake through the remnants of the lake level visible on them. To get to South Durras cars have to travel over this culvert, little appreciating what it can tell about the changes to the ecosystem. There were distinct brownish bands along its concrete that indicated where the surface of the lake was in the past. The land vegetation growing under the height of the highest markings indicated that the salt water of the lake was no longer rising as far up as it once did. Paddling into the tunnel I found more evidence to support the absence of salt water movement because the culverts inner walls were covered with the dried white cases of marine worms and barnacles, as can be seen in the bottom photograph. In my mind this meant that in the past there had been enough salt water flushing through these tunnels to support marine filter feeders, where as now the water no longer even covered them. Bridge Creek was deep on the inland side of the culvert, deeper than I could reach with my paddle almost completely pushed underwater to find the bottom of the creek, but the water was not flowing. Just beyond the culvert there were trees in the water that meant that the depth there was much shallower. The creek was now very clogged so while the water could still flow it did not appear to have created much of a channel.
It was a bit of a challenge to turn the kayak around in the confined space beyond the culvert because of the plant matter floating on the water and the proximity of the trees but I managed to do it without too much of a struggle. I then paddled back out to the lake side to continue my trip.
Vacationer crossing a culvert, which tells the story of the lake’s fate
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 250, 100mm, f/9.0 and 1/320 SEC])
Dried barnacle surrounded by dead marine worms on the culver’s wall
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 250, 100mm, f/9.0 and 1/320 SEC])
I paddled back along the inlet and then into the neighbouring inlet. The creek that was present at the end of this inlet was more of a soak than a creek and it did not make it as far back to the road. Following the inlet around I was headed back to the centre of the lake. The wind had picked up again with the wavelets coming at me. However, it was nice being in a natural lake, rather than Lake Burley Griffin which is surrounded along a good length by constructed straight sides. Those perpendicular sides reflect any waves in the lake back out, creating a confusing chop that criss-crosses parts of the lake. The natural slope of the shore on Durras Lake simply absorbed the wavelets making for a far more enjoyable paddle.
I came across a pair of Black Swans (Cygnus atratus), being wild and unaccustomed to humans they kept their distance. Another pair that I had seen laboriously took to the wing upon my approach, even though there was possibly still a good 30 metres between us. These birds predominately feed on vegetation so this shallow lake probably meant they had a good supply to reach with their long necks.
Black Swan swimming in lake
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 200, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/400 SEC])
Coming around the point between the inlets I also noticed an adult White-bellied Sea-eagle (Haliaeetus leucogaster) surveying its domain from a high branch. This representative of Australia’s second largest raptor species was perched quietly on one leg in the shade of the canopy. My movements below it while I tried to position myself for a photograph did not seem to worry it, it stayed still on the branch, hardly bothering to glance in my direction. The bird did not seem to be very active so it may have not been hunting for food for young birds, despite it being towards the end of the breeding season. The slightly mottled brown on the front of its belly may indicate that the bird was not fully mature and was carving out territory for itself.
White-bellied Sea-eagle in a tree
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 400, 400mm, f/8.0 and 1/640 SEC])
I an always thrilled to see Australia’s large raptors, even perched on a distant branch they never fail to inspire a sense of awe because of the power they can wield with their massive beak and talons. It was a lovely sight to see before I started my paddle back to a shallow channel between a small island and the shore. The channel I had in mind appeared to be reasonably shallow with a sandy bottom. I figured that the light coloured bottom would help reflect light making it easier to take underwater photographs.
Upon reaching the area I couldn’t find any convenient, completely dry land so I forced the kayak into some reeds, exiting it between the clumps. The water was just the right temperature, feeling refreshing against my skin. It had been a long time since I had felt water that was not cold to the touch. I removed my personal flotation device (life jacket) and spray skirt, although taking a spray skirt off in the water probably required a degree of gracefulness I was incapable of. I also quickly prepared the underwater housing and put my face mask on. I decided against using fins because I thought they would just stir up the already cloudy water and it was shallow enough for me to stand very comfortably so I did not really require them.
Hopping into the water, it took me only a few seconds to adjust to the temperature, which was very pleasant once I was immersed in the lake. However, I was disappointed with the visibility, the wind was agitating the water which in turn was stirring up particles of silt and sand clouding up the water.
I moved to a spot where I thought that I may be able to attempt an over-under shot with a tree but the water was too cloudy. However, almost as soon as I stopped moving a shrimp attached itself to my leg. I am sorry that the photograph is so bad but I did not even know it was a shrimp initially. I felt something on my leg, looked down and thought some weed had caught itself on my leg hair. I took a picture from the surface to see if I could make out what it was but the camera could not quite focus on it. (Only later did I think that I should have tried to raise my leg upwards to the surface to make the shrimp easier to photograph.) It was only when I put my finger down to touch the crustacean and the speck moved to a different part of my leg did I realise that it was an animal. I wondered if it was going to clean my leg because I did not feel any vindictive spikes thrust into my skin to show that it was annoyed with me.
A very bad image of the shrimp that went immediately to my leg
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF16-35mm f/4L IS USM [ISO 500, 32mm, f/8.0 and 1/250 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
I also began to notice what I think were a large number of Pacific Blue-eyes (Pseudomugil signifer). An amazing little native fish that live in freshwater to saltwater environments through adjusting its swim bladder. The clear bodies probably indicated that these were still immature fish, although they will not grow much larger, with a full size adult reaching around 6-8 cm. These fish feed on insects that fall into the water or insect larvae. When I finally stopped moving they all gathered around my legs like a menacing group of piranhas. I was almost waiting for them to charge in at me. I wondered if my sudden entry into the water then pausing mimicked a tree falling with a feed of insects. These fish are under threat from the introduced Mosquito Fish that can also live in this sort of brackish enviornemnt. The easy way to distinguish the two species is that Pacific Blue-eyes have a pronounced forked tail while the Mosquito Fish’s tail curves out like a fan.
Pacific Blue-eye
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF16-35mm f/4L IS USM [ISO 500, 32mm, f/8.0 and 1/250 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
Another marine creature that was prevalent in the lake was the common Jelly Blubber (Catostylus mosaicus). These were present in numbers and they may have been responding to the change in the lake’s ecosystem. Because the lake was now shut to the sea, these jellyfish were not coming in from outside but their numbers may have been growing because there were more nutrients in the water providing them more food. The lake has three freshwater streams that drain into the lake, two of which flow through some light agricultural areas and of course the shallow lake waters will also breed algae in hot, cloudless weather. The relationship between jellyfish blooms and increased nutrients is not a direct one but proves the usefulness of the word ‘system’ in ecosystem. The increase in nutrients can cause an increase in the small animals that the Jelly Blubber feeds on. The Jelly Blubber is better able to compete with fish in this environment because often the nutrients also reduce the oxygen in the water making it harder for fish to survive. So, in this enclosed marine habitat the sign of a number of Jelly Blubbers, particularly small ones that indicated that new generations were growing was a sign that the ecosystem may not have been in great health.
Jelly Blubber
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF16-35mm f/4L IS USM [ISO 500, 32mm, f/8.0 and 1/250 SEC] in an Aquatech Elite II sport housing and PD-140 Lens Port)
I enjoyed the time in the water, although it was not a great place to practice underwater photography due to the sediment levels but it was so relaxing being in the water. Returning to my kayak I did not bother drying off, I knew that the weather would do that for me. I sampled stored my camera gear as well as my mask before hopping back into my watercraft. The wind was against me for the paddle back to the launching spot but the gusts were just strong enough to make it fun without making it too hard.
Because I was enjoying the dayI did not want the paddle to finish but I knew that it would when I reached the shore. The grounding of the kayak on the musty shored told me that my paddle was now complete. Looking up I could see that the carpark now was almost full and most of the vehicles bore the distinct blue and white Canberra license plate that always starts with a Y. Somewhat reluctantly I unpacked my things from the kayak before placing my trusty blue friend on the roof racks for the trip back home. Despite my reluctance, I was in a bit of a rush because I was trying to get the car back to my wife so that she could use it later that day. However, I figured that I still had just under 30 minutes, just enough time to try my luck around the ocean-fronting rocks.
After changing and sorting out what camera gear I would use, I drove the short distance to the rocky point at South Durras. From the car park I clambered down an unofficial path that lead to the exposed rock platform with the waves washing onto its edges. A group of fishers were casting into the moderate waves of the afternoon swell as the low tide was slowly, imperceptibly coming in. I scanned for crabs but there seemed to be none around, maybe the waves were just too rough for them on this exposed rocky shore. I did, however, find some ever reliable shellfish to act as photo subjects.
Waves on the rocks at South Durras
(Canon EOS 7D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/9.0 and 1/320 SEC])
Although Blue Periwinkles (Austrolittorina unifasciata) are incredibly common around this part of Australia, I still love photographing them because of their colour and texture, as well as the way they group together to preserve moisture. They are beautiful little shells that seem to do their best to avoid being marine by sometimes existing well above the high tide line. They eat algae and other small plants on the rocks, by using their radula, a tongue equivalent, that is roughened like a file so that they can scour those foodstuffs off the hard surface.
Blue Periwinkles on a rock
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f/2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/11 and 1/160 SEC])
There was also a Striped-mouth Conniwink (Bembicium nanum) just under a small rock ledge. These shells are wider than they are taller and their name is very apt given the stripes on them. Of interest, there is debate among marine biologists as to what the colouration of shells is for. It is not for mating, these shells are effectively blind. It is not for camouflage, because straight lines tend to stand out and the hard shell is a more effective form of protection for this animal. Some scientists postulate that they stripes could be to help the shell detect at what stage of growth it it s at and where it needs to continue adding to the shell. Just one of nature’s mysteries.
Striped-mouth Conniwink
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100mm f/2.8L Macro IS USM [ISO 100, 100mm, f/11 and 1/100 SEC])
After that quick stop at the shore and a long moment spent gazing at the marine environment I was back in the car and heading home. It had been another great day at the coast wth the weather being better than it had on my previous trip to Durras Lake. While the was long I loved the chance to get back down to the special environment. The lake’s ecosystem was no doubt changing but it was interesting seeing how some animals, such as the dried barnacles, lost out, while others, like the Jelly Blubber, were thriving. Nature is complex and I could see how it could adapt but I suspected that there was a breaking point that I hoped that the lake would never reach.
Thanks for reading this post and thanks also for looking at my photos. I hope you come back again to read more about some of the wonderful natural things that the Australian Capital Territory and the surrounding regions have on offer. All the best until the next post.