Every Yarra Crossing

Ongoing observations from mouth to dam

Watercolour painting of a wooden punt crossing the river carrying a horse and cart with hay and two men on horses.

Punt over the Yarra at Richmond, 1871, Charles Norton

Just shy of a million years ago, the volcanoes north of Narrm produced gentle but unstoppable outflows of molten rock that cut the Yarra’s tail from its mouth. The river flowed on, reaching blindly around the cooled lava, feeling its way back to the bay, an action which shaped the lowest bends of its present course.

When I first arrived here I was enchanted by the waterways threading the city. I commuted along Darebin Creek, a tributary of the Yarra, riding my bike upstream in the crisp morning air, then downstream in the evening. My body floated along the trail as if the lava-lined valley had been carved for the purpose of swooping down its curves at dusk.

To learn about the volcanic plains that spread across western Victoria, I imagined a tour that traced its outline. The final day, which marked the return to the city, began with the ancient vents to the north, then went down Darebin Creek, turning into the streets just before its confluence with the Yarra. I realised that I had to continue where I left off. The silty snake awaited.

Naturally, I began through the lens of a bike ride, designing a route that connects 42 of the Yarra’s bridges, ending with a punt service across the river mouth at dawn. I had in mind the spirit of some fantastic all-night rides I’d done, such as the Newcastle Overnight. But the five-kilometre lockdowns foreclosed such an event, and my desire to visit every crossing morphed from a madcap box-ticking exercise into something a little more reflective.

I decided to only visit one crossing per outing. Sometimes two, when the bridges are very close. Once there I attend closely to what I see and hear and feel. The reports below form a splintered survey of Birrarung, an accumulation of moments by the ever-moving water.

Here are the crossings I’ve visited so far, from mouth to dam. Italics denote those that are inaccessible on foot, meaning I observed them from afar: