Riding the Red Hen: The Cockle Train

The Cockle train runs on what was the first public, iron railed railway line in Australia, and the first railway venture in the state of South Australia.  It was built in 1854 to provide an outlet for the river Murray  and included the construction of a jetty and breakwater at Port Elliot, and a deep railway cutting out to the Port Elliot Jetty.

Nowadays the only trade is tourists, and you even get a souvenir ticket!  Yay.

There was a major flaw in the whole plan, unfortunately, and that was that Port Elliot rapidly became known more for sinking ships than welcoming them to safe haven, and this was not good business for a port. After losing seven ships between 1853 and 1864 the port facilities relocated to Victor Harbor and no-one went to Port Elliot any more.  Which is a little bit beside the point, because the railway line was still used, with power being provided by horses until steam was introduced in 1884, probably to the great relief of the horses.

Sadly, the steam train was not working on the day we caught the Cockle train after riding our bikes from Goolwa.  Instead we got to ride the Red Hen, which was the name given to the red diesel-powered rail cars which ran on South Australian railways in the 1960s, 70s, and 80s.

We parked our bikes in the luggage car and jumped into the frontest seats we could get, right up next to the driver, to get the best possible view.  

There were a few spare seats.

 

"Don't talk to the driver" said the very large sign on the open door to the driver's compartment.  So we didn't.  So I can't tell you the answers to any of the questions which I couldn't ask.

 

In order to leave the station we had to wait for the only manually operated gates in the state to be opened/closed to let us through. The gates had been kept as a nod to the line's heritage and we waited patiently as a young fella ambled up to the gates, gently shooed the traffic away, and carefully latched them open across the road.  And then we were off!

We rattled happily back along the top of the cliffs, past a new batch of surfers paddling in chocolate milk, past my friend the metal cow, and along the river to Goolwa. 

 

Best train views ever.

A single pelican sat out on the jetty as we rolled in to Goolwa.

 

The morning's warm northern breeze had been replaced by a brisk southerly and, no longer reflecting the sky, the choppy river revealed its true chocolate colours. As we pedaled the last three km back to the car a sailing boat worked its way downwind in the evening, a fitting end to a very good day.

And why, you might ask, is it called the Cockle Train?  Well, that's because giant cockle shells could be found on the wide beaches around Goolwa, and the train was used by fishermen and families coming to the beach to hunt for cockle shells.  One thing led to another and the name just stuck, even if no one catches the train to hunt for cockles any more.