CRUISES: Houseboating on Lake Powell–a Moment on Golden Pond

Story and photography by
Eric Anderson 

 

We cut the engines and our ten-ton leviathan glides effortlessly into Dangling Rope Marina on Lake Powell.

Our guide on the jetty, catches our rope and makes us fast. She's lived and worked for more than 20 years on the lake—now it's her home more than Nebraska, the land-locked state she's from.

"We're heading for Rainbow Lake," says one of our grandchildren.

“I figured that,” says the guide pumping our gas. "You've got a treat in store for you. All of you," she says, turning to the adults. "Rainbow Bridge is worth seeing if just once in a lifetime. You see it and you say, ‘There must be a God.’”

God's handiwork is all around in Lake Powell, helped perhaps by the 5.37 million cubic yards of concrete that created Glen Canyon Dam in 1983. Built for flood control and hydroelectric power, the lake has fallen repeatedly below its original level because of drought but no one worried about that until recently. In fact some ecologists now feel America’s dams should be removed. There has been concern also that alluvial silt from further upstream might gradually fill in the lake although the experts reckoned the lake would last 771 years. Even then, Rainbow Bridge would still be standing because nature's work tends to last longer than man's.

Each year brings more tourists to Lake Powell, 3 million a year now. They come to see sandstone arches, massive buttes, gigantic mesas, and, if it's been raining, newborn water falls cascading down the canyons—the icing on the cake. The tourists come also to see Anasazi ruins, Ancient One caves, pictographs, petroglyphs, miner's stairs, and the narrow precipitous trail named Hole in the Rock that was blasted down the cliff face by the Mormons in 1880 in order to get their 83 wagons to the river.

Lake Powell, with a coastline longer that the entire west coast of the United States, is the second largest artificial lake in America. It's become a place where people come for peace and soft adventure—a chance for lazy languid sailing 500 feet above what was once the Colorado River. Burning sun bounces off majestic cliffs the color of rust, and cool quiet canyons tower like huge marble walls, translucent in the diffuse scattered light. The night sky is star-studded and luminous.

But people come for excitement too. They roar on jet skis across Wahweap Bay, and hike up near-impossible trails. They come to fish and camp and climb America's Southwest in all its glory, to enjoy a soaked land with names like Butterfly Arch, Music Temple Canyon, Cathedral in the Desert, Padre Bay, Castle Rock, Gunsight Butte, Chuckwalla Springs, Tapestry Wall, and Lost Eden.

Nothing, however, prepares visitors for "the rainbow turned to stone" of the Piutes and Navajos, now Rainbow Bridge National Monument. A sacred place to Native Americans, it was unknown to white men and women until 1909 when archaeologist Byron Cumming and trader John Wetherill organized an expedition with pack mules to try and locate this special canyon mentioned in the native culture. After much hardship, the party got lost, but was later rescued by a young Piute, Nasja Begay. He was the son of the Piute who had first told Wetherill's wife of the stone rainbow. The youth proudly led the party to the place. Rainbow Bridge is the largest natural bridge in the world. It towers, 42 feet thick at its highest point, 275 feet long, 290 feet above its stream bed. A simple half mile path now leads visitors from the Rainbow Bridge marina to the bridge. It's still a desolate spot even today although each month more people come to Rainbow Bridge than were ever able to reach it before Glen Canyon Dam was built. Because it is 3721 feet above sea level, Rainbow Bridge will never be covered by Lake Powell and will always remain the prime attraction in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.

Erosion at Rainbow continues, however: six inches in a thousand years. Thus our Maker carves and adjusts sculptures to the perfection seen at sunset and in the Alpenglow that follows. Then the immense rock formations glow as if lit from within and the clouds get painted with colors that swirl, says writer Susan Keller, "across the sky as if a rainbow had just broken free of its tethers."

Captain’s Log

Checked out of Wahweap Marina with enough supplies to feed the 500. Collected rental sleeping bags and towels. Listened to safety talk while being shown houseboat. Learned most boat-related accidents are due to driving by inexperienced, inattentive, reckless or drunk drivers; and by fatigue; bad weather; and overloading. We're told it's a mistake to come with too much baggage.

Told be sure to read the boat instruction book. Particularly observe the dual tachometers—plan to cruise at around 3200 RPM. Expect to do no more than 10 mph and burn one gallon per mile. Don't leave the marina until you understand the buoy navigation system. If in doubt, ask. Plan the trip sensibly, and don't go too far the first day. If bad weather is expected—and it always comes from the south/southwest quarter—be tied down for the night by 2 PM.

Use the houseboat as your base, and explore further in a power speed boat. Don't spend too much time boating; leave time for hiking and just plain fun. Driving a houseboat is much easier than expected. Docking, however, is always a problem for beginners, and the technique of tying down for the night sounds formidable. Head straight for a sloping sandy beach. Cut engines. Nose in. Run aground. Throw anchors into sand, not water. Oh yes, don't do this with powerboat still in tow!

Distance, 35 miles 1st day. Camped in Padre Canyon, just east of Gunsight Butte. Night turned cold. Sky lit up with so many stars the usually recognizable constellations merged into their neighbors. Next morning, we shook our pontoons loose by reversing alternate engines and by towing with our powerboat rope attached to any houseboat connections we hoped wouldn’t pull off.

Off to Dangling Rope marina for gas, making fewer navigation errors once we realized how vast the scale of Lake Powell was. Left houseboat at Dangling Rope. Continued in powerboat to Rainbow Bridge, a feature that alone made the entire trip worthwhile.

Returned and sought camp in Face Canyon, a canyon wrongly described as having fair campsites. It was also described as "long, grotto-like labyrinth, ending in a slim rift." Sent powerboat on to look for campsite. Juggled engines to stay off rocks and finally managed to reverse on to them with help of a stiff wind. Funny noise! Starboard propeller sounded rough and our wake more turbulent that side. Oh well. Why shouldn't I reverse a houseboat on to a pile of rocks? In 40 years of driving, have reversed into wife's station wagon, partner's new sedan, and son's bicycle.

Found good anchorage beside Dinosaur Rock in mud so soft it felt like quick-sand. Night again cold. Burned one of the heaters with windows slightly ajar and one eye open as if hoping carbon monoxide would somehow be visible. Woke due to loud thumps. Did someone fall from a top bunk? Were we getting California-style plate tectonics in Utah? Had pirates came aboard? Not quite. Just that the mooring on the powerboat had loosened and both boats were banging like castanets. Problem fixed. The night sky aglow made it all worthwhile. Sleep again ensued.

Peaceful easy return, 20 miles to Wahweap Marina while trying to calculate how expensive our turbulent starboard wake would turn out to be.

"Hey, this is just a $23 repair," our check-in boatsman cheerfully told us. "You guys done good. We've had 'em come in with a bare shaft and all three fins of the prop missing. And they wondered why steering was different

They are all cheerful at Wahweap marina. We didn't meet a single staff member who didn't fit in with the so-called Lake Powell Adventure: Scenery a feast for the eyes; experience a rest for the soul—and fun.