Lake Powell Part 7 of 10

LAKE POWELL 2001 EPIC

DeRay, Jeanette, Ed, Amy, & K’Leena

August 20-25, 2001

The storm hit after dinner and “Origins” on the top deck.

We watched the lightning in the south,

then east,

finally surrounding us.

We let the air out of the air mattress.

Gathered everything in

just as a boisterous thundershower

pelted and roared--

an especially close thunder clap

scared us silly--

as we played Yahtzee, then OH, Heck

feigning bravery.

At 11 PM, Amy & K’Leena

climbed the rock slide in the

darkness and rain,

to shine their lights on the

waterfall from the sheer cliffs above,

which we could hear but could not see from

inside the houseboat.

We had left our raincoats in the van

so Amy put on a garbage sack,

also, her wet shoes from jumping in the lake

to save the engines

when we were drifting towards shore

harboring unforgiving boulders

and Dad couldn’t get the motors started.

While the girls were gone,

I had to move from the back bed

because it was raining there.

DeRay knew the window

should have been replaced.

During the night sometimes

stars would be shining,

then it would rain again

with thunder and lightning.

What a night

—secure in our little houseboat

that didn’t rock that much

as it has in other storms--

It didn’t come unanchored either.  

DeRay & Ed

 Drifting off to sleep,

we talked about “if the dam broke”

83 miles down stream.

Would the houseboat be beached

or pulled down with the rushing waters?

Would we be stranded halfway up the mountain

with sheer cliffs above and below?

Would the Indians gallop up on horseback

gallantly rescuing us?

Could we float on the air mattresses

to the river,

then hike 20 miles to Bullfrog

if we didn’t take Ed?

We’d send a helicopter for him.

You’d like that, huh, Ed?

I sort of hope the weather behaves

for the rest of the trip.

Ed
I think Ed may have had something to do with the storm.

He persistently said,

“I hope it rains.  We need the moisture.”

“Ed, rocks don’t need moisture.

The paltry green things survive.

They just do.”

It takes awhile to re-learn to relax—to not look at your watch.

What does it matter what time it is? 

Captain Ed on duty

“Where Can I Turn for Peace?  Where is my solace?”

Lake Powell, Emma Lou.  Lake Powell--.

in the early morning after a

spectacular thunder/lightning storm

throughout the night

thoroughly washed every rock and

blade of brave green shrub

clean.

The sky will be blue.

The storm is over.

The magnificent washing machine

is through its cycle

until it’s turned on again.

It’s sheer silence and splendor.

Refreshing;

this beautiful morning.

Peace.

DeRay & Jeanette

à

Before the storm hit

a bat nose diving for me

in the kitchen

provided entertainment.

“DeRAY!  DeRAY! A bat is out to get me!”

Down deep in the hold,

he was slow to respond.

Of course, Amy and K’Leena

came running down,

then they duck and screech

too.

When it landed

exhausted,

we took pictures.

After the dishes were done,

we turned the lights out.

He hissed at Amy.

Hiss.  Hiss.  Hiss.

They both ended up under the table

when he nose dived for them again.

Securing them, he flew to the back bedroom,

calmly ate bugs around the light.

We thought we heard him exclaim

ere he flew out of sight

“Thanks for dinner.”

“I sure enjoyed that bat last night,” Ed said as we swam the next day.

“We need to learn to understand and appreciate them.

I learned that on Reading Rainbow.”

At 3:15 PM, our boat is totally in the shade.

Is this heaven or what?

A perfect nook in the great scheme of things.

Astounding.

Jeanette
I’m less flexible,

more irritable.

Everything bothers me.

Little things that shouldn’t.

Am I growing old

or ill

or both?

I’m still awed

by the quiet,

the solid sheerness

of the cliffs, colors, formations, flex.

The slapping of the still waters

when a rare boat goes by in the channel.

The munificent sky of both day and night

all empower me

teach me

slowly

to ignore the irritations

and grasp the bigger scheme of things.

Rapture.

The rock, now visible, we got stuck on in 1986, with Charles, Shirley and group.

DeRay says its called Newspall across the bay.

The front fell off half of the solid rock wall in a straight line,

maybe millenniums ago. 

I had a ghastly night.

Smelling gas

I worried about an explosion.

Would I save my library book?

James A. Michener’s

873 page “The Covenant”.

Surprisingly, the jacket says $17.95.

I had to pay $34 for a much lesser book

that snooty librarian said I got

a little bit wet years ago.

I haven’t forgotten

even though Brent reminds me

it’s a donation for a worthy cause.

A library book?

What about our lives?

(in the event of an explosion.)

Would we get off?

Who would rescue us?

No hiking out of this 200 foot deep dungeon,

so to speak.

Could we swim without our floats and fins?

Dawn.

K'Leena & Amy

Amy throwing rocks in lake. Will she run out?

Our gourmet food was better than any expensive restaurant in Salt Lake or anywhere in the world.  Salmon cooked on the grill, Basmati rice; fresh zucchini, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers; Shirley’s new potatoes, corn, beans, onions, and beet greens; all made the most scrumptious Dutch oven and deep dish pizza; also pasta salads, Jan’s Eggplant Romano recipe prompted Amy to say to me, “You can cook my dinner anytime.”  You have to know Amy to appreciate that.  She generally abhors everything I attempt to serve, saying I try to cook too wholesomely.

The nights bring the most magnificence,

also, the most fright.

The morning light brings hope.

I never tire of lying here

looking at the ledges, the sheer rock cliffs

with cracks and crannies, swirls and twirls.

If the earth has a soul and is alive,

are these palisades alive?

Monumental.

à

Sometimes

you first see the flashing light

in the stillness of the water,

then you look up to see an airplane

crossing the dark skies.

Ed & Amy
Because it’s so very dark, I say to Ed,

“If you need to go to the bathroom during the night,

you had better awaken me so I can go down with you.”

“I can face it alone,” he said simply.

And he did.

à

We had the best trip ever.

We survived.

We were playing games at the table

around 11 PM

(Ed won’t go to bed before 11, you know,)

when we heard a rumble

acutely alarming us . .

instantaneous fear. . .

A loud boat out so late?

We rush to the doors and windows.

No waves.

Dad gets the flashlight.

From the back of the boat, he, Amy & K’Leena

hear another rock crash down.

Now there are waves.

The protecting sheer reliable cliffs

suddenly become walls of terror.

Will our sanctuary became our prison?

A reminder that we are not invincible.

Nor are we in charge.

Fortunately, the rumble calmed.

We have our theories

We have to wait until morning

to see exactly where the rocks tumbled

to and from.

It’s hard to fall asleep

when you lose your trust. 

 OK, the boulders plunged—some landing on a shelf and some

rolling into the lake--in our alcove

where the cliffs are 200 feet high,

It happened across the inlet from us,

a place where we swim everyday

and the ledge from which Amy and K’Leena

jumped into the water.

I took a whole roll of film showing

where we heard and felt but didn’t see

Earth’s Evolution.

à

There is no other vacation I can think of

that I miss where I was when I get

back to the comforts of my own home

except Lake Powell.

Especially at night.

Visiting together on the top deck

mesmerized by the stars shining brightly

through the caliginous sky;

searching for constellations,

watching for falling stars,

airplanes,

satellites

until sleep envelopes.

Or waking up an hour or two later

to glimpse again the heavenly wonders,

reluctant to fall back asleep,

erasing the vision for another year.

The gym pool that satisfies the rest of the year,

suddenly seems so yellow, dank, and confining.

Chlorine infested.

Lake Powell’s abundant endless, warm, smooth waters

surrounded by majestic cliffs

of endless variety, magnitude, color, and form

spoil the soul forever.

Lake Powell expands, inspires, empowers.

No wonder I miss it when I get home.

THE PUGH SIBLINGS ON THE HOUSEBOAT

October 5, 2001 DeRay left at 5:20 AM to pick up Karen and Norm and Ron for Lake Powell.  He called from Hanksville saying he was having a good time already. Clare met them at Bullfrog.

October 10 - DeRay got home around 9 after a rip-roarin’ week w/ brothers & sisters.

DeRay, Karen, Norm, Ron, Marilyn

DeRay, Norm, Karen, Ron, Marilyn, Clare

 RAINBOW BRIDGE

Celebrating Marilyn's Birthday: Marilyn, Karen, Ron

 Rescuing the hat from the river.

Norm, Marilyn, Karen

  

Ron & Karen

DeRay

Norm, Karen, Clare

DeRay took his siblings down for several years before they decided they were too old to sail the seas.

SL TRIBUNE, August 26, 2001 – BODY FOUND.  The body of an Omaha, Neb., man missing since Monday after a drowning accident at Lake Powell was recovered Friday.  Nicosio Caguioa, 48, was swimming Monday near a houseboat when he slipped below the surface of the water, according to a National Park Service news release.  A member of Caguioa's party on board the houseboat threw him a lifesaving ring, but he was unable to grab it.  Caguioa's body was located at about 7 p.m. Friday in about 100 feet of water with the help of a sonar device, rangers said.