Our Aborted Lake Chelan SailingTrip
This was a much looked forward to but minimally planned sailing trip, We struck out from Portland in the mid morning hours with a six hour drive ahead of us. Faithfully following us was our 25 foot Sailboat safely perched on its trailer. I wasn't in a hurry, all we planned for the first day was to arrive and we would spend the night at the dock, Spending the night at the dock was not an assumption, I actually read online that there was a dock for this purpose. Since being back I have reread the web site, and determined I made a mistake. |
| Jaiden and Sunshine at 25 mile State Park (as far uplake as we motored) |
After rigging and launching we discussed ignoring the many signs and spray painted warnings about not over-nighting at the dock. Reluctantly I made the decision to cast off. In retrospect I should have overruled my wife and stayed put. It was about an hour before dusk, we had no charts, our gps only showed a rough shoreline with no landmarks, about the only thing our gps was able to tell us was our speed over ground. Normally boating in the dark is an OK thing to do, but I always know where I'm going or have navigation aids. I was steering by dead reckoning towards where I thought the state park would be. I believe that we have about 5 miles to cover, but this is based upon a drawing in a tourist magazine. Linda is making a goulash kind of one pan dinner (my favorite) and so is below and not able to help with the quickly dimming view of shore. My plan was to follow a straight course across the lake and then turn right, hugging the shore as close as safe until we come across Lake Chelan State Park.
Several hours later, we are slowly motoring along, the three of us, our eyes peering into the darkness trying to avoid running aground or into an anchoring buoy, or worse yet an anchored boat. We are following the shoreline in and out of coves and around points, houses are pretty much wall to wall. The half moon lighting our way has set on the ridge leaving us in total darkness, the only thing darker than the night around us is the water itself. A few times I abruptly alter course hard over to avoid boats tied to buoys. A quick check of the gps shows we are barely making 3 mph, any faster and we might get into trouble.
Its eleven o'clock, we are are dead tired, I'm not saying it out loud, but I'm thinking how we should never have left the dock at the launch ramp. Another comforting thought crosses my mind about how when we are boating we never seem to have major unsafe life threatening dangerous situations. Rather a continuous string of uncomfortable pain in the neck experiences that we always get through with minimal danger but major stress. A gambler would say we are about due. Keep watching the depth gauge I remind Linda, I can't see the dimly lit gauge in the dark so I'm relying on her to warn me before the bottom reaches up and slashes a ten foot gash in our thin plastic hull. Why don't you put on your life jacket? I suggest nonchalantly in a non alarming voice.
Sometime earlier the hunger pains hit and I say the foods done lets eat. (its been done for hours) I'm not saying the mixture was bad, it was good, but it is so true that being hungry in a boat in the dark makes things taste much better. I finished the pan. For many miles I have been watching a red and green light slowly getting closer, obviously a navigation aid but for what purpose?
Finally we arrive at the red and green lights marking the entrance to the Lake Chelan Yacht Club Marina, we glide slowly into the glare of their spotlights, close enough to read the warning the signs advising "members only" and "no trespassing" I notice all the slips are full plus the breakwater has boats tied end to end. The only empty dock space is the gas float. We motor on and just about run into a anchor buoy, the shore seems to jut out, I need to move further off shore.
Continuing uplake I'm now looking for anyplace we can anchor, I don't think our Danforth type anchor will hold well in the rocky bottom but we are running out of options. The problem is that the lake is deep and to anchor we need shallow water which is only close to shore, which means we will be literally in someones back yard. Most homes already have boats anchored and I don't want someone spotlighting us telling us to move along. Up ahead I can see a very dark area without lights on shore, its look like a point or maybe a turn in the canyon. I'm hoping to find a cove without houses to hole up in. The wind is picking up and for some time we have large dark black waves crashing into us. Our red green running lights are lighting the waves as our bow neatly splits them. No water is coming aboard but I can tell the eerily lit red and green spray is shooting higher than our deck. Its hard to tell if we are making much forward speed, being further from shore in bigger waves is starting to worry me, plus the fact that we are lost with no place to go is unsettling. The wind and waves have increased to the point where we are listening to our rigging whistle and with every up and down motion our bow slaps the water shooting spray, Suddenly Linda and Jaiden using flashlights point to a loose halyard swinging over the water about twenty feet from the boat, I caution them to leave it alone, going on deck is not in the cards, at least not yet.
The wind and waves have abruptly increased, without hesitation I swing the tiller hard over and reverse course, our speed helped by wind and wave is taking us back the way we came at a good clip. I'm looking for the red and green lights, the only landmark I remember. Right away it seems we are dodging the same anchored boats an hour earlier posed uplake challenges. We move away from shore and soon the Yacht Club lights come back into view.
Approaching the Yacht Club this time is a little different, my intention is to find a way to squeeze in for the rest of the night, even if it means tying to the club gas dock, we can always cast off at first light if someone threatens us with trespassing or something like a fine. Slowly motoring between the marker lights I realize the fairways are just barely big enough for a small boat let alone a hard to maneuver sailboat towing a dinghy. I tell Jaiden to quickly pull the dinghy in tight and to man the lines making sure we don't foul the prop, I repeat myself saying qiuckly, quickly, as I put the motor in reverse trying to stop our forward motion. We have to back straight out, there's not enough room to turn around, the dinghy bangs into our back end as we come to a stop. Jaiden does a great job keeping the lines clear and the dinghy at bay, as we begin to reverse direction I pivot us against the gas dock and in a another moment we are tied to the dock. Stepping onto the private yacht clubs dock I am mentally preparing for an argument why we cant leave, how the wind and waves are much to rough for us. As I look around I notice most of the boats are smaller than ours which would account for their too narrow fairway we had to back out of. The danger argument may not hold water. I don't see anyone around, I can hear soft conversation but can't locate the source. We maneuver the boat off the gas dock to the outside of next float; after carefully arranging our three fenders and deploying more lines than normal we hit the sack, it's midnight.
I awake the next morning to zero wind, flat water and a deserted Yacht Club, I walk around their beautiful facility and fail to find anyone around. We make our usual cockpit coffee with bagels and cream cheese, use the clubs bathrooms and then casually sail away from the dock. Two hours later we are still in sight of the Yacht Club with limp hanging sails. We spend the day visiting some DNR parks and make it to 25 mile State Park. By the late afternoon we finally find Lake Chelan Sate park, I don't understand how I missed it in the dark, it was exactly where I thought it was. Apparently in the dark, we weren't where I thought we were. We spend a pleasant night at the first come first served free dock with about 10 other boats, none that have their owners sleeping aboard, apparently they are sleeping ashore in the campground. Again we are the largest boat. By now I have decided to go home in the morning cutting our trip by 4 days. I have talked to a number of local boaters about usual conditions and determined Lake Chelan is not a good sailing lake. Scorching hot 95 degrees days, little or no wind until dark, and then big wind kicked waves to bash the boat against the dock all night. We will be back some day, but not with a sailboat.
John
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| Jaiden driving the dinghy back to Mission Bay |
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