Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Storm on the Dock



The finger nails of my left hand quickly dug into the top of the wooden dock, and were now dragging across the grain of the planks.  I was in what I thought was slow motion, rolling over unexpectedly into the mountain lake, along with the kayak.  I was in denial, and my pride was now soaking wet.
I was certain that I had been careful to gently and slowly let myself down into the gray sea kayak, and I was certain that my agility and balance was just as good as my youthful days bounding around the soccer pitch.  But alas, I really was bobbing in my blue lifejacket . . . next to the belly of the kayak. My childhood friend, Bill, who had been paddling out from the dock toward the larger body of the lake so we could go back to camp, had turned around and was now coming back to the dock.  He said what happened?  I laughed.  I slowly swam over to the dock's ladder steps.  As a crawled up onto the dock I felt the stinging of my fingertips, and saw blood slowly pooling. Was I still accident prone after all these years?  Bill joined me on the dock, we grabbed the ends of the water-filled kayak, and dragged it up onto the floating dock and emptied it of the lake water. 
Bill and I were childhood friends, we played Little League together.  He had married his high school sweet heart, Debbie, and I had married mine, Kathy. We had talked off and on for years of paddling on a river or lake.
It was a special weekend, our wives were having a high school girls reunion at our home in Brevard, North Carolina with three of their close friends who had driven in from Georgia, Tennessee, Virginia, and Maryland, and Bill and I were ardently striving to have our first-ever weekend camping and paddling while the girls were having fun.  We were determined that rain or shine, we were going to have a great time.  As some would expect the weather forecast was for, you guessed it, scattered showers.
As we emptied the kayak, and turned it back over, a violent September storm moved over the lake and into the cove, it hit quickly with hard rain, hail, wind, and lightning.  The lake had turned to into 1’ to 2’ white caps, and being under the metal dock roof was the last place we wanted to be.
We were in a pickle and there were very few options.  We chose to head up the 40 yard metal plank walk, past the No Trespassing sign, to the shelter of a log cabin porch surrounded by what seemed to be ancient hemlocks and oaks.  This itself was an adventure due to the lake level being down about 15-18 feet, making the wet slope up from the floating dock a bit steep, which made us all the more uneasy.  This was a rustic cabin, the only one on the interior of the lake.  As we sat down on the porch we noticed the sign on the door, "Trespassers will be Shot, Survivors will be Shot Again!"  Above the door was a video camera.  Breaking out the band-aids was next.  My fingers looked like prunes, and the damp air made it near impossible to get dirt off and get band-aids on.  I determined that two band aids were enough and the other fingers would have to go without.  We watched the storm from under the eve of the cabin's small porch, and ate some trail mix.  We waited about 40 minutes, all the while wondering in the back of our minds if the owner of the cabin was alerted to our sitting on the porch and if the video camera was real or just a deterrent.
As the storm let up, we embarked back down to the kayaks, and I once again found humiliation.  About 10 feet from the walkway's bottom my feet went out from under me and I found myself crashing down into the same floating platform I had earlier dug my fingernails into.  Bill said are you okay.  I laughed again, this time my elbow took the brunt of it, but no blood, just a little skin. But before we got the kayaks into the water, a second storm hit, and we scrambled back up to the safety of the cabin porch.  Another 15 minutes.  Finally we made it down safely and paddled back to camp where we found our tent sitting in several inches of water, fortunately the water had not seeped through the floor of the tent.  It rained hard that night, and we ended up with two tarps over the tent.  In the morning we packed up all our wet soggy gear, boiled water for our breakfast, and carried everything down to the kayaks.  Bill said did you move the kayaks closer to the water.  I slowly scanned around, responding no.  Ahhh, the lake level had come up several feet overnight. We were surprised and wondered if we could have lost the kayaks if we had left them closer to the lake?
The 30 minute paddle back across the lake to the boat ramp was memorable that Sunday morning.  It is hard to describe the beauty the raindrops creating thousands of ripples as each rain drop hit the surface of the lake, and just as fast as they touched the top of the lake, each drop seemingly jumped about an inch straight back up out of the water.  As I gazed ahead with the lake under me, the rain coming down all around me I could not help but to be struck by the awesomeness of the moment.  I felt safe, and fulfilled.  I would imagine that Bill and I will reminisce about our adventure for years to come. 
In thinking about the day before, who knows what might have happened if we had been in the middle of the 200 to 400 feet deep lake when the storm had hit.  I count my spill into the lake, and crash down the ramp as blessings as they surely slowed us down from heading out into what would have been a life-threatening storm.
Sometimes when we feel like we have lost control of our lives, even with all our planning, there is someone who has bigger plans, and a grander vision.  I believe that I learned a little bit more about who was in charge.

The above story is from September 2009
Three Day Sea Kayaking and Camping Adventure
Lake Jocassee (NC and SC)
Paddling 17’ Sea Kayaks (Wilderness System Sealution II, and NECKY Looksha)

Mark A. Bailey

The Dock

The ramp which went up and down with the level of the lake,
sometimes flat, sometimes steep, pictured flat.




Camp


History of the Lake from websites noted:
According to Wikipedia:
The name Jocassee comes from the legend of a Cherokee maiden. An Oconee tribe, the "Brown Vipers" led by Chief Attakulla, inhabited the west side of the Whitewater river, while a rival tribe, "The Green Birds", lived on the east. Legend says that a young Green Bird warrior, Nagoochee, was not afraid to enter Brown Viper hunting grounds. On one occasion, he fell and broke his leg and was convinced he was going to die. Then he heard Jocassee, Attakulla's daughter, who brought him back to her father's lodge and nursed him back to health. Jocassee eventually fell in love with him, but in a later battle, Cheochee, Jocassee's brother, killed and brought Nagoochee's head back on his belt. Legend has it that Jocassee went into the water and did not sink but walked across the water to meet the ghost of Nagoochee. The name Jocassee means "Place of the Lost One[1]."
The Jocassee Gorges area was once home to the part of the Cherokee Nation; it now lies 300 feet (91 m) beneath the surface of the lake, near the Toxaway River. Nearby Keowee Town was a major hub in the Cherokee Path that connected Cherokee towns and villages throughout the area. Early 18th century traders delivered as many as 200,000 deerskins annually to Charleston, South Carolina and local Indians became well supplied with European firearms, ammunition, tools and clothing as a result. However, mounting discord between Europeans and Cherokees led to war in 1759. In 1785, General Andrew Pickens hosted a large gathering of Indian chiefs leading to a treaty that gave all of the Jocassee gorges area, with the exception of northern Oconee County, to the United States; the Oconee mountains were not ceded until 1815. European settlers, mostly of Scottish and Irish descent, came from Virginia and Pennsylvania as well as from Charleston. Land grants in the Jocassee area go back to 1791.
Present Times
Lake Jocassee is 7,500 acres of water with 75 miles of shoreline. The lake is at an elevation of 1,100 feet. The lake is used for recreation and is used by Duke Power to generate 610,000 kilowatts fo electricty with its Jocassee Pumped Storage Hydroelectric Station that was built in 1973. The dam is 385 feet high and 1,750 feet long.
Duke Power and the state of South Carolina provide the Devils Fork State Park and the Double Springs remote campground, both managed by the S.C. Department of Parks, Recreation and Tourism.
Use the links below to find out more about the history of Lake Jocassee.
Jocassee Valley, A Community History
Jocasse Remembered - Jocassee valley before the current lake
Carolina Living - History of Carolina Lakes
wikipedia.org


ANOTHER SOURCE on the Lake’s History
Lake Jocassee is another man-made lake in the upstate of South Carolina which has 7,500 acres of water with 75 miles of shoreline.  It too, as Lake Keowee, is located near the breath-taking Blue Ridge Mountains and many people have built their homes on its' shoreline and neighboring acreage.  The lake covers most of the Jocassee Valley, and it reaches in some places a depth of 1,110 ft.!
The captivating fact about Lake Jocassee is that when it was flooded in 1973, some buildings of a town named Jocassee were left intact as the waters covered them.  One of the buildings was the Attakulla Lodge which operated for 50 years.  It was a bed and breakfast and well-known in its' time!   Another buried building was the Whitewater Inn which became a girls' camp named Camp Jocassee.  What memories this lake holds in its' depths!  It is also told that there are some gravestones too!  Eerie!
Many recreational activities are offered at the lake including boat tours and scuba diving!   If one wants to see the Jocassee Dam, a boat tour is offered.  That is the only way you can get to it.  The dam was built in 1973 as part of the Duke Power Company project for the nuclear plant.  If you are an adventurous scuba diver, you can join countless others who have made the dive to see what once was! 
Another interesting fact, is that when Jocassee Valley was flooded, it was a confluence of four rivers, namely, the Whitewater River, Toxaway River, Devil's River, and the Thompson River. 
It is amazing what progress does to change life for those who are affected by it.  The stories that can be told and passed on for generations to come.
To read more about this beautiful Lake Jocassee and more of its' history, please refer to the following sites: www.trailbehind.com and www.jocassee.com 



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