Sam blushed enough to make the others laugh, but Becky showed no embarrassment.
"When are we going to meet up with the other raft?" asked Sam.
That morning, the group in the other raft, had decided to sleep in. They had seen Elves Chasm before and were feeling lazy. So the guides had agreed to separate.
Keller motioned upstream. "When they finally get up, they'll meet us here. It'll give you guys some time to explore Elves."
Afram popped the top on the cooler "All right. What's to eat?"
Keller looked confused. "I thought you guys were doing YOYO for lunch."
"Screw YOYO," Afram said smiling. "We'd all starve and you know it."
Keller gave in. "All right, who wants to make the sandwiches?"
No one actually volunteered, but everyone in the boat pitched in and helped. Why not? They were at an incredible spot and the mood was upbeat.
Julie checked her watch. They had been waiting for gas at Dangling Rope for almost forty-five minutes and there was still a crowd of boats ahead of them. This was taking way too long. Additionally, the wind had started blowing, which was typical in the afternoons at Lake Powell. Patience was wearing thin in all the boats, and numerous arguments about who was next had taken place. The gas pumps had been operating non-stop since they arrived.
Dangling Rope's gas pumps were self-service with a slot to insert credit cards, and there were a total of eighteen pumps. On a big day, the marina pumped twenty thousand gallons, but Julie thought today might be a new record.
"What if they run out?" she asked.
Paul shook his head. "They better not."
While waiting, Greg had continued to nose the boat closer to the dock. Now they were pinched by boats that had arrived after them. They were committed to pump #11. A small yellow boat had just replaced the nozzle in the pump, and was trying to back out of the slip. The crowd of boats made his exit very difficult.
"Make room!" someone shouted.
Another man waved his arms at a red boat blocking the exit of the yellow boat. "Get out of the way!"
The man in the red boat looked uncomfortable, and when he tried to back his boat to make room he nudged a boat behind him.
"Watch it you moron!"
The small yellow boat took the opportunity to slip past. As soon as he was gone a large white boat pulled up to the pump. Instead of inserting a credit card, he started jogging down the docks toward the store.
A fat guy in an orange shirt in the boat next to Julie, yelled at him, "Where the hell are you going?"
The man's wife, who was still in the white boat, stood and faced the man in the orange shirt. "Sorry, but we only have cash."
"Then get out of the way, and let somebody else pump."
"It'll only take a couple minutes," she argued.
"We don't have a couple minutes, lady."
"Leave her alone," Greg said.
The yeller turned toward Greg. "Stay out of it. I don't have to wait for them. If you want to wait, you get behind them."
Julie wished that Greg would have stayed out of it, even though the lady needed somebody to support her.
The man in the orange shirt turned back to the white boat. "Move it out of the way lady."
She turned away and tried to ignore him.
"Lady, I'm talking to you."
Julie spoke before she could stop herself. "You're not helping."
"Like I said, if you guys want to wait, go ahead. But, they're not holding the rest of us up." He motioned at the other boats behind him as if everyone supported what he was doing. He turned back to the white boat. "Lady?"
Julie saw that the man from the white boat was now running back down the docks toward them. She pointed to him. "Here he comes."
The man in orange sat down and didn't say anything else.
While Julie watched the man take the nozzle and put it in his boat, she calculated that each boat took between ten and fifteen minutes to fill, and there were still four boats waiting for #11 ahead of them, including the man in the orange shirt. Counting their own boat, that was five boats total. She guessed they would be stuck at Dangling Rope for another hour.
While they were waiting, they overheard that at Dangling Rope, which was just over forty miles upstream from the dam, that water levels were dropping approximately ten feet per hour. Closer to the dam, levels were dropping even faster. At the upstream end of the lake, another hundred forty miles away, they hadn't noticed anything yet. Paul had pointed out a man adjusting cables on the floating docks to compensate for the changing levels.
Julie let her mind wander downstream to where the dam was supposed to be. She imagined boats getting sucked over the top, and people drowning. Maybe they were better off up here, miles away from the dam. But on the other hand, Greg was right about getting stranded, and staying this far north would guarantee days or more before they were rescued. Julie wondered if they could save the Mastercraft. They had paid over twenty thousand dollars for it. She wondered if insurance would cover it, if they abandoned it someplace.
Hopefully, Max and Darlene would be waiting when Greg got them back to the houseboat. Julie wondered if Darlene would take the initiative to pack everything up in preparation. Then again, what if Darlene and Max didn't know. Maybe nobody had told them what was going on.
Max felt someone shaking him. He opened his eyes and saw Darlene's face.
"Wake up." She pointed at where they had kayaked through the slot canyon. "The water's gone."
"What water?" he mumbled. What was she talking about? He pulled himself up on his side and looked at where she was pointing. Then he sat bolt upright. "What the―"
"It's gone," she said.
Max saw that the water had dropped at least five feet since he fell asleep, because there was no water at all in the canyon, and the muddy bottom was at least five feet below where the water had been, when they paddled in.
After they had stopped an hour before, Darlene had spread out the two beach towels and they ate a quick picnic lunch. The romantic atmosphere of the private rock cavern interrupted their lunch, and well, one thing had led to another. Afterward, Max had taken a nap, while Darlene read her book. And obviously, while he was asleep, the water had disappeared.
Max stepped carefully over the rocks down into the wet streambed. His feet sunk up to his ankles in deep sticky mud. He moved forward with slow movements and wet sucking sounds, until he rounded the corner and could see into the narrow canyon. No water. He yelled for Darlene to wait, while he looked around. His movements were slow and awkward, but he managed to move all the way through the narrow portion, until it opened up and he could see. The water was now visible, about a hundred feet away.
Max tried to imagine what it had looked like when they kayaked through here. The water had been approximately ten feet deeper and had covered the bottom of the muddy canyon. Max looked at the shore, and the wet band, and cursed that he had ignored the signs. He realized now that he had noticed something even before they left the houseboat. In total, he guessed the water had dropped over thirty feet.
But, how could this happen? Lake Powell was a hundred eighty miles long. How could the water drop so fast? And then it hit him. There was only one answer. Something had happened to the dam. He turned back into the canyon.
"Darlene!" He tried to move quickly through the sticky mud. "Darlene!"
David looked at the rock ledge. Keller had said that the way to the upper falls at Elves Chasm was tricky, but he didn't think it'd be this bad. The ledge was only about a foot wide. If someone fell, they'd die. "I dunno," he said, shaking his head.