Friday, July 1, 2011

A Voyage on Flathead Lake

After three weeks of waiting for decent weather, the opportunity finally presented itself.  It was time to hit the lake.  I was ready and had been for some time.  After being stuck in Condon Montana for the last two weeks; it was time to see what Flathead Lake had to offer.
I had been thinking about it for some time and knew what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go.  I had an eager crew, a seaworthy vessel, and a plan.  It was the perfect formula for a weekend on the lake.  Well, nothing ever goes as planned, especially if you’re dealing with unknown variables.
First off, the night before we left, I wasn’t expecting to drink beers with my crew mates until 2 AM in the morning.  But we did have a good time and even managed to shave one of the individuals’ leg.  How old am I?  Hey, when in Rome.
Needless to say, the next day was a very slow start.  I think we rolled out at about 12:30 in the afternoon, bound for Kalispell.  We needed supplies and I wanted to make sure the boat would be legal on Montana waters.  The only place I could accomplish that was at the Fish and Wildlife office in Kalispell.  I also needed to get a spare part for the motor.  It seems I had lost the plug which connects the gas line to the motor sometime in the pervious couple weeks.  A fruitless search revealed nothing.
After a fifteen minute wait at the Fish and Wildlife office I was told that I was good to go and wasn’t required to purchase any addition permits for the boat.  What a colossal waste of time.  Last time I’ll listen to locals on the virtues of boat registration.
After a few more stops and an endless set of traffic lights we were headed for the lake.  I was able procure a chart of the Lake when I bought the spare part for the motor; so the trip wasn’t a total waste.  Now I at least had an idea what was to be found around the lake.
I wanted to launch on the south side, out of Yellow Bay.  That would put us close to the more interesting areas of the lake.  I needed to get gas, and figured there would be a gas station at the launch point.  Nope, wrong again.  So, we turned around and headed back up to Woods Bay.  Hell, at this rate I would be circumnavigating the lake via the highway system instead of on the water.
We got gas and headed for the launch.  There is a marina/RV park at Woods Bay and it seemed like our best hope.  Unfortunately, the good folks there didn’t think about sailboats when they built the marina.  There was a bridge over the entrance; thus making it impossible to access the lake if you happen to have a twenty eight foot tall mast on you vessel.  Arrrrrrg!
I talked to the owner and found out there was a public boat launch just over the hill.  She said there was no over night camping, but we could launch the boat there.  No, problem, we wouldn’t be camping; at least not there.  As long as we could leave the truck and trailer, we were good to go.
We made it.  The time was 3:30 PM Friday.  It took about thirty minutes to set up the boat and stow (loosely termed) our gear.  The boat was launched and we began our weekend.  It was much later then I had hoped for, but better late then never. 
My original plan had been to circumnavigate the lake and maybe stop at a dock side bar or two along the way.  I would find a nice cove somewhere every night to anchor the boat.  It looked good on paper.
No sooner then we were on the water then my crew member Lucas was on the phone making plans for the night.  Lucas….. “Hey, were heading for the Raven, meet us there.”  This call directed at our supervisor, who was hurting for a social life.
We sailed for an hour or two and then headed for the Raven.  The Raven, a bar located in Woods Bay is located on the shore of Flathead Lake and comes equipped with a dock; very convenient. 
I was thinking, a couple beers and back on the water.  We needed to find a place to park it for the night.  Lucas however, had other plans.  Little did I know that I would be spending my entire night there. 
I called it good around 11 PM and sought refuge on the Flying Fish.  With earplugs in, I was immune to the noise coming from the bar.  Soon I was sawing logs, as is my custom.  Lucas wouldn’t come aboard until after the bar closed. 
When I went to sleep the lake was perfectly calm.  Sometime in the middle of the night the wind picked up and provided chop.  Since I was tied up to the dock, the boat started to bang against it, rousing me from my slumber.  I got up, moved the boat, and anchored out in the bay.  The rest of the night was fitful, but at least the boat wasn’t hitting the dock.
Saturday morning we actually started “real” sailing; setting our course west across Flathead Lake.  As we cruised, the wind picked up and by the time we were close to the west shore the Flying Fish was pulling six knots. 
I was loving it; this is what I had come here to do.  Lucas, being a complete novice to the “State of Mind” that is sailing, didn’t know what to expect.  At times becoming freaked out as the boat healed in a gust.  He picked it up quickly and soon I was leaving him to man the tiller so I could attend other things.
We made for West Shore State Park.  We hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and the lake was too rough to prepare a meal on.  We docked and found a picnic area.  It was disheartening to me as we ate due to the boat being completely pounded against the dock.  Looking back, I would have sought out a calmer spot to eat.  As far as I could tell the Flying Fish suffered no adverse effects; just my nerves.  I was happy to get back out onto the lake.
From West Shore State Park we made for Long Arm Bay; a journey which would take about four hours.  At first the wind was coming from the south and our direction of travel.  After tacking for more then an hour we were making little headway.  The Flying Fish does not like to beat.  So, I started the motor.  We only made four knots against the wind, but we did gain ground. 
We motored until we approached Wild Horse Island and then left our fate up to the prevailing winds.  Murphy’s Law, the wind died down making for a slow trip from that point on.  We would have to use the motor again just to move.  Oh well, at least we were out on the lake.
I headed into the harbor at Big Arm hoping to find a gas station.  The chart indicated that it was a fueling spot.  My tank was down to about a third and I wanted to make sure we could make it back to the launch if the wind didn’t agree with us.
As we pulled in the boat came to a sudden halt.  The harbor was not deep enough for the keel.  Somewhat embarrassed by the situation, I quickly cranked up the keel and proceeded into the slip area.  There is nothing better then having an audience when something like that happens.  I’m sure the people lounging on their boat in the harbor appreciated the spectacle.  They were nice enough to inform us that there was no longer any fuel services located there.  SHIT.
Back out we went, engine stalls and all.  At that point I decided to head straight for Big Arm State Park and whatever camping spot we could find.  Fifteen minutes later we neared the shore, spotted a camp spot, and made ready to land.  In no time at all we were set up and ready to enjoy the evening.
Lucas pitched his tent and we both had camp chairs.  Soon after landing we were sitting around a fire and enjoying a few beers.  The night set in and we called it a day.
On Sunday morning the Flying Fish made her way back out into the lake and towards the launch area.  It would take us about six hours to sail the distance.  This was mostly due to inconsistent wind.  However, once we cleared Wild Horse Island the wind was steady and we made good time, averaging five and a half knots.
We arrived at 3:00 PM, packed up the boat and headed back to Condon.  The weekend was drawing to a close, but had provided good sailing and some extra curricular activities.  I would be ready to hit it again the following weekend.

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