Word: houseboaters
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...drove up to the Wahweap Lodge, a sleek-looking hotel by the water's edge, and eyed the 60 or so houseboats bobbing at anchor, ranging in size from the 36-ft. Standard class, which sleeps six, up to the 60-ft. Admiral, which can bed more than 10. All the rental boats and the five marinas scattered around the 186-mile-long lake are owned and operated by the Aramark Corp., the concessionaire for the National Park Service. Before turning in for the night, we had a little preparation to do. I gave the video on houseboat safety...
...next morning, we marched down to the marina to meet Steve Ward, an Aramark official who, at 52, has spent more than 30 years on Lake Powell. "O.K., are you ready to see your Admiral houseboat?" he asked. Before any of us could respond, there it was--every bit as enormous as I had imagined it in my worst anxiety attack. Once we were inside, though, the angst turned to wonder. It looked more like a luxury two-story condo in Trump Tower than a boat. The Admiral came with a fully equipped kitchen, a large oval dining table that...
...amenities didn't stop there. Exploring the lake solely from a houseboat is too slow and costly, since the Admiral cruises at just 10 m.p.h. and guzzles 1.5 gal. of gasoline per mile. Most renters add on a separate speedboat, to be towed astern. Practical houseboaters tend to moor the big vessel on a secluded beach and use the faster, more fuel-efficient powerboat for recreation and exploration...
...operate the high-powered generator, prime the engine, use the toilet, work the marine radio and anchor the boat. Under his watchful eye, I soon settled into the captain's chair to take over the wheel. And then, good news! It became obvious that driving a houseboat--even a 60-footer--is a snap. Its dual engines powered us so smoothly over the lake that we wouldn't have spilled a drop from a glass full of water...
Sleeping on the houseboat came surprisingly easily, with the soothing rhythm of the waves slapping softly against the hull. Morning arrived languidly on Lake Powell. The first glow of sunlight painted the canyons and cliffs with orange and red, and the still water turned brilliant blue. The gentlest of winds blew across the desert. It was a perfect start to the day, especially one in which our twin girls would turn eight...