It’s more than a body of water to scuba divers (5,000 or so a year!) and other sportsmen and women who spend hours in, under and beside it. Lake Jocassee, known for its crystal-clear water, has been used as a clean power source for 50 years. It’s also where many spent their childhood summers, people like Allan Boggs, 59, who grew up fishing for trout on its shores.
“It was almost mysterious it was so pristine,” he said. “There was nothing there except this beautiful mountain lake big and deep.”
Today, part of Boggs’ job as civil regulatory and compliance supervisor at Duke Energy is to help preserve the lake’s unspoiled state. Talk about inspiration. He remembers his days as an assistant scoutmaster when he’d bring the boys from Boy Scout Troop 134 to hike around the lake, then spend the night camping under the stars. And he remembers his late father, Allan Boggs Sr., going to work every morning for Duke Energy. His father’s assignment? An electrician, part of the team that provided power for the crew that built the lake.
Fifty years later, as he looks out over the lake and the Blue Ridge Mountains that frame it, Boggs settles on the words that capture life’s past and present.
“I’m living a dream, man.”
Making power possible
One hundred fifty miles southwest of Charlotte, N.C., Lake Jocassee (pronounced Jo-CAS-ee) has 75 miles of shoreline. Its deepest point is 330 feet.
Duke Power, now Duke Energy, developed the man-made reservoir in 1973 to meet the growing demand for electricity. The lake was formed by flooding the rural Jocassee Valley with water from four mountain rivers, a project that made clean power generation possible.
Now celebrating its 50th year in operation, the Jocassee pumped-hydro storage station provides electricity to some 600,000 Duke Energy customers in North Carolina and South Carolina. Bad Creek – the company’s other pumped-hydro storage station in upstate South Carolina – powers another 1.3 million Carolinas customers (or more) annually. Both facilities can store excess energy from solar sites and other renewables when demand is low.
And since much of the land around it remains development-free, the 7,500-acre jewel is known as one of the region’s most pristine areas for all sorts of public recreation.
A destination for divers, swimmers and more
Where to begin?
The 622-acre Devils Fork State Park, which welcomed 305,229 visitors in 2023, offers the only public access to the lake. Everyone from experienced outdoorsmen to families on a weekend outing come to hike, backpack, canoe, kayak, camp and fish. Foothills Trail skirts the lake, offering 77 miles of opportunities to cross over streams and take selfies. Visitors rent boats to putter around and admire the beauty of the lake’s many waterfalls.
The Jocassee dam is 385 feet high and 1,800 feet in length. It has eight openings that direct water to generating units. Anyone who gets to look out onto the lake and dam is a lucky soul, said Allen Nicholson, a lead engineering technologist who has worked for Duke Energy for 42 years. “You can have a bad day at home, a bad weekend and you see Lake Jocassee, the dam, the mountains.…”
Nicholson doesn’t need to finish the thought. We get the point.
When divers come from throughout the Southeast to explore what’s beneath, they discover what once graced the valley. Stone pillars and the white picket fence that formed the entrance to Camp Jocassee for Girls. The remains of Attakulla Lodge, a hotel that slid off its foundation and rests on its side. Gravestones from the Mount Carmel Baptist Church cemetery (the monuments remain; the remains of the beloved were moved to drier land). A wooden sailboat imported from China in the 1960s.
This is some of what makes Lake Jocassee more than a source of clean, reliable and affordable power. And why National Geographic once named it one of “50 of the World’s Last Great Places: Destinations of a Lifetime.” More recently, USA Today dubbed Lake Jocassee the “Best Lake for Swimming” in the U.S.
‘The beauty of this place’
Diving, above all, is what sets it apart, said Bill Routh of Salem, S.C. Having earned the unofficial title “Grandfather of Lake Jocassee Diving,” Routh has adored the lake since he was a kid. At age 64, he still loves it. Routh lives nearby in the Salem community and operates Lake Jocassee Dive Shop.
His business – his passion – is teaching scuba diving, running a charter boat service, selling equipment to divers and fixing what’s broken. He knows of what he sells. The first of his 10,000 or so dives in Lake Jocassee came in 1983.
“It was just gorgeous,” Routh said, waxing just as poetic as his friend, Duke Energy’s Allan Boggs. “I fell in love with this place when I was a kid. It is spiritual to me.”
The lake’s clear, cool waters make it a year-round attraction. On a recent Saturday in late spring, Devils Fork State Park posted on its homepage that it was at parking capacity. “Please, no walk-ins, drive-through or drop-offs.”
“The beauty of this place,” Routh said, “it’s now here for everyone to enjoy.”
Adds Boggs: “There’s no way to detail the good Lake Jocassee has done.”
Leaving a legacy
Like grandfather, like father, like son. Generational connections are common for this area.
Chad Luce, the station’s operations superintendent, was a part of Jocassee’s history since birth. “I have been very fortunate over the years. I am a third-generation Jocassee Luce,” Chad said. “My grandfather unloaded the first rotor poles that were brought here to this site.”
Luce’s father was also involved with Jocassee Hydro before finishing his career at nearby Oconee Nuclear Station, also owned and operated by Duke Energy.
“I am here now doing my stint and just trying to do the best I can to continue the legacy,” he said.
Gabe Boggs, 21, represents the third generation of his family to work for Duke Energy. He’s a technician based in Tuckasegee, just over the North Carolina line. He dreams of one day coming home to Lake Jocassee and serving Duke Energy and its customers.
He grew up on its shores, fishing for bass. At 10, he was certified to scuba dive under its waters. He remembers the many family gatherings held under a lakeside picnic shelter. For all his life, he watched his dad preserve this jewel for generations to come.
Soon, Gabe hopes, it will be his turn.
“My fondest memories are on the lake,” he said. “It definitely feels like a legacy.”
