Saturday, 13 September
Despite a rainy forecast, the morning sun shone briefly on the Sassafras, promising more than the day would deliver.
The sky over the Eastern Shore showed promise this morning but the thick dark clouds to the west, over Baltimore, promised rain before long. So it was anchor aweigh at 0800 with Steadfast motoring down the Sassafras in plenty of time to make Fairlee Creek ahead of the rains.
Fairlee gets high marks in the cruising guide, both for shelter and beauty, and it’s one of the many anchorages on this part of the Bay that Steadfast had yet to visit. It had the added enticement of being only about a three-hour run from the Sassafras. The wind would be of no help, though, so it was all up to Little Red, plugging into a foul current that kept speeds below five knots most of the 14 miles.
The entrance to Fairlee Creek has beach on one side, sand spit on the other and barely 7′ depth between.
As the cruising guide warns, the channel into Fairlee is short, shallow and narrow. That is to say it’s barely a boat length across so once a boat heads in, she’s pretty much committed to going through. Meeting another vessel could be embarrassing, at best, and there is a good chance another boat will be met. There’s a good-sized marina just inside the creek and Fairlee is a popular weekend anchorage. An inflatable zips from the anchorage to the beach. A go-fast boat idles out, a flybridge eases in and Steadfast follows astern.
Several boats lay at anchor just inside the sandspit at the entrance. But that’s right across from the marina with lots going on so it’s a quick decision to motor—slowly—up the creek to a more secluded spot. It’s close to low tide and the depth sounder shows almost six feet so s’all good. There’s barely a breath of wind.
That changes, though, as dark clouds crawl eastward and sprinkle the creek. Boats swing to face west briefly then, as the front moves through, it’s a northerly that nabs them. It builds to 15, then 20 knots sustained, gusting near 30. What had been ripples on the creek surface grow to wavelets and, in awhile, whitecaps. Steadfast might ride more comfortably, it is thought, were she to move down the creek where the trees lining the beach would break the wind a bit.
What certainly is one of the most singular homes seen sits on Fairlee Creek.
So at 1800, the ignition key turned, the starter button was pushed and Red cranked for all she was worth. She would not fire, however. Bummer. Lifting the hatch, a quick visual revealed naught. Whatever ailed her, Red keeps to herself. Another try, same result.
After all that motoring of the past week—up, over and through quartering seas— faulty fuel filters seem a likely cause. But at this hour, Steadfast rocking with a whistling wind, diving into the engine room does not entice. More rode is released and the crew settles in for a secure but noisy, roly-poly night.
The fuel line gets a good going over in the morning.
Steadfast out.
At Sea with Steadfast 
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