St. Michael’s, MD

Among favorite markers on the Bay is one Tolly Point for Annapolis Harbor.

Thursday, 18 September

Through the course of several months underway, there are epiphanies which foster profound thoughts, two of which are to be shared now.

First, the degree to which life on board a 27’ sailboat improves and is enjoyed is proportional inversely to the extent of any leak. This degree is doubled, at a minimum, in regard to leaks of diesel fuel. That understood, life aboard this day has improved markedly.

With lots of sun and no evidence of a fuel leak, Steadfast is underway down the Severn by late morning, turns starboard at Tolly Point and heads across the Chesapeake toward Bloody Point Bar and the entrance to Eastern Bay.

The light at Bloody Point,with its aptly sanguine hue, began to list shortly after construction in 1881.

The route is straightforward, weather clear, seas flat and wind minimal, making the trip to St. Michael’s and easy 24.9 nautical miles. Little Red kept at it the whole way and the Racor continued to hold itself together as designed so s’all good.

The one anomaly is in the sequencing of channel markers to Saint Mike’s. Numbers ascend going up Eastern Bay – 2, 6, 12, 14 – as you’d expect. The next marker after ‘14’, though, is green-1, then ‘2.’ After ‘4,’ a new sequence begins to lead into St. Michael’s. It all makes sense when one recognizes that these mark three distinct yet contiguous bodies of water: Eastern Bay, Miles River and St. Michael’s Harbor.

And that leads to profound thought number-2: St. Michael’s Harbor looks a lot different—much smaller—when approached by water than when driving down Carpenter Street, say, to Higgins Yacht Yard. There had been visits by car but this is the first by boat. It’s quite a sight, a broad anchorage that narrows to a tidy, tight little harbor anchored to starboard by the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum.

A fleet of Chesapeake Bay classics is moored at the museum pier in St. Michael’s in front of the former Hooper Island Light.

This is “The Town That Fooled the British,” hoisting lanterns to the topmasts of ships in harbor so shells from His Majesty’s nighttime naval bombardment flew over the town’s homes, shops and shipyards. Or so goes the story of St. Michael’s involvement in the War of 1812.

Pre-Revolution homes still stand near the waterfront.

There are well-preserved homes that pre-date the Revolution, survived the bombardment and all the floods and storms of years since and are homes still. Excellent examples are just off the waterfront at St. Michael’s Square, the seat of the Anglican parish from which the town derives its name. Eats, shops and a good-sized grocery are arrayed along Talbot Street, all within an easy stroll of the harbor. That includes Gina’s Taco Bar where the Burrito of the Day happens to be blackened shrimp with feta, arugala and other tasty stuff. Wicked.

Back aboard, the air is fresh. Ah, breathe deeply, mates. L’essence du diesel is nowhere in evidence.

Life is good.

Okay, not profound, at all.  You already knew that.

Steadfast out.