Wednesday, 3 December 0.0 SM
“There was a thick fog. A scow went by so close we could hear them talkin’ and cussin’ but we couldn’t see no sign of them. Jim said he believe it was spirits; but I says: “No, spirits wouldn’t say, ‘dern the dern fog’.”
Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
It’s hard enough to follow the ICW markers when you can see them, never mind in fog.
The idea was to get going again but never was the plan to get underway early. Good thing. Nature had other ideas.
Sometime during the night, a thick fog rolled up the coast and lay a thick gray-brown blanket over the ICW, like smoke from a fire of damp logs. Even the birds were grounded, flocks of them perched on the piers all day! The reports didn’t say how far inland the mist floated but it cut visibility on the waterway to as little as 50 yards at times. The forecast called for it to lift around 1000, then said 1300. A bit of sun did shine through around 1400 and a few boats got underway then. But the fog below never cleared totally and rolled in again with a vengeance about 1700.
At one point, the waterway just disappeared.
Maybe Maine felt rebuffed, not having been visited when Steadfast ventured north this past summer. This definitely is a taste of Maine, a real Down East kind of fog.
Message received and the response the same as in Tenant’s Harbor two years ago: lay over, in this case to enjoy another day in Fernandina.
Steadfast out.
At Sea with Steadfast 
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