CHAPTER XXIII
THE LIGHT-KEEPER AND HIS LIFE
The life of the guardian of a blazing signpost of the coast is much the same the whole world over. It is unavoidably monotonous under the best conditions. Each succeeding day and night brings a similar round of toil, with very little variation. There are the same duties to be performed in strict accordance with routine, and under normal circumstances there are many idle hours which have to be whiled away as best one can. On the mainland, especially in the South of England, France, Germany, and the United States, the loneliness and monotony are not felt so keenly by the wardens of the light, as in many instances they are in close proximity to ports and towns, where a little welcome relaxation may be obtained during the rest spells; while in the summer evenings, if the lights should be only a few miles away from civilization, visitors are frequent. Again, the keepers as a rule live with their families in cosy solid buildings, and, having a stretch of garden flanking their homes, can expend their hours of leisure to advantage.
On the isolated, lonely rock, however, the conditions are vastly different. The average person, when regarding on a calm day the tall slim outlines of a tower rising from the water, is apt to regard the life of those responsible for keeping the light going as one enveloped in romance and peace, far removed from the trials and worries of the maelstrom of civilization. But twenty-four hours on one of these beacons completely dispel all romantic impression. The gilt of fascination wears away quickly, and the visitor recognizes only too forcibly the terrible desolation of it all, and admires the little band of men who watch vigilantly over the deep for the guidance of those who go down to the sea in ships.
The keepers of such stations are marooned as completely as any castaway on a barren island. In many instances they cannot even signal to the shore. If anything should go wrong, they must wait until a ship comes in sight, to communicate their tidings by flag signals. If the call is urgent, say for illness, and the passing boat carries a doctor, she will heave to, and, if conditions permit, will launch a boat to carry the medical man to the rock to administer aid. If it is a matter of life or death, the ship will take the man off.
As may be imagined, upon a sea-rock, owing to the slender proportions of the tower, the quarters are inevitably very cramped, with no facilities for the men to stretch their limbs. The manner in which space is economized in the small circular apartments is astonishing. The essential furniture is built to the wall, and liberal cupboard space is provided, the governing consideration being to provide the men with as much open space as the restricted circumstances will permit. The only exercise that the men can obtain in the open air is upon the narrow shelf forming the landing platform, or the narrow gallery around the lantern. In the majority of circumstances it is less than that provided for the benefit of a prisoner in an exercise yard.
The lamp is lighted at dusk, and, unless it is a fixed white light, the clockwork driving the occulting and revolving mechanism has to be wound up. Seeing that this entails the lifting of a ton or so up the vertical cylinder in which the weight travels, this is no mean task in itself.
Unremitting vigilance has to be maintained while the lamp is burning. It demands attention from time to time, while, should anything serious go wrong, the attendant must bring the reserve lamp into service without a moment’s loss of time and without interruption of the ray.
“The light must not go out!” That is the inflexible rule of all attended lights between the two Poles. Even if it failed only for a minute, the circumstance would not escape observation. Some vessel would detect the breakdown; it would be recorded in the captain’s log-book. When he touched the first port, intimation would be sent to the organization responsible for the beacon, setting forth the fact that on such and such a night, at a certain hour, this light was not showing in accordance with the official light list, or was giving a warning different from that laid down for the guidance of the seafarer. An inquiry would be instituted immediately to ascertain the reason, and the light-keeper probably would find himself in an awkward position, although months might have elapsed since the incident.
There is nothing haphazard about the control of lights. The circumstances are too serious to permit the slightest deviation from hard-and-fast regulations. The passing mariner is entirely dependent upon these blazing guardians, maybe from a distance of fifteen miles or more. He has his chart wherewith he is able to steer his way, but he must have certain marks to guide him at night, so that he may be sure of his course and position. Accordingly, every lighthouse possesses some individual characteristic in regard to its light. As explained elsewhere, it may be a group flash, an occulting flash of a distinctive nature, a revolving light which completes a revolution once in a certain period of time, or a fixed blaze.
Fortunately, the men watching over the lights appreciate the gravity of their responsibility, and are reliable to an heroic degree. Each is a man picked for the duty, who is not appalled by loneliness, and is of unimpeachable precision. Of course, accidents will happen, but dereliction of duty is criminal, because it may bring about loss of life. Carelessness on the part of a light-keeper precipitated the loss of the steamer _Victoria_ when crossing the English Channel from Newhaven to Dieppe on April 12, 1887. The French coast, as it was being approached, became shrouded by the inexorable fog-fiend. The captain lost his way, although he knew, from the time he had been steaming, that he must be perilously near the French shore. He listened for the droning of the fog-siren mounted on Pointe d’Ailly, but in vain. He sent to the engine-room to ascertain the number of revolutions the engines had made, and this convinced him that he must be close inshore, despite the silence of the fog-signal. Thinking that he might have strayed some distance east of Dieppe, he brought his vessel round, and then crawled slowly ahead. But he had scarcely settled into his forward stride when there was a crash--a terrible splitting and crunching. The vessel had kept a true course, and now had hit the very rocks which the captain had sought to avoid. The passengers, being ready to land, were got into the boats and pushed through the dense curtain for land, but some thirty passengers and crew were never seen again.
The subsequent inquiry revealed an amazing breach of duty on the part of those in charge of the light-station. The head lighthouse-keeper, off duty at the time, was asleep in bed, but his wife awoke him as she observed the fog settling upon the water. He dressed hurriedly, and rushed to see what his companion was doing. This official had failed lamentably in his duties. Instead of starting the boiler fires to raise the steam to work the siren upon the first signs of the approaching enemy, as he should have done, he had delayed the duty. The result was that an hour was wasted, and during this interval the unfortunate captain took his ship upon the rocks. To make matters worse, the keepers did not perceive the wreck until some two hours after the disaster, although they admitted that they heard the cries of people an hour and a half previously, but never suspected the cause of the turmoil.
The man on watch during the night maintains a keen lookout. The faintest signs of a gathering mist are sufficient to cause him to wake his assistant to manipulate the fog-signal, even if the precaution proves to be unnecessary. “It is better to be safe than sorry,” is the lighthouse-keeper’s motto; so he runs no risks.
When the gathering brightness of the dawn enables the form of the tower to be identified from a distance of several miles, the light is extinguished. Heavy curtains are drawn across the windows, not only to protect the lenses from the sun, but also to give a characteristic colour to the lantern. Thus, by daylight a lantern may appear to be a dull red or an intense black. To give a brilliant light by night and be a prominent landmark by day forms the dual duty of the guardian of the coast.
When the lantern has cooled, the keepers coming on the day shift have to clean the lamps and put them in order for service the following evening. Everything has to be overhauled and got ready for use at a moment’s notice. The oil reservoirs have to be examined and charged, and the panes of glass, with which the lantern is glazed, cleaned and brightened. The reflectors have to be polished, for they must be kept in a constant state of mirror-like brilliancy. All brasswork has to be cleaned and polished until it gleams like burnished gold, while the rooms must be washed and kept in the pink of condition, free from the smallest specks of dust.
The necessity for extreme cleanliness and spotlessness is emphasized in every lighthouse. The inspector has a highly-trained, quick eye for detecting carelessness, and he has one instinct developed peculiarly--the discovery of dust. He draws his fingers over everything, and squints quizzically at an object from all angles. Woe betide the keeper if the slightest trace of dirt is detected. Then the inspector closes the other eye, and the keeper receives a squint which does not augur well for his future. A few sharp, pointed remarks are rasped out, and it is not long before the relief-boat comes out with another man.
The engineers and other representatives of authority are remorseless. A man is judged from apparently trifling details. If he permits a door-knob to become sullied, he is just as likely to overlook the polishing of the lenses, or to perform some other vital task in a perfunctory manner.
One of the Stevensons achieved a peculiar notoriety among the Scottish keepers for his unbending attitude in this connection. He had a scent for dust and untidiness developed as keenly as that of a mouse for cheese. When his boat came alongside a light, and the keeper stepped forward to extend a helping hand, the eyes of the engineer scanned him searchingly. If the man’s appearance were not immaculate, trouble loomed ahead. This engineer maintained that if a man were indifferent to his own appearance, and permitted dust to collect upon his own clothes, he could not be trusted to maintain the delicate apparatus of a lighthouse in apple-pie order! What was more to the point, the engineer generally was correct in his deductions. He spared no effort to place the most responsible lights in the hands of men above suspicion in regard to cleanliness. Although, as this martinet confessed, nothing pained him more than to have words with any of his keepers, cleanliness had to be maintained.
When the keeper has completed his routine duties, he is at liberty to spend his leisure according to his inclinations. As a rule the men turn these periods to advantage. Reading is a popular recreation, and the authorities maintain a circulating library, the books being changed with every relief. But the men could accept twice as much literature as is available at present. Here a word should be said concerning the Lighthouse Literature Mission and its work, which is international. The idea was conceived by Mr. Samuel H. Strain, and the work is conducted from Belfast, Ireland. The most conspicuous feature of this organization is that every penny received is turned to good and useful purpose in connection with the object. The founder conducts it without monetary reward, so that the item of “operating” charges does not swamp the greater proportion of receipts, as is the case with so many so-called missions in other fields. There are few organizations which are so deserving of financial support, because this mission brings welcome relaxation to a hard-worked community whose vigil secures the safety of those who travel on the sea. The labours of Mr. Strain are highly appreciated by those who keep watch and ward in seagirt prisons, and the mission deserves far stauncher support from the philanthropic than it receives at present. Sympathizers with the loneliness of the lighthouse-keeper are prone to think that these men are in dire need of spiritual pabulum, and are apt to send literature of an emphatic goody-goody nature. But the keeper of the light is as human as the clerk in the city. He is so accustomed to the company of Nature, and has cultivated such a deep respect for the Master of the Universe during his spells of duty, that he welcomes a diversion therefrom in his hours of leisure. A humorous paper is more welcome than a tract on the evils of drink.
When the weather is favourable the men seek a little relaxation in fishing, but here again they have to suffer considerable denial, as the tackle invariably becomes inextricably entangled with the rocks, so that the losses exceed the prizes. In the United States the greater number of the keepers maintain a garden well stocked with vegetables and flowers. The tending of these charges carries the minds of the men from their work completely, and for the opportunity to practise this hobby they are indebted to the kindness of the Government, which supplies seeds free of charge.
It is when the gale is raging tumultuously that the men in the tower are compelled to realize their position. The waves pound the rock and building so ceaselessly and relentlessly that the latter trembles and shakes like a leaf. At times the din is so deafening that the men cannot converse; they are compelled to communicate with each other by signs. The waves pick up stones and hurl them with terrific force against the lantern. Occasionally the elements triumph in their assault, and the missiles shatter the glass. To step out on the gallery in the teeth of a blizzard to clear the snow away demands no little courage. As the man emerges upon the narrow platform, he is engulfed in the swirling flakes, and often is pinned against the masonry so tightly by the wind that he cannot move a limb; at other times he is swept almost off his feet. While engaged in his freezing task, he also runs the risk of being drenched by a rising comber.
The men on the lonely, exposed Tillamook Rock, off the Oregon coast, have had more than one occasion to respect the storm-fiend. One night, while a fearful gale was raging, a huge mass of rock was torn away from the islet, snatched by the waves, and thrown high into the air. It fell with terrific force upon the dome of the lantern, splintering the roof and smashing the light, so that no welcome rays could be thrown from the tower again that night. The keepers at once set to work with the fog-signal, and during the hours of darkness worked like slaves, blaring out a warning by sound which they were unable to give visually.
Fortunately, such an experience as befell the keepers of the American Thimble Shoal light is very rare. This beacon marks the shoal of that name, and is, or rather was, a screw-pile iron lighthouse, marking 11 feet of water at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, Virginia, U.S.A. On December 27, 1909, the keepers were immersed in their tasks, when there was a terrible crash followed by a dismal rending and splitting. The building shivered from top to bottom. The keepers were thrown off their feet, and when they regained their wits they found that the schooner _Malcolm Baxter Junior_, while being towed by a tug, had blundered into them, and had carried a considerable portion of the building away. The impact upset the light; the scattered oil burst into flame, and within a few minutes the lighthouse was blazing like a gigantic bonfire. The keepers stuck to their posts, and endeavoured frantically to extinguish the outbreak, but their efforts were too puny to make any impression. At last, when a foothold was no longer possible with safety, and under extreme pressure, they abandoned their charge. When the flames had completed their destructive work the lighthouse presented a sorry sight, being a mass of broken and twisted ironwork. A wooden tower was erected with all despatch, and a fog-signal was installed, so that the men could carry on their duties while the reconstruction of the station was hurried forward.
The keepers turn their hands to strange occupations. Fretwork, wood-carving, poker-work, and similar hobbies, are practised freely. A few devote their leisure to intellectual improvement to fit them for other walks in life. The keeper of Windward Point, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, devoted his energies to studying, and obtaining diplomas in, mechano-therapy and suggestive therapeutics, as well as becoming proficient in Esperanto. The keepers of two other American lights set themselves to the mastery of jurisprudence, and in due course resigned their positions and rented offices in the city, where in the course of a few years they built up very remunerative legal practices. As a rule the lighthouse-keeper is an expert handy-man, as he is compelled to complete a whole list of duties in addition to maintaining the lights. In the summer the metal and wooden lights have to be given a coat of paint, while plumbing and other displays of skill in metal have to be carried out, even if only temporarily.
The calling is exceedingly healthy, which accounts for the immunity from illness which these men enjoy. Also, as a rule, the land-lights are set amidst wild romantic surroundings. Some years ago a number of American families, in the search for a quiet, health-restoring rest, were in the habit of spending their vacations at lighthouses, to the financial profit of the keepers. Eventually, however, the authorities, fearing that the keeper might be distracted from his duties, issued a summary order forbidding this practice, much to the disgust of the men, and “attractive lighthouse apartments” became a thing of the past. In Great Britain an order was issued that “no ale or other intoxicating liquor be allowed to be sold in any lighthouse.” The precise reason for this strange ordinance is not quite clear, but it is significant to note that it came into force immediately after the disastrous fire at the Leasowe lighthouse, on the Wirral shore.
The lighthouse invariably is an object of attraction among the general public, but this interest seldom goes to the length narrated by a keeper of one of the West Indian lights. One night two of the men at this particular station decided to hunt for red crabs on the beach below. They started off with a hurricane lamp, but were astonished, when they gained the foreshore, to see a large sloop hard and fast on the reef, although the night was beautifully clear and the light was burning brilliantly. With much effort the keepers got out their dory, put off to the wreck, and endeavoured to get the sloop out of her uncomfortable position, but, finding her too well fixed, took off the passengers. The survivors were housed in the keepers’ quarters until next morning, when they were succoured. The head-keeper asked the captain how he managed to get into such a position, and to his surprise learned that, as the passengers were anxious to obtain a clear close view of the light, the master had stood inshore, not knowing that the reef over which vigil was mounted ran out far into the water. That navigator paid dearly for his attempt to satisfy curiosity. His sloop broke up, since she was impaled too firmly to be salvaged.
It is not often that the utter loneliness and monotony of the daily round unhinges a keeper’s mind, but this awful fate overtook the warden of a somewhat isolated American light. The man had served with Admiral Dewey off Manila, and upon his return home the Government placed him in charge of a station as an occupation for the evening of his life, and as a recompense for faithful service. He settled down with his wife and family, but the isolation soon began to affect his brain. For days he would absent himself from the light, which would soon have failed had it not been for the unswerving devotion of his wife and the assistance of one of two friends living in the locality. They spared no effort to keep the beacon burning, lest the authorities might hear about the keeper’s strange behaviour, and deprive him of his charge, and, incidentally, of his livelihood. In due course the incident did reach the authorities, and, not knowing what was the matter with the man, they took action accordingly. As the keeper entered the station after one of his inexplicable expeditions of a fortnight’s duration, he was arrested for desertion. He was examined promptly by two doctors, who found him hopelessly insane, and was incarcerated in an asylum, where in the course of a few days he became a raving lunatic.
Often the keepers, although only condemned to imprisonment for a certain period at a time, have to tolerate a longer stay, owing to the relief-boat being unable to approach them. In some instances the delay may run into five weeks or more. During the winter the relief of the Eddystone, Longships, Wolf, Fastnet, Skerryvore, and Dhu-Heartach lights is always a matter of extreme uncertainty. Although the men have to provide themselves with supplies, a reserve is maintained at the station by the authorities for such emergencies. Even some of the land stations are not approachable readily. There is the Punta Gorda light-station on the Californian coast, the situation of which is wild and forbidding. There is a landing about eight miles above the station, but it is extremely precarious. Still, unless a certain element of risk is accepted in coming ashore here, it is necessary to face a tramp or stage journey of nearly fifty miles across country in order to gain the lighthouse.
The lighthouses in the Red Sea are, perhaps, among the most unenviable and trying in the world. This stretch of water, lying between two blistered coasts of sand, is no more or less than an oven, where even the strongest constitution finds it difficult to hold out for long. Moreover, the absence of civilization, owing to the extreme aridity of the country, renders the life exceptionally depressing. In the summer the heat is wellnigh intolerable. The thermometer hovers between 95° and 110° F. in the shade throughout the twenty-four hours, so that night brings no relief to the oppressiveness.
At some of the stations the men seek a little diversion, and incidentally add occasionally to their pocket-money, by shark-catching, which is a tolerably profitable pursuit, since these waters are thickly infested with this fish. The jawbone and backbone invariably find ready purchasers, the former being mounted as a curiosity, while the backbone forms a novel and serviceable walking-stick.
One method of trapping these monsters which affords keen delight was related to me. The requirements are an electric battery, some rope, a few feet of electric wire, a cartridge, and an empty box, with a chunk or two of bad meat. The cartridge is fitted with an electric primer, the wire of which stretches to the battery. This cartridge is buried in a hunk of meat, the whole being dangled from a box--an empty cask is better--which serves as a float, while a rope is stretched from the box to the shore, with the electric wire spirally wound round it. A short length of chain is preferable, if available, to attach the bait to the float, but a short piece of rope will do. This novel line is thrown into the water, and the man keeps his eye on the float, with one finger on the battery. The hungry shark, espying the tempting morsel, makes a grab and swallows it, but the chain prevents him tearing away with it. The pull causes the float to disappear, the man’s finger presses the button, and the trick is done. There is an explosion, and pieces of shark and showers of water fly into the air. The incident is all over too quickly for the fish to marvel about the strange indigestibility of the tainted meat he grabbed so greedily. The men enjoy this sport hugely when it can be followed, as they regard the shark with intense detestation.
Despite the vigilance of the various Powers, slave-running is still a lucrative business on these forbidding coasts. Now and again a forced labourer gets away from his taskmaster, and comes panting into the lighthouse territory. This is sanctuary to the hapless wretch, and although the keepers invariably receive a call from the runaway’s master, he meets with scant courtesy, while his demand for the surrender of the fugitive is answered by a point-blank refusal. The slave-driver may storm, threaten, and abuse, to his heart’s content, and, as he is generally a past-master in Arabian invective, the keepers have to listen to a pretty tune. But the slave is kept in the lighthouse until the relief-tender makes its periodical call, when he is taken back to Suez and liberated.
Fortunately, owing to the extreme care that is manifested by the authorities, mishaps at a lighthouse are few and far between. The men are supplied with rules and regulations which are drawn up with an eye for every possible emergency. Yet accidents will happen, due in the majority of instances to familiarity bred of contempt. The majority of these calamities occur in connection with the explosive fog-signalling apparatus, although every device is adopted to safeguard the men. At one of the Scottish stations a keeper was manipulating the fog-signal, but, flying in the face of instructions, he caused the charge to explode prematurely. The man escaped injury, but the detonation shattered several panes of glass in the lantern.
One of the keepers of the Rathlin light, on Altacarry Head, was not so fortunate. The White Star Canadian liner _Megantic_ was rounding the corner of Ireland to enter the last lap of the homeward journey one Saturday evening, when the captain’s attention was arrested by a signal of distress flying from the lighthouse. The interpretation of the signal revealed the fact that a doctor was wanted, so, easing up the ship, he lowered a boat, and the doctor was sent away to the island. Upon landing he found one of the men in dire straits. He had been cleaning the fog-gun, when a charge, which had been left in the weapon inadvertently upon the last occasion it was used, exploded. The man’s arm had been wrenched off, and he was burned terribly. It was a stroke of luck that the liner hove in sight at the moment she did. There was no chance of extending succour to the injured man on the spot, and he would have died before a doctor could have been summoned by boat from Ballycastle, nine miles away. The surgeon bound up the man’s injuries, lowered him into his boat, and, on regaining the liner, placed him in the hospital, where he was tended until the vessel’s arrival in Liverpool, where he was landed and placed in hospital.
More remarkable was the accident which happened at the Flannen Islands light-station in 1900; it remains an unsolved mystery to this day. This is one of Scotland’s lonely lights, mounting guard over a group of islets fifteen miles off the Hebrides. On December 26 the relief-tender approached the station on her usual fortnightly visit, but, to the amazement of those on board, no signs of the keepers or the usual signals were to be seen, while the lantern was not dressed in its daylight garb. The crew landed hurriedly, wondering what was amiss. They found the lighthouse absolutely deserted; not a sign of any of the three keepers was to be seen or heard. They examined the log, and found that the light had not been burning for some days, the last entry being made about 4 a.m. nearly a week previously. The rock was searched, but yielded no clue to the mystery of the complete disappearance of the men. The light had not been abandoned; it had simply burned itself out. It was a fortunate circumstance that very little shipping frequents these seas during the winter, or there would have been one or two marine disasters, as the islands are often wrapped in fog.
It is surmised that one of the men ventured outside on to a rocky ledge in the early hours of the morning. According to the log, a vicious storm was raging at the time, and probably in the darkness the man was swept off his feet and carried into the sea. The second keeper on duty, marvelling at the non-return of his assistant, evidently had roused his other companion, and the two had instituted a search in the storm, only in turn to be caught by a wave and carried away.
In Great Britain, since 1860, men only have been employed by the Trinity House Brethren for the maintenance of the lights, but in the United States women still are engaged in this duty. Some of the British lights have been controlled by one family through two or three generations. It was only a few years ago that a Darling retired from the vigil on the Longstones of Farne Islands, the scene of Grace Darling’s heroism, while for a century and a half one family kept the South Foreland light faithfully. The Casquets light off Alderney, in the Channel Islands, was maintained by one family, some of the children spending the whole of their lives on the rock, son succeeding father at the post of duty.
On the American coast, however, women are more extensively employed. Seeing that many of the lights are burned in a low tower projecting from the dwelling-house, this circumstance may be readily understood, as the duties beyond the maintenance of the light are not exacting. One of the most notable instances, however, is the Point Pino light at the entrance to Monterey Bay, on the Californian coast, the guardianship of which has been in feminine hands for the past thirty years. For something approaching half a century a woman maintained the Michigan City harbour light on the Great Lake of that name. Indeed, the associations were so deep-rooted and long that the beacon became popularly known as “Miss Colfax’s light,” after the name of its keeper. Even when she attained the age of eighty years she was as active and attentive to her charge as on the day, in 1861, when she first assumed responsibility for its safe-keeping.
In those times there was a beacon established on the end of the wooden pier, which railed off an area of the restless lake for the purposes of the inland port. Those were strenuous days. Her home was on shore, and every night and morning she tramped the long arm of woodwork to light and extinguish the lamp. Lard-oil was used, and during the winter the food for the lamp had to be heated to bring it into a fluid condition before she set out from home. It was no easy matter struggling along on a blusterous, gusty evening, with a pail of hot oil in one hand and a lamp in the other, over a narrow plank. Often, when a gale was raging, progress was so slow that by the time the beacon was reached the oil had cooled and congealed, rendering it a difficult matter to induce the lamp to burn. Once set going, however, it was safe for the night, as the heat radiated from the burner kept the lard melted. In addition to this lamp, there was another light in the tower projecting from the roof of her house, which had to be maintained, and this, being the main light, was the more important of the two.
In 1886 the pier tower was taken out of her hands for ever. A furious gale, such as is peculiar to these inland seas, and which cannot be rivalled on the ocean for fury, was raging. At dusk she started on her usual journey. Time after time she was wellnigh swept off her feet, so that she staggered rather than walked, for the spray and sand flecking her face nearly blinded her. When she gained the tower she paused, and observed that it was trembling violently. Undismayed, she ascended, lit the light, and tramped back to the shore. Scarcely had she gained the mainland, when, glancing seawards, she saw the light sway from side to side for a second or two, and then make a dive into the water. A few moments later a crash reverberated above the noise of the storm: the decrepit pier had succumbed at last. Hers was a lucky escape, but she hurried home, and sat by the main light gleaming from her roof all that night, apprehensive that some vessel might endeavour to make the harbour and come to grief. When the pier was rebuilt, a new beacon was placed on its extremity, but its upkeep was taken over by the harbour authorities, leaving only the shore light in the trusty woman’s keeping, the wicks of which for over forty years were trimmed and lit at dusk, and extinguished with the dawn, with her own hands.
During the migratory season of the birds extraordinary sights are witnessed around the light at night. The brilliant glare attracts enormous flocks, which flit to and fro. As the monster flaming spoke swings round, the birds, evidently blinded by the glare, dash with such fury against the glass panes of the lantern as to flutter to the floor of the gallery with broken necks and wings, while large numbers, dazed or killed, fall into the water. The birds are of all species, and at times may be picked up by the basketful. Then the light-keepers are able to secure a welcome change in their dietary. Moths, too, often hover in clouds round the light, and are of such variety that an hour on the gallery would bring infinite delight and rich harvests to the youthful entomologist who has to be content to hunt around electric lamps in quiet streets at night.
While the lamp is burning, time cannot drag, owing to the multitude of details which compel the keeper’s constant attention. The official log has to be kept posted with a host of facts, such as temperature, barometric readings, weather conditions as they vary from hour to hour, behaviour of the lamps, etc.; while, when the lighthouse is a marine signal-station as well, passing ships have to be signalled and reported. The spell of labour varies from four to five hours or more. Obviously, the task is more exacting and arduous in the winter than in summer. During the former season the lamps have to be lighted as early as 3.15 p.m., and are not extinguished until eight o’clock the next morning. In the summer, on the other hand, the lamps may be required for less than six hours or so. In northern latitudes where the daylight is continuous owing to the midnight sun, the light scarcely seems necessary. Yet it is kept burning during the scheduled hours of darkness.
Thus, night in and night out the whole year round, a comparatively small band of faithful toilers keeps alert vigil over the dangers of the deep, for the benefit of those who “go down to the sea in ships, and do their business in great waters.” The safety of thousands of human lives and of millions sterling of merchandise is vested in their keeping. The resources of the shipbuilder, the staunchness of the ship, the skill and knowledge of the captain--all would count for nothing were it not for the persistent, steady glare of the fixed, the twinkling of the occulting, or the rhythmic, monotonous turning spokes of the revolving light, thrown over the waste of waters from the lighthouse and the lightship.
INDEX
Aberbrothock, Abbot of, 96
Acetylene: as illuminant, Daléngas, 49, 274; systems for floating lighthouses, 238, 278, 285-95; cost of lighting by, 282; dissolved, French system of using, 291; use in Sweden, 291-94
Acetylene gun, the, 68-71
Admiralty, the: adoption of the siren, 60-61; use of the Wigham light, 296
Adriatic shoreline, 203
“Aga” principle of lighting, 274, 277, 291, 293; adopted by the United States, 294-95
Ailly, Pointe d’, 303
Ailsa Crag, system of fog-signalling, 63-65, 66
Alaska: trade of, 173; controlled by the Lighthouse Board, 206; unattended lighthouses, 277; coastline 284
Alderney coastline, 12-13
Alexander, Lieutenant B. S., the Minot’s ledge-light, 8, 179
Alexandria, Pharos of, 2-3
Allerton Point lighthouse, 6
Altacarry Head, 313
Ambrose Channel, 251
American Thimble Shoal lighthouse, 308
Amour Point light, 169
Anderson, Lieutenant-Colonel William P., 172, 174, 217
_Anglo-Saxon_, Allan liner, wreck, 163-64
Anticosti, 171
Antifer, Cap d’, lighthouse, 39
Antipodes, the, 239
Arbroath, 97
Arena Point, 204
Argand burner, the, 47, 55, 79, 219
Argyll, Duke of, 115; lays foundation-stone of Skerryvore, 105
Ar-men light, Finisterre, 20-24
Arthur, Port, 214, 217
_Assyrian_, the, wreck, 164
Astoria, 13, 185, 188, 193
Auckland coastline, 236, 237, 238 harbour, 238 Islands, 239
Auer, Dr. von, the incandescent mantle, 47-48
Australia: lighthouses of, 229-39; unattended lighthouses, 283
Austria, lighthouses, 48
Bache, General Hartmann, 63; Brandywine Shoal light, 200-201
“Back lights,” 20
Ballantyne, A., the Tillamook Rock lighthouse, 185-95
Ballycastle, 313
Baltic Sea, unattended lighthouses of the, 274, 278, 291
Bar lightship, Mersey, 240
Barnard, General, the Minot’s Ledge light, 178-82
Barra Head, 113
Barra Island, 113
Barsier rock, 269
Bauld Cape light, 169
“Bay of the Dead,” Finisterre, 21, 22
Beachy Head lighthouse, 24-27, 94
Belfast, 306
Bell Rock lighthouse, 9; lighting, 53; fog-signals, 59; the reef, 96-97
Bell-buoys, 68
Belle Ile, 51; the beacons, 169; the Northern light, 170-71; the Southern light, 169; the auxiliary light, 169-70; isolation of, 171
Belle Ile, Straits of, 162, 163, 169
Bells: on lighthouses, 58; submarine, 249-50
Biscay, Bay of, gales, 3-4
Bishop Rock lighthouse, 38, 51, 81-87
Black Prince, the, in Gascony, 4
Black Sea, lighthouses on the, 18-19
Blau liquid gas, 48-49
“Blowing-holes,” 62-63
Bluff, the, 236
Bois Blanc Island, 211
Bordeaux, trade of, 3-4
Boston Harbour: lighting, 6, 33-4, 196; Minot’s Ledge light, 176-82
Bothnia, Gulf of, unattended lighthouses, 268, 274
Bounty Islands, 239
Bourdelles, M., investigations, 56, 219
Brandywine Shoal light, 200-201
Brebner, Alexander, 117
“Breeches-buoy,” used at Tillamook Rock, 187-89
Bréhat, Heaux de, Reynaud’s tower, 149-53
Bréhat, Isle of, 149
Bremerhaven, 132, 138, 139, 141
Brett, Cape, lighthouse, 238
Brewster, Sir David, lighting methods, 29
Bridges and Roads, Department of, 148
Bristol Channel: the Flat Holme light, 7; unattended lighthouses, 278-79
British Columbia coastline, 284
Brittany coastline, 148
Brothers light, the, 234-35
Bull Rock lighthouse, 39
Bullivant cableways, 25-26
Bungaree Norah. _See_ Norah Head
Buoys: bell and whistle, 68; gas-buoys, 244; the Willson, 286-89; combined light and whistling, 290
Büsun, 226
Byron Bay, 232
Byron Cape, 232
Cabrillo Point light, 205
Calf Rock light, 123
California coastline, 204
Campbell, General, 270
Campbell Island, 239
Canadian Marine Department, 8; systems of building, 18-19; fog-signalling apparatus, 66-68; lighting of the coastline, 161-75; lighting of the Great Lakes, 208-17; floating lighthouses, 286
Caribou Island lighthouse, 216-17
Carmel Head, 94
Carolina, North, 240
Carrington, W. H. T., 25
Casquets lighthouse: the approach to, 12-13; keepers of the, 314
Castle Point lighthouse, 238
Casuarina Island, 55
Catoptric system of lighting, 28
Centre Island lighthouse, 237
Chance Bros. and Co.: systems of lighting, 33, 36, 42, 55, 256; the hyperradiant method, 38-39; lenses, 40; clockwork mechanism, 43-44; the incandescent mantle, 48; works carried out by, 53, 222
Channel Islands coastline, 269
Charles, Cape, 200
Chatham Island, 239
_Chauffer_, the, 4-6
Chesapeake Bay lights, 199, 200, 308
Chicken Rock light, 9, 94, 238
China, coast-lighting, 258-59
Clear, Cape, 121
Coffin Island, 171
Cohasset Rocks, 177
Colchester Reef lighthouse, 210, 216
Colfax: “Miss Colfax’s light,” 315-16
Collinson, Sir Richard, rocket system invented by, 58-59
“Colossus,” the Rothersand caisson, 138-9
Colton family, the, 170
Columbia River, 183, 184, 185
Colza oil as illuminant, 46, 47
Concrete, reinforced, use of, 18, 174
Cook’s Strait, 233, 234, 237
Cordouan, rocks of, 4
Cordouan, Tour de, 4-5, 30
Cornish plunderers of the Wolf Rock, 88
Corunna lighthouse, 3
Couedie, Cap de, lighthouse, 55
Courtenay, whistling device, 290
Creach, electric light at, 156
Daboll, C. L., invention of the trumpet fog-signal, 59, 60
Dalén, Gustaf: the sun-valve, 49; system of lighting, 274, 275, 291; unattended lights, 269; honour for, 291 note; experiments, 292-93
Danger Point, 230
Darling, Grace, 95, 314
Daudet, Alphonse, “Phares de Sanguinaires,” 93
Delaware Bay, 143, 199, 200
Denmark, coastline, lighting, 48
Detroit River, Lower, 208
“Deviline” toy whistle, 61
Dewey, Admiral, 310
Dhu-Heartach lighthouse, 9, 107, 113-20, 311
Diamond Shoal, dangers of, 205-6; the lightship, 251-53
“Diaphone,” the, 67, 68, 165
Dieppe, 303-304
Differential arc, use of, 227-28
Dioptric system of lighting, 37, 220
Disappointment Cape lighthouse, 186
Distances, table of, 52
“Divergence,” 39
Dog Island lighthouse, 237
Doty burner, the, 238
“Double-shell” principle of construction, 200
Douglass, Sir James: design for the new Eddystone, 78-80; preservation of the Bishop Rock, 86-87; system of lighting, 223
Douglass, William, and the Fastnet, 123
Dover Harbour lightship, 245
Dover, the pharos at, 3
Doyle Fort, 271-74
_Drummond Castle_, wreck, 148
Dues, lighthouse, 4, 7, 239
Duluth, 214
Duncansby Head, 108
Dunedin, N.Z., 236
Dungeness light, 94
Dunkirk, 249
Earraid, 115, 116
East Cape, N.Z., 236
East Indies Archipelago, 257
Eddystone lighthouse: lighting of, 38, 41, 55; fog-signals, 59; description, 72, 82; the Winstanley construction, 73-4; John Rudyerd’s lighthouse, 74, 75, 94; Smeaton’s work, 75, 78, 80; the Douglass tower, 78-80; keepers of, 311
“Eddystones,” 72
Edinburgh, Duke of, 79
Egmont, Cape, 233
Electricity: as luminant, 50-51, 148, 218, 295-96; used in operation of derrick, 159
_Eider_ lightship, 249
Erie, Lake, 208, 216
Estevan Point light, 174
Fair Isle lighthouse, 39
“Family of Engineers (A),” 8-9
Faraday, Professor, 218
Farallon Beacon, 205
Farallon Isles, fog-signalling on, 63
Farne Islands, 95, 314
Faro, the, 3
Fastnet lighthouse, 121-31; lighting, 41; keepers, 311
Ferro-concrete, use in construction, 18-19
_Feu-éclair_, the, 56
Finisterre, Cape, 3; the Ar-men light, 20-24
Fire Island lighthouse, 250
Fire Island lightship, 240, 242, 250
Fisher’s Island Sound, 203
Flamborough Head light, 95
Flannen Islands lighthouse, 9, 113; disappearance of keepers, 313-14
Flat Holme light, the, 7
Florida coastline, 201
“Focal point,” 39
Fog-signals: discharge of guns, 57-58; rockets, 58-59; explosion of gun-cotton, 59; the Daboll trumpet, 59-60; the siren, 60-62; blowing-holes, 62-63; installation on Ailsa Crag, 63-66; diaphone on Ailsa Crag, 66-68; the acetylene gun, 68-71; diaphone at Cape Race, 165; Belle Ile diaphone, 170
Foix, Louis de, 4-5, 8
_Forfarshire_, the, 95, 314
Forteau Bay, 169
Forth, Firth of, lighthouses in, 7, 218-19
Fourteen Foot Bank, 132, 143-47
Foveaux Strait, 237
Fowey Rocks lights, 201-3
French coast: lighting of, 148; lightships, 243, 249
French Lighthouse Commission (1811), 29
Fresnel, Augustin: system of lighting, 28, 33, 286; adopted by the United States, 36
Gap Rock lighthouse and signal-station, 264
Gas Accumulator Company, of Stockholm, 49, 274, 291
Gas as illuminant, the incandescent mantle, 47-48
Gasfeten tower, 274
Gedney’s Channel, lighting of, 295-96
General Superintendent of Lights, office of, 197-98
Georgian Bay, 216
Gerholmen light-boat, 294
Germany: coastline of, lighting, 48, 50-51; the lightship service, 249-50
Gironde lighthouse, 19
Gironde, the, rocks of the estuary, 3-4
Goodwin Sands, 205, 240, 244-45, 248
Grand Banks, the, 163
Grande Braye Rock, 296
Grand Trunk Pacific, 173
Granite, use of, 18
Great Lakes of North America: lighting of the, 27, 173, 208-17; Lighthouse Board, control of, 206; floating lighthouses, 286
Green Cape lighthouse, 232-33
“Grouting,” 27
Guantanamo Bay, 308
Guernsey coast lighthouse, 9, 16; unattended lights, 269
Gun-cotton, explosion of, 58, 59
Halifax Harbour: lights, 192; the “Outer Automatic,” 290
Halpin, George, the Fastnet lighthouse, 121-23, 129
Hand Deeps, 79
Hanois lighthouse, 16
Hargreaves, Riley and Co., 260
Harkort, Society of, Duisburg, 133-34: the Rothersand contract, 136-43
Hatteras, Cape: coastline, 147, 251-53; sandbanks, 205-6, 240
Hauraki Gulf, 238
Hawaiian Islands, 206
Hebrides, lighthouses of the, 112, 313
Heligoland lighthouse, 133, 218; use of the rocket system, 59; the electric installation, 224-26
Hellespont, Sigeum lighthouse, 2
Henlopen Cape, light, 199
Hennebique system, 260
Henry, Cape, lighthouse, 20, 199-200
Héve, Cape, lighthouse, 218, 219
_Hinemoa_, New Zealand Government steamer, 235, 236, 238
Hoheweg lighthouse, 138
Hole-in-the-Wall, Vancouver, 174
Holland coastline, 48
Holmes, Professor, fog-horns, 60-62, 64, 66, 218
Holophotal revolving apparatus, 33
Hong-Kong, 264
“Hoo-doo,” 91
Horaine, plateau of, 153-56
Horn, Cape, 268
Hornum light, the electric installation, 226-28
Howe, Cape, 230, 232
_Huddart Parker_, liner, wreck, 236
Hudson Bay coastline, 268
Hugo, Victor, “The Toilers of the Sea,” 269
Hunting Island tower, South Carolina, 19-20
Huron, Lake, 211
Hynish harbour, 107
“Hyperradiant,” the, 37, 41; the quicksilver trough, 42-43
“Ice-breakers,” 201
“Ice-stoves,” 200-201, 210
Inchcape. _See_ Bell Rock
Ingrey, Charles, scheme for Ailsa Crag, 64, 66
Invercargill, 237
Iona, 100
Ireland, Congested Districts Board beacons, 282-83
Irish lights, Commissioners of, 7; the Fastnet, 123, 127
Iron, use in construction, 19-20
Islay, 298
Jamaica coastline, lighting, 283
Japan, coastline, lighthouses, 9-10, 257-58
Java, 257
Jersey coastline, 243
Jument of Ushant, 156, 160
Karachi, unattended light, 281
Kavanagh, James, the Fastnet, 125, 128
“Kingdom of Heaven,” 92
Labrador coastline, 169, 268
Lagerholmen lighthouse, 278
Lampaul, Bay of, 157
Land’s End coastline, 247
Lard-oil as fuel, 46, 47
Leasowe lighthouse, 16; fire at, 309
Lenses, preparation, 39, 40
Lewes, Delaware, 144
Lewis, Isle of, 113
Lewis, Winslow, invention of, 34, 35
“Light-boats,” 294
Lighthouse Board, U.S.A., 178-79
Lighthouse dues, origin, 4, 7; levy of, 7, 239
Lighthouse Literature Mission, 306
Lighthouses, construction of, 174; wooden towers, 198; electric, of the world, 218-28; unattended, 267-83; floating, 284-300
Lighting: candles, 33; Fresnel system, 28-33; holophotal revolving apparatus, 33; hyperradiants, 33-41; sperm-oil, 46; colza-oil, 46-47; lard-oil, 46, 47; petroleum, 47-48, 296-98; paraffin, 47-48; oil-gas, 48-49, 296; various gases, 49-50; electric lighting, 50-51, 148, 295-96; acetylene system, 69-71, 238, 291
Light-keepers, life of the, 301-17
Lights: wood or coal in open braziers, 28; tallow candles, 28; indentification of, 32; classification of, 37, 44-45; “divergence,” 39; focal point, 39; white and coloured, 45-46; candle-power, 51, 53; subsidiary, 53-55; duration of flash in revolving, 55-56
Lightships: the Stevenson unattended, 70; maintenance of, 240-41; description, 241-42; the Minquiers light, 243-44; average crew for, 244-45; incidents, 244-55; illuminating apparatus, 255-57
“Light valve,” the Dalén, 275-78
Lipson’s Reef, 55
Little Brewster Island lighthouse, 196-197
Lizard Head, 72, 82, 94
Lizard lighthouse, 94, 218
Lloyd’s, signalling-station at the Fastnet, 131
Longfellow, lines to Minot’s Ledge light, 176
Longships light, 82, 92, 311
Longstones lighthouse, 95, 314
Louis XIV. and the Eddystone, 75
Lundy Island, 92
_Lupata_, sailing-ship, wreck, 183
_Lusitania_, French emigrant steamer, wreck, 164
_Ly-ce-moon_, steamer, wreck, 233
Mackinac, Strait of, 211
Macquarie, tower, 231
Magellan, Straits of, 268; unattended lighthouses, 274-75
Malacca Straits lighthouse, 257; One Fathom Bank, 259-64
Malay Peninsula, 257
_Malcolm Baxter Junior_, schooner, collision with the lighthouse, 308
Man, Isle of, Chicken Rock light, 94
Manacles, wrecks on the, 7
Manilla, 310
Manora breakwater, the Wigham light, 281
Manora Point light, Karachi, 39-41
Maria Van Diemen, Cape, lighthouse, 237, 238
Marine and Fisheries, Department of, Canada, 171
Marine Department, New Zealand, 233
Matthews, Sir Thomas, 26; light designed by, 278-79, 299
May, Isle of, lighthouse, 7, 218-23
_Megantic_, White Star liner, 313
Meldrum, Sir John, the North Foreland lighthouse, 81
Mendocino, Cape, lighthouse, 204-5
Ménier, Henri, 171
Mercury float, the, 42, 43, 56
Meriten (De), dynamos, 221, 223
Mersey lightship, 240
Mew Island lighthouse, 38, 41
Mexico, Gulf of, coastline, 201
Michigan City Harbour light, 315-16
Michigan Lake, lighting of, 208, 211, 214, 215, 217
Minches, the, 112, 113
_Minnehaha_, wreck of the, 82, 83
Minot’s Ledge light, 11, 74, 204; Captain Swift’s tower, 176-78; General Barnard’s structure, 178-82
Minquiers lightship, 243-44
_Mohegan_ wreck, 7
Moko Hinou, 238
Monach Island light, 113
“Monolithic” method of construction, 16-19
Montagu Island lighthouse, 30-31
Monterey Bay, 315
Morocco, Cape Spartel light, 207
Moye system of lighting, 69
Muckle Flugga, 109-112
Mull, Isle of, 102, 115
Mull of Kintyre, 108
Murray, Hon. A., 260
Nantucket Shoals lightship, 250
Navesink lighthouse, 51, 218
Needles light, the, 94
New Jersey coastline, 218
New London, Connecticut, Race Rock lighthouse, 203-4
New South Wales, lighthouses of, 230, 231, 232-33
New York Harbour: lighting, 218, 295; lightships, 251
New Zealand: system of lighting, 33; lighthouses of, 229-30, 233-35; the lighthouse-keepers, 235; unattended lighthouses, 268
Newfoundland coastline, 162, 169
Newhaven, 303
“No. 87” lightship, 251
Norah Head lighthouse, 232
Norderney lightship, 242, 249
Nore lightship, 240, 242, 245
_Norge_ liner, wreck, 299
Norman Cape light, 169
North Cape, New Zealand, lighthouse, 237, 238
North Foreland light, 81
North German Lloyd Atlantic liners, 132, 137
North Island, New Zealand, coastline, 233
North Ronaldshay lighthouse, 33
North Unst lighthouse, 9, 109, 110-12
Northern lighthouses, Commissioners of, 8-10, 37, 63, 64, 94, 96, 100-02, 105, 109, 114, 219
North-West lightship (Mersey), 240
Nova Scotia: Sable Island lighthouse, 166; floating lighthouses, 285, 290
Nuremberg, tests carried out at, 225-26
Oil-gas, compressed, use of, 48, 296
One Fathom Bank lighthouse, 259-64
“One-tenth flash,” 294
Ontario Lake, 217
Oregon coastline, 13, 195
Orkneys coastline, 108, 109
Otter Rock lightship, 9, 297-99
Ouessant, Ile d’. _See_ Ushant
“Outer Automatic,” Halifax Harbour, 290
Outer Diamond Shoal lightship, 147
Outer Minot light, 177, 178
Panama Canal, unattended lighthouses, 277
“Panels,” system of dividing the light by, 31-32
Paraffin, use of, 47
Paris Exhibition of 1867, 61
_Paris_, wreck of the, 7
Parry sound, 216
Patents granted for upkeep of beacons, 5-6
Pei Yu-Shan lighthouse, 39
Pencarrow Head lighthouse, 234
Pentland Firth, 108
Pentland Skerries light, 109
Petroleum gas, use of, 47, 48, 279, 296-98
_Phare_, the term, 3
_Phares, Service des_, 19, 148, 219
_Pharos_, constructional vessel, 110
Pharos, the, Dover, 3; of Alexandria, 2-3
Philippines coastline, 206
Phœnicians, beacons erected by the, 3
Pilgrim Fathers, the, and lighthouses, 6
Pilotage, Board of, Sweden, experiments with acetylene, 292, 293-94
Pino Point lighthouse, 315
Pladda, Island of, 64
Planier lighthouse, 219
Platte Fougère, land-controlled station of, 269-74, 283
Pleasanton, Stephen, 197-98
Plenty, Bay of, 236
Plymouth Harbour, 72
Plymouth Hoe, 80
Poe, General O. M., Spectacle Reef lighthouse, 211-14
Portland Canal, 173
Portland, Duke of, lighthouse on the Isle of Man, 7
Portland stone, used for building Eddystone, 76
Port of Dublin Corporation, 121
Potomac, ice-shores of the, 200-201
Potron, Charles Eugène, generosity of, 157, 159-60
Prince Rupert, port of, 173, 284
Pulsometer Engineering Company, Reading, 66
Punta Gorda light-station, 311
Puysegur Point, 237
Queenstown harbour floating light, 297
Race, Cape, lighthouse, 39, 43; the lens, 40-41; clockwork mechanism, 43; fog-signalling apparatus, 67; dangers of, 162-64; the first beacon, 164-65; the new beacon, 165
Race Rock lighthouse, 203-4
Ralph the Rover, 96
Rame Head, 72
Rathlin light, 313
Rattray Briggs lighthouse, 9
Ray, Cape, 164
Red Rock lighthouse, 210, 216
Red Sea lighthouses, 311
Rennie, John, the Bell Rock light, 97
Reyes Point, 205
Reynaud, Léonce, tower on the Heaux de Bréhat, 149-53
Rhins of Islay, 113
Ribière, 8
Rock Island, 124
Rock of Ages lighthouse, 210, 214-15, 216
Rockall, the, 299-300
Rockets, use of, 58-59
Rose of Mull, the, 113
Rothersand lighthouse, 11, 218; the first attempt, 132-36; work of the Society Harkort, 136-43
Round Island lighthouse, 39
Royale, Isle, 214
Rudyerd, John, the Eddystone lighthouse, 74, 75, 92-93
Russell Channel, the, 269-70
Russian lighthouse authorities, 18
Rutingen lightship, 242, 249
Sable Island, 162; description, 165-66; lighthouses and chief station, 166-67; the west end light, 167-68; the east end light, 168
St. Agnes light, 81
St. Catherine’s Downs, 223
St. Catherine’s lighthouse, 55, 94, 218; the electric installation, 223-24
St. Clair, Lake, 208
St. David’s Head, 92
St. John’s, Newfoundland, 164
St. Kilda, 300
St. Lawrence, Gulf of, 163; dangers, 171
St. Lawrence River: fog-signalling apparatus, 66-68; entrance, 162; the ice, 172; lighting of the, 172-73
St. Malo Harbour, 243
St. Mary’s, 85
St. Peter Port lighthouse, 269-70
Sambro Island lighthouse, 162
Samoan Islands, American, controlled by the Lighthouse Board, 206
San Francisco: bay, 63; coastline, 205
Sand, lighthouses built on, 132-47
Sandbanks, signposts of the, 240-56
Sandy Hook lighthouse, 199, 295
Sarnia, 216
_Salara_, the, wreck, 232-33
Sault Ste. Marie, 216
Scammon’s Harbour, 212
_Schiller_, German packet, wreck of, 86
Schukert, 225
Scilly Island, 81, 82, 247
Scotland: lighting, 50; sea-rock lights of, 96; the coastline, 108
_Scotsman_, Dominion liner, 171
Scott, C. W., and the Fastnet, 123-24, 129
Scott, Sir Walter, _quoted_, 100, 101
“Screw-pile lighthouses,” 19, 83, 200-203, 261-62
Sea-rock lighthouses, construction, 20 _et seq._
Serrin-Berjot lamps, 221-23
Seven Hunters. _See_ Flannen Islands
Seven Stones lightship, 242, 248-49
Seven Wonders of the world, 2
Shark-catching, 311-12
Sherman, General, 211
Shetlands coastline, 108-109
Shovel, Sir Cloudesley, 82
Sigeum lighthouse, on the Hellespont, 2
Singapore, 257
Siren, the, developments, 59-60, 159
Skerries light, 94
Skerryvore lighthouse, 11, 59, 100-107, 113, 311
Slave-running, 312
Slight, Mr., the modern siren, 62
Smalls, The, 92-93
Smeaton, John, the Eddystone lighthouse, 8, 75-78, 80
_Smeaton_, the, 97-99
Smith, Thomas, 9, 219
Solent, the, 94
Sound, aberration of, 68
South Carolina, lighthouses of, 19-20
South Foreland lighthouse: lighting, 38, 95; electricity adopted, 218-19; keepers of the, 314
South Island, N.Z., coastline, 237
South Solitary Island lighthouse, 230, 231
South Stock light, 94
Southey, ballad of the Bell Rock, 96
Spain, early beacons, 3
Spartel Cape lighthouse, 207, 300
Spectacle Reef lighthouse, 74, 210-14, 215-16
Sperm-oil, as luminant, 46
“Spider-web braces,” 201
Spurn Point lighthouse, 38-39
Standard Oil Co., 282
Stannard’s Rock lighthouse, 214, 216
Start Point, 94
Stephens Island, 233
Stevenson, Alan: “Skerryvore,” 9, 100-107; improvements in lighting, 32-33; table of distances by, 51-52
Stevenson, Charles, 9
Stevenson, David, “North Unst,” 9
Stevenson, David and Charles: the acetylene gun, 68-71; the unattended light, 269; the Platte Fougère fog-signal, 270-71; the Otter Rock light, 297; scheme for Rockall, 300
Stevenson, David and Thomas: works carried out by, 15, 53; the Chicken Rock light, 94; building of the Dhu-Heartach, 114-20
Stevenson, family of engineers: preeminence of, 8-10; systems of lighting, 36-38; adoption of electricity, 219-22; work in Japan, 258; characteristics, 305
Stevenson, George, and the Fastnet, 122
Stevenson, Robert, and the Bell Rock lighthouse, 9, 97-100; Skerryvore, 101
Stevenson, Robert Louis, “A Family of Engineers,” 8-9
Stevenson, Thomas, 9, 222
Stewart Island, 237
Stornoway lighthouse, lighting, 53-54
Strain, Samuel H., 306
Subsidiary lights, 53-55
Suez, 312
Sugar-Loaf Point lighthouse, 232
Sule Skerry lighthouse, 9, 39
Sumatra, 257
“Sun-valve,” the Dalén, 275-78
Superior, Lake, lighting of, 214, 216, 217
Sweden: floating lighthouses, 291; unattended lighthouses, 277-82
Swift, Captain W. H., the Minot’s Ledge light, 176-78, 182
Sydney lighthouse. _See_ Macquarie Tower
_Tararua_, steamship, wreck of the, 236, 237
Tay, Firth of, 96
Terawhiti, Cape, 238
Thames lightships, 240-41
Thomas, O. P., 260
Three Kings Rock, 236
Tierra del Fuego, 268
Tillamook Head, 183
Tillamook Rock lighthouse, 13-15, 183-95, 204; the keepers, 307-8
Tiri-Tiri Island lighthouse, 236-38
Torrain Rocks, 113
Tory Island lighthouse, 39
Trade, Board of: collection of light dues, 7-8; and the siren, 61; Mr. Ingrey’s scheme, 64; adoption of electricity, 219
Trewavas, John R., death of, 14-15
Triangle Island, British Columbia, light, 174
Trinity House Brethren: purchase of patents, 6; maintenance of English lights, 7, 26; adoption of the Daboll trumpet, 60; and the Eddystone, 77; and the Wolf Rock, 88-89; and the Whiteside light, 93; and the Fastnet, 122; adoption of electricity, 218, 223; the light on the Seven Stones, 248
Trinity House Museum: Smeaton’s clock, 76-77; Bishop Rock fog-bell, 85-86
_Triumph_, steamship, wreck, 236
Tyndall, Professor, 59
Tyree, island of, 100, 102, 105, 107
United States Corps of Engineers, 63, 198
United States Lighthouse Board, 13 36, 195; coastline lighting, 20, 196-207; methods of lighting, 46-47; inauguration, 198; extent of control 206-7; lighting of the Great Lakes, 208-17; lightship service, 255; adoption of the Aga light, 294-95
United States Typographical Engineers, 176
Unst, island of, 112
Ushant, 148, 156, 157
Ushant Island, 158
Vancouver, 173; coastline, 284
Vancouver Island, 174
Victoria, 173
_Victoria_, steamer, wreck, 303-4
Waipapapa Point lighthouse, 236, 237
Walker, James, 8; Bishop Rock light, 84-5
Wanganui, N.Z., 233
Water-gas, 48
Wellington, N.Z., 233-4
Weser River estuary, 132
West Indies lighthouses, 309
White ant, ravages of the, 264-66
White Shoal lighthouse, 215, 216
Whiteside light, 92, 93
Whistles on lighthouses, 58
Wigham light, 279-280, 282, 296-97
Willson, Mr. Thomas: the acetylene automatic light, 285-89, 291, 294
_Winchelsea_, wreck of the, 72, 74
Windward Point, Cuba, 308
Winstanley, Henry: the Eddystone lighthouse, 73
Wireless installation: on the Fastnet, 131; station, Sable Island, 167; Belle Ile, Southern Point, 170; the Eider lightship, 249
Wirral, 16, 309
Wolf Rock lighthouse, 14; blowing holes, 63, 87-92; relief, 311
Women as lighthouse-keepers, 314-15
Wrath, Cape, 112
Wreckers of the Wolf Rock, 88; Chinese, 258-59
BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced quotation marks retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
Index not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page references.
Ditto marks in the Index have been replaced by the actual text.
Empty, featureless areas along the side(s) of some illustrations have been removed by Transcriber. This allowed those illustrations to be shown larger and with greater detail.
Page 233: “Ly-ce-moon” likely is a misprint for “Ly-ee-moon”.
End of Project Gutenberg's Lightships and Lighthouses, by Frederick A. Talbot