Lightouse-M
Bass Harbor Head
Maine
At the southern tip of Mount Desert Island, a picturesque light station still stands guard after 140 years, guiding mariners safely in and out of Bass Harbor. Considered by many to be the crowning touch of any visit to Acadia National Park, this charming sentinel is one of the most photographed lighthouses in the State of Maine.
Thousand of years ago, swift-moving glaciers carved out countless inlets along the coast of Maine and created Mount Desert Island. Even today, there is clear evidence of nature's handiwork in the rock formations around the island. Throughout the island there are many rare and wondrous sites, including America's only true fjord.
To aid mariners navigating through the endless maze of inlets, and to help them avoid running aground on dangerous rocky shoals, five lighthouses were established on and around Mount Desert Island between 1828 and 1875. In 1858, seven years after the establishment of the Lighthouse Board, funding was granted to construct a station at the southwestern edge of Bass Harbor. Erected on a steep granite promontory, the lighthouse was strategically positioned not only as a harbor guide, but also to assist mariners navigating Blue Hill Bay between the island and the mainland.
Standing only thirty-six feet high, the brick tower rises fifty-six feet from the water's surface. Fitted with a fourth-order Fresnel lens, the lantern illuminates a red, occulting beacon, currently automated, capable of reaching ships for thirteen nautical miles. Connected by an L-shaped passageway is a handsome, two-story keeper's dwelling. In 1876, a metronome with a powerful fog bell was constructed on the property. An oil house and barn were added in the early 1900's.
In 1919, Mount Desert Island, Isle au Haut, several nearby islets and the adjoining coastal area were designated a protected area by the federal government. One of Maine's most beautiful and exotic natural wonders, Acadia National Part attracts tens of thousands of visitors each year. One of its principal attractions is Bass Harbor Head Light. Aside from the introduction of electricity and some modern conveniences, this historic sentinel has remained essentially unchanged for the last century. A coast Guard family currently occupies the residence. Visitors are asked to respect their privacy.
Cape Elizabeth
Maine
Just south of Portland, Maine, a series of hazardous rocks protrude into the sea from Cape Elizabeth. For centuries these dangerous shoals have claimed unsuspecting vessels passing near this beautiful headland. In 18ll, the first recorded navigational aid was established on Cape Elizabeth, a fifty-foot black and white daymark erected as a memorial to a ship lost at sea. As the tower was useless during the night or in inclement weather, mariners campaigned vociferously for a lighted aid. With funding granted by Congress, contractor Jeremiah Barry was hired in 1828 to replace the daymark with two rubblestone lighted towers. Working diligently, Barry was able to complete the project within five months. The lanterns were first illuminated in October 1828.
In less than five decades, the harsh Atlantic climate all but destroyed the towers. The stone structures were torn down and replaced with a pair of sturdy, sixty-seven-foot cast-iron towers in 1874. Built in six stages, these handsome towers, while functional in every way, were a stunning work of art. Just above the windows on the first, third, and fifth stages, Italianate influence is evident in the gabled pediments. In each of the huge lantern rooms, state-of-art second-order Fresnel lenses were installed. Spaced about 300 yards apart, the towers and their white beacons were quite easy for mariners to locate. A year later a beautiful Victorian keeper' quarters was constructed near the east tower. A fog signal building was added in 1886.
By 1924, officials decided that the two towers were redundant. In a cost saving measure, the western tower was deactivated, and the lantern was removed. The necessity of the eastern tower, however, has never been in question. Taking advantage of the cape's elevated ground, the classic lens casts its powerful beacon from a focal plane of 129 feet. Emitting six rapid flashes every half minute, the light is visible for a remarkable twenty-seven miles, one of the most powerful in New England. Despite its welcoming presence, over the past century a number of ships have been destroyed in these unforgiving waters. As recently as 1947, a coal freighter was split in two during a violent storm. Thanks to the efforts of coast Guardsman Earle Drinkwater, on duty at the light station, all hands were saved.
In 1963, the beacon was automated. Today, the classic lens is one of the last Fresnel optics in the nation still operating in a rotating mercury bath. Cape Elizabeth light is unique among our nation's sentinels. While no one can doubt the practical importance, its architectural splendor is truly something to behold, a treasure to be preserved for future generations.
Cape Neddick (Nubble Light)
Maine
If you peer into the rock formations on Nubble Island in Cape Neddick, Maine, some say you can see the faces of George Washington and even phantom sailors. The ocean has created a wondrous sculpture garden, carving spectacular shapes into the exposed stone. Here you will find one of the most photographed, painted and visited lighthouses in New England. Located near the Town of York, on the southern tip of the Maine coastline, Cape Neddick Light (also known as "Nubble Light") has been warning and protecting mariners since 1879. Thirty-seven years earlier, just north of Cape Neddick, mysterious events caused the vessel, the Isidore, to meet its fate on the rocks of Bald Head Cliffs. This and other wrecks prompted congress to approve the establishment of a lighthouse on Nubble Island. Although the tower stands a mere 41 feet high, the elevation of the island raises the height of the fourth-order Fresnel lens to 88 feet above sea level. Every six seconds, mariners from as far away as fifteen miles can find comfort in the familiar, flashing red beacon.
"The Nubble", as locals affectionately call their beloved lighthouse, reflects an artistic touch that is unique among New England sentinels. Even the tips of the gallery balusters are adorned with miniature cast iron lighthouses. No effort was spared in building the finest possible keeper's cottage, light tower and bell tower.
From early on, tourists were drawn to the picturesque station. One enterprising keeper and his wife provided a ferry service and lighthouse tour for picnickers. Escorting as many as a hundred visitors a day became a full time occupation. The light was sorely neglected, and the keeper promptly lost his job.
Newspapers found Nubble Light a great source for human interest stories. One particularly poignant scene, widely reported, was the daily transport of a keeper's son to school on a cable car connected to the mainland. Throngs of curious bystanders eventually caused the practice to be discontinued. Along with observing the lighthouse's human inhabitants, another object of attention was an incredible 19 pound cat, Sambo Tonkus. Sambo was considered by many to be the best mouser in the state of Maine. Several times a day, this amazing feline swam the channel between the lighthouse and shore to catch mice and visit with friends.
In July 1987, the Coast Guard automated the light and leased the island and station to the Town of York. Since then, the town, along with local preservation groups, has made enormous efforts to restore the sentinel to its original state. Visitors are still entranced by Nubble's picture-postcard charm, particularly during the holidays, when every structure on the island is trimmed with Christmas lights. As evidence of Cape Neddick's popularity, when NASA looked for photos to accompany Voyager on its journey to Jupiter, a picture of the scenic light was chosen to offer other intelligent life a sampling of important landmarks on earth.
Drum Point Light
Maryland
Screw pile lights were once a common sight throughout the Chesapeake Bay. These spider-like stations were ideally suited for service in shallow waters. Modern technology and the ravages of time have gradually caused the disappearance of most of these fascinating sentinels. Drum Point Light was established in 1883, forty miles southeast of Washington DC, near Solomon, Maryland. A dangerous sandbar lay just off the point, creating a serious need for a lighted navigational aid. although funds had been appropriated for the station eighteen years earlier, for some reason the Lighthouse Board failed to issue construction orders. When the order was finally given, the new light was erected in ten feet of water, one hundred feet from the point, in just 33days. A handsome one and a half story keepers cottage was built atop ten-inch wrought iron piles. Sporting a modern fourth-order Fresnel lens,47 feet off the water, Drum Point Light used a fixed red light to warn mariners away from the point. As the water gradually erected from Drum Point, the beacon became less and less effective. By 1962, it had become clear that the old station had outlived its usefulness. Her keepers were retired, and the lighthouse was relegated to history. After laying idle for more than twelve years, the Calvert Historical Society acquired the deteriorating building. In monumental effort, the lighthouse was carefully moved two miles up thePatuxent River to its final resting place by the Calvert Marine Museum. After countless hours of refurbishing, local citizens gradually restored Drum Point Light to its original beauty. Visitors may enter the sentinel and experience a bit of early 20th Century history.
Edgartown
Massachusetts
A short ferry ride from Cape Cod lies one of New England's most charming and beloved islands. Although usually thought of as a summer resort, Martha's Vineyard was originally settled in 1642 as an important commercial fishing center. On the eastern side of the island, Edgartown and its peaceful harbor were once a thriving whaling port. Guiding vessels safely in and out of the harbor proved to be a challenging task, especially at night. As early as 1816, it is believed that some type of lighted navigational aid was deployed here. The first real lighthouse was established in 1828, on the western side of the Edgartown inner harbor, opposite Chappaquiddick Island. This early beacon consisted of a simple tower located in the center of a Cape Cod style keepers cottage. Although remodeled in the late 1880s, the house and tower gradually deteriorated from constant exposure to the elements. After serving mariners faithfully for 110 years, the old house was struck its final blow by a hurricane in 1938. Damaged beyond repair, the coast Guard, who assumed control of the Lighthouse Service in 1939, ordered the light demolished. A cylindrical 45-foot cast iron tower, built in Ipswich, Main 1873, was actually floated by barge out to Martha's Vineyard tore place the damaged station. Built in four sections of cast iron plates, the tower now rests on an octagonal concrete slab, atop a granite block and fill foundation. The first three landings were each built with windows framed with beautiful Italianate edging, while the fourth was given portholes. Unfortunately, over the last twenty years, vandals destroyed the original windows. In1986, the Vineyard Environmental Research Institute assumed control of the station, and has made tremendous effort to restore and maintain this once proud sentinel. Today, the old tower sports an environmentally-friendly, solar-powered lamp. Flashing its alternating white and red light 170 feet above sea level, this historic light still beckons sailors and fishermen to the Vineyard.
Gay Head
Massachusetts
Traversing the blue-gray waters of Vineyard Sound, visitors aboard passenger ferries are often touched by the beauty of Martha's Vineyard as the island comes into view. Unknown to many, just off the far western tip of this famous island, a ridge of deadly rocks and sand awaits unsuspecting ships. Stretching from the base of the cliffs at Gay Head to the Elizabeth Islands, the shoals of Devils Bridge are respected and feared by the most experienced navigators. In response to requests by mariners for a lighted aid to mark these dangerous waters, Congress appropriated $5,750 for a lighthouse in 1798.That December, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts ceded land on Martha's Vineyard to the federal government. Within a few months, engineers constructed an octagonal wooden tower near the brightly colored cliffs at Gay Head. Although small in appearance, the towering cliffs raised the47-foot sentinel to more than 160 feet above sea level. By the mid-1850s, the tower at Gay Head was in dire need of replacement. The lighthouse was torn down and replaced by a solid brick, 51-foottower. A double brick keepers quarters was erected close by. On December1, 1856, a state-of-the-art first-order Fresnel lens was displayed forthe first time in the new lighthouse. Enhanced by its 170-foot elevation, the intense white and red flashes could be seen by mariners for 19nautical miles. Constant exposure to the elements eventually took its toll on the keeper's quarters. In 1902, the mildewed house was torn down and replaced by the wood framed structure reflected in our sculpture. This handsome dwelling was unfortunately demolished in 1956. Today, all of hesitations outbuildings have been dismantled or destroyed. Only the towerremains.The beacon at Gay Head has kept pace with the rapid changes in navigation technology. In 1953, the Fresnel lens was replaced by a high intensity DCB optic. The Dukes County Historical Society currently cares for the classic lens. Automated in 1960, the beacon is still active. In 1989, the Gay Head Lighthouse Park was established. A fence was installed to prevent climbers and thrill seekers from destroying the fragile clay cliffs near the historic light. Between 1991 and 1992, the tower, stairs, and landing decks were refurbished, sanded, and painted, thanks to the dedicated efforts of the Vineyard Environmental Research Institute. After three decades of remaining closed, the tower is now open to the public.
Goat Island
Maine
On the southeastern coast of Maine, about twenty miles south of Portland, a quaint and unassuming light station has stood guard for more than 138years. Marking the entrance to the harbor at Cape Porpoise, the sentinel on Goat Island has withstood countless nor'easters, faithfully guiding mariners into this harbor of refuge. Recognizing the need for a navigation aid at the busy harbor, Congress appropriated $6,000 for a lighthouse to be built on Goat Island in 1834.A 20-foot tall tower and rubble stone keepers cottage were completed the following year. Within fifteen years, the harsh North Atlantic climate had taken its toll on the station. The light tower and keepers dwelling were both torn down and replaced between 1859 and 1860. Upon completion, the new station included a 25-foot brick tower and gabled wood colonial cape cottage. A covered walkway connected the structures. Small, yet solidly built, the light tower was well suited for the harsh Maine climate. Rising thirty-eight feet above the water, a fifth-order Fresnellens completed the lantern room. A boathouse was added to the property in1905, a brick oil house in 1907.Save for the walkway, which was destroyed by a powerful storm in 1978,the lighthouse has remained remarkably unchanged since the turn of the century. In 1976, the Coast Guard decided to automate the beacon and declared the three and a half acres surplus property. It offered to donate the property to the town of Kennebunkport and the city of Biddeford for use as a recreational area. Both municipalities declined the offer and informed the Coast Guard that they considered the lighthouse keeper essential to the safety of the harbor. As a consequence, the Coast Guard elected to keep the station manned. Finally, in the summer of 1990, an important era sadly came to a close, as Boatswain Mate Brad Culp and his family, the last of Maineâslightkeepers, climbed into their outboard motorboat and headed for themainland.During the George Bush presidency, the lighthouse on Goat Island was used as a security post while the Commander-in-Chief was vacationing at his home in Kennebunkport. In 1992, the coast Guard leased the light station to the Kennebunkport Conservation Trust, a local, nonprofit land-preservation organization. The Trust, which is working to maintain its historic integrity, assumed full ownership of the lighthouse and property in June 1988. Volunteers man the station for nine months of theyear.Today, this important lighthouse is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. A modern, 300mm optic has replaced the classic lens. Little else has changed, however. The flashing, white beacon continues tore mind us of the past, while providing hope for the future.
Boston Harbor Light
Massachusetts
Be it enacted…That there be a lighthouse erected at the charge of the Province, on the southernmost part of the Great Brewster, called Beacon Island, to be kept lighted from sun setting to sun rising.
-Boston Light Bill, Massachusetts General Court - July 23, 1715
With these important words, events were set in motion for the establishment of the first lighthouse in the Western Hemisphere. Although various types of lighted beacons had been used for several decades in Boston and other coastal areas, enclosed lighted towers common to Europe were non-existent in the Americas.
In the early 18th century, Boston was the capital of commerce for the fledgling American Colonies. There was a common consensus among prominent citizens and mariners that this important harbor was deserving of a lighthouse. Upon final approval from England, a hewn granite block tower was constructed on Little Brewster Island (Beacon Island) in the center of Boston Harbor. On September the 14th, 1715, America's first light keeper, George Worthylake climbed the steps to light the simple candle lantern. Several years later the first fog signal in the Colonies were added.
In those early days, keepers supplemented their income as harbor pilots, and Mr. Worthylake was kept quite busy. Sadly, his career was short-lived. On a fateful day in 1718, George, his wife and daughter, and two others were drowned in a tragic boating accident. The men who followed in Keeper Worthylake's footsteps endured many other challenges over the next few years, including one of the worst storms on record in 1723 and a fire in 1751.
Boston Light stood witness to many central events the early history of our young nation. During the British blockade of Boston Harbor in 1775, an American assault party burned the keeper's house and damaged the tower to render it unusable. After a futile attempt by the British to restore the light, colonial raiders ransacked it again. When a bruised Royal Navy limped away from Boston Harbor the following year, they repaid their Yankee tormentors with a timed explosive charge that destroyed the tower for good. Three weeks later the Declaration of Independence was signed.
Boston Light remained in ruins until 1783. When the state of Massachusetts finally restored the light, the new tower measured 75 feet high, with a 7 ½ foot diameter base. One June 1st, 1813, one of the most dramatic naval battles of the War of 1812 took place within sight of Boston Light. Although the American ship Chesapeake was outgunned and defeated by the English Shannon, the words of a dying Captain Lawrence have been ingrained in our memories… "Don't give up the ship."
American's First Light is largely unchanged after two centuries, except for structural improvements. The tower was raised an additional 15 feet in 1859. Strenuous efforts have been made to preserve this important landmark, particularly after the damage caused to it by Hurricane Bob in 1991. Because of the historical significance of Boston Light, the United States Coast Guard has determined that it will be our last manned lighthouse.
Highland (Cape Cod) Light
Massachusetts
Cape Cod cats, they have no tails; they lost them in the Nor'eastgales. --from a popular New England folk song. No history of lighthouses would be complete without some mention of the cats and dogs that brought solace and companionship to many lonely light keepers. Cats, in particular, were extremely useful in ridding light stations of rodents and insects. One of the legends of Highland Light relates the storm of Flotsam, Jetsam, and Lagan, three tail-less felines who were all rescued from shipwrecks and christened with appropriate nautical names. There is some historical dispute whether they were the inspiration of this song. Like the tail of a scorpion, the eastern portion of Cape Cod arcs northland westward into the stormy Atlantic. This beautiful peninsula, with its ever shifting sand dunes, was created by glacier deposits over tens of thousands of years. Although tradition reminds us of Plymouth, the Pilgrim fathers first landed on Cape Cod before heading across the bay to step on the famous rock. For centuries, merchant vessels, whalers, and ships bearing hopeful immigrants have all called the Cape home. Despite its beauty and charm, Cape Cod has remained a formidable navigational challenge to this day. Hidden shoals and ever-shifting sands have created a nightmare for mariners. For more than 400 years, the remnants of unfortunate ships have littered the beaches. In 1798, the first light tower on Cape Cod was erected on a high bluff near Truro.Situated 183 feet above sea level, the new light was at first confused by mariners with the fixed beacon of Boston Light. To rectify the situation, a rotating opaque screen was placed in the lantern. In 1857, the Lighthouse Board rebuilt the old tower and replaced the aging lantern with a first-order Fresnel lens. Rotating on a bed of mercury, the modern lens concentrated light into flashes of 200,000 candlepower. When electricity was introduced to the station in 1932, and the oil lamps were replaced with a 1000 watt light bulb, the strength of the light was increased to an astonishing 4 million candlepower. Passing ships could now view the beacon from 23 miles away. Although automated since 1986, Highland Light remains an important navigational aid. For sailors returning from long voyages on the North Atlantic, Highland Light is often the first welcome sight visible on the North American continent. Henry David Thoreau was one of the first to note Highland Lights precarious location. Today, the familiar white tower is threatened with serious erosion. Less than 90 feet currently separates the keepers dwelling from the receding sandy cliff. Concerned citizens from the Truro Historical Society, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, the National Park Service, and the U.S. Coast Guard reactively working together on a massive relocation project. Funding is sorely needed.
Holland Harbor
Michigan
On the eastern shore of Lake Michigan, a short distance form the city of Holland and Lake Macatawa, a bright red sentinel beckons to mariners. Although no longer displaying an active beacon, Holland Harbor lighthouse's a familiar sight to area ships. Located on the South Pier head at Black Lake, "Big Red," as the lighthouse is affectionately called, remains unimportant Demark in February 1847, Reverend Albertus Van Raalte and 60 followers arrived at the shores of Lake Macatawa. Reminiscent of their native Holland, this beautiful land seemed the ideal place to begin their new life in America. With its easy access to Lake Michigan and vast woodlands full of timber, the settlement quickly attracted other pioneers, mostly of Dutch heritage. The settlers of Holland were nothing if not resourceful. When the government refused to provide funding for a shipping channel connecting Lake Michigan to Lake Macatawa, local residents determined to dig it themselves. To aid the increasing ship traffic into Holland Harbor, a lighthouse was established on the South Pier head in 1872. In 1907, the station was rebuilt. Constructed of solid brick, with a slate roof, the handsome twin-gabled structure clearly reflected the local Dutch influence. Twenty-nine years later, a new 32-foot wooden tower was added to the dwelling. Magnified by a sixth-order Fresnel lens, the beacon was visible for fourteen nautical miles. That same year, to protect the lighthouse from the unrelenting wind, rain, and waves, most of the building was sheathed in steel plates. By 1970, improved navigation technology rendered the station obsolete, and the beacon was deactivated. For the past few years, Big Red has been featured attraction of Holland State Park, one of Michigan's most popular camping grounds. Each year, more than a half million visitors from all over the world descend upon the city of Holland for the annual Tulip Time festival. For visitors, as well as locals, the beautiful red lighthouse is an important symbol of Holland. Unfortunately for lighthouse lovers, private landowners along the South Channel near the sentinel have recently determined to restrict public access to Big Red. Unless a compromise is reached, future generations may miss the opportunity to experience history first hand.
Grand Haven South Pier
Michigan
Looking out upon the beautiful expanse of Lake Michigan on a calm day, its difficult to imagine the violence that these waters can inflict upon manmade structures and vessels. In 1905, the sturdy stone South Pier at Grand Haven, one of Michigan's best deepwater harbors, was extended more than a hundred feet out onto the lake. At the same time, officials decided to move two lighthouses onto the pier, marking the entrance to Grand River and the harbor. Around the centermost point of the pier, engineers erected a 51-footsteel-sided tower. Originally built on land in 1839, the red tower was dismantled and then reassembled atop the stone pier. Officially referred to as the South Pier Inner Light, originally served mariners from the shore. Established in 1871 and moved to the pier in 1905, the sentinel is dominated by a huge foghorn, with a small lantern sitting atop the gable. In 1922, fearing that the stormy lake environment would eventually destroy the wooden structure, the building was sheathed in steel. Realizing the potential for huge waves to crash over the pier, engineers built an elevated catwalk, allowing keepers to walk safely between the two stations. In the winter, when icy winds descend with a fury upon Lake Michigan, the water freezes, and boating comes to a complete standstill. In the days before automation, keepers returned to their homes for a well-deserved rest, and the beacons were darkened. An icy shroud covered the pier and both lighthouses from late December until March, creating an eerie sight. In the spring, layers of ice, several feet thick in places, had to be painstakingly cut away with sledgehammers and picks. In 1969, both lights were automated, and modern beacons replaced the classic six-order Fresnel lenses. Today, Grand Haven is well known forts pristine beaches, great fishing and historic lighthouses. Because the sentinels are still active, however, they are off-limits to the public. At night, the view from the shore of the lighted pier and two beacons is absolutely breathtaking.
Grand Traverse
Michigan
At the tip of Michigan's a little finger, a on the northwestern shore other "mitten" a charming lighthouse sits quietly, looking northward onto Lake Michigan. Established in 1853 on Cats Head Point, and rebuilt in1858, this historic sentinel guided vessels in and out of Grand Traverse Bay for more than a century. The first keeper at Grand Traverse Light was a fascinating character named Philo Beers, who also served as a deputy marshal. Mr. Beers was forced to exercise his law enforcement skills before the lantern was ever lit. While still under construction in 1852, religious followers of a self-proclaimed king raided the station, stealing valuable lighthouse equipment. Fortunately, Beers was able to drive off the renegades and save the lighthouse's most important asset, its valued Fresnel lens. In 1858, the original structure was replaced by the present two-and-a-half story building. Although somewhat isolated, the large dwelling gave keepers and their families a relatively comfortable life. A square, brick light tower rose through the house's red-shingled gable roof, casting a powerful, fourth-order beacon to grateful mariners on the water. With its commanding view of the entrance to Grand Traverse Bay, it was virtually impossible for approaching ships to miss the beacon. After 114 years of uninterrupted service, the Coast Guard returned Grand Traverse Light in 1972. Duties were transferred nearby to a simple remand white steel light tower closer to the water. The land and buildings were leased to the State of Michigan to become part of Leelanau Township State Park. An important era in Great Lakes history was gone, but not forgotten. Today, Grand Traverse Light appears much as it did a hundred years ago. The building has been wonderfully preserved as a museum by the Grand Traverse Lighthouse Foundation. Inside, history buffs can view the original Fresnel lens, as well as mementos, old photographs, antique furnishings, toys, and kitchenware form the period. Grand Traverse's current caretaker and 30-year Coast Guard veteran, Doug McCormick, was one of eleven children who grew up in the lighthouse. His father, James McCormick, keeper from 1922 to 1939, left his mark on the place by crafting beautiful stone planters. Visitors can see the planters, along with some lovely flowering shrubs, while wandering the tree covered lawn. Not far from the grand old sentinel, Lake Michigan stretches out as fares the eye can see, still beckoning to sailors, fishermen, and adventurers.
Matinicus Rock Light
Maine
When Abigail Burgess was just 17 years old, she was faced with a life and death crisis that few of her elders could have managed better. In January1856, her father, keeper of Matinicus Rock Light, was away buying food and supplies, as well as medicine for his sick wife. During his absence, a powerful gale blew up from the Atlantic, leaving Burgess cut off from the station for three weeks. Twenty-two miles from the mainland, on a remote islet, Abbie kept her wits and did her best to care for her invalid mother and three young sisters. As the first storm clouds approached, she moved her mother and sisters out of the dwelling and into the north stone tower. Abbie also rescued the chickens, which supplied the hungry family with eggs. Throughout the entire ordeal, this young heroine never once let the lights go out, even during hurricane conditions. When Burgess finally returned, he found his family safe and secure, thanks to his level-headed daughter. Although most of the keeper's house and parts of the station had been washed out to sea, the lamps were still burning brightly. Samuel Burgess received his appointment to the lonely outpost on Matinicus Rock in 1853. These twin lights, originally built in 1827 on a small outcropping, four miles south of Matinicus Island, offered one of the most difficult positions in the lighthouse service. Several previous keepers either died or quit because of the severe hardships. Due to his wife's constant need for medicines and doctors, Burgess supplemented his income as a lobsterman. With her father and brother away much of the time, most of the light keeping duties fell to fourteen-year-old Abbie. Trimming the fourteen wicks and polishing the reflectors in each of the towers required tremendous diligence, and Abbie performed her duties admirably. A year after the terrible storm of 1856, the towers were replaced by new granite structures with modern third-order Fresnel lenses. Four years later, with the election of Abraham Lincoln, Samuel Burgess lost his position to a Republican political appointee, John Grant. Not wishing to simply abandon the new keeper, Burgess suggested that his daughter assist Mr. Grant. Within a few weeks, Grant's son, Isaac, the assistant keeper, fell deeply in love with the demure maiden. A year later the young couple took their wedding vows at the light station. After their marriage, Abbie continued to tend the lights and her husband was named head keeper. Over the next ten years, Abbie bore four children at Matinicus Rock, and the family seemed quite happy. In 1872, Abbie's husband was transferred to Whitehead Light, near Spruce Head, Maine. Three years later Isaac Grant sadly passed away. Soon after, Abbie received her long deserved appointment as Keeper. She served in her post until 1890, when she suddenly grew ill. Although only fifty years old, she was forced into an early retirement. Upon leaving Whitehead, Abbie seemed to lose all interest in living. Before her death in 1892,she wrote, air I ever have a gravestone, I would like it in the form of lighthouse In 1945, historian Edward R. Snow placed a miniature lighthouse on Abbie's grave, granting her last wish. Today, Matinicus Light and Abbie Burgess Grant are rarely mentioned apart from one another. One of the old towers continues to flash its automated beacon to grateful mariners. Matinicus Rock, an important nesting site for puffins, now serves as a research headquarters for Audubon biologists.
Minotâs Ledge
Massachusetts
The second built on its site, Minotâs Ledge was completed in 1860. Its predecessor was a steel frame tower designed by William Smith. Its first keeper was Isaac Dunham. Mr. Dunham resigned from the post after only 9months because he felt the light to be unsafe. His fears were well founded, because the tower was destroyed by a severe storm in March 1851,only a few months past its first anniversary. Unfortunately, two assistant keepers were lost with the collapse of the structure. Minotâs Ledge had claimed many a vessel along with its crew before the current structure was placed into service in 1860. The seas can be unforgiving, and the tower is often washed in white caps, and even covered with blue water at times! The light at Minotâs Ledge flashes once, then 4 times, then 3 times. This sequence is interpreted by romantics to signal, a Love You. An extensive refurbishing took place in 1987 and was completed in 1988,much to the delight of locals and visitors alike.
Nauset Beach
Massachusetts
This striking red and white cast iron structure was originally erected at Chatham, in 1877. The tower was moved to Nauset in 1923 to replace the last of the wooden towers of the Three Sisters Lighthouses, which were being threatened by erosion. The tower stands 48 feet tall and its automated light still serves sailors who would explore the famous Cape Cod National Seashore from a focal point 114 feet above sea level. The keepers quarters have survived the ravages of time and this beautiful light may be seen from the Salt Pond Visitors Center, but is not open to the public.
Nobska (Nobsque) Point
Massachusetts
Standing guard at the edge of Woods Hole Harbor on Cape Cod, Nobska Point Light has steadfastly aided mariners for 120 years. An earlier light stood at the same location from 1838 to 1876. Four miles away, lying just across Vineyard Sound, Martha's Vineyard continue to beckon adventurous and romantic souls. During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, The Vineyard, as locals often call this lovely island, served as an important whaling and fishing center. By the mid-1820s, it became clear that a lighthouse was needed on Vineyard Sound. Lying at the southwestern tip of Cape Cod, Nobska Point, known in those days asNobsque, provided an ideal marker between Vineyard Sound to the south and Buzzard's Bay to the west. Located near the village of Wood's Hole, this strategic promontory also offered a commanding view of nearby Falmouth and Wood's Hole Harbors. Specifications for the original light at Nobska called for a simple, two-room stone dwelling. The enter of the house was reserved for an octagonal, white tower, projecting sixteen feet above the roof. On September 28th, 1828, the first light at Nobska was illuminated. Rising eighty feet above sea level, the beacon was powered by 10 whale oil lamps, and provided adequate, if somewhat limited guidance for nearby ships. In 1856, the antiquated reflector system was replaced by a fifth-order Fresnel lens. Life for the early keepers at Nobska was quite difficult, and made all the more so by a poorly constructed, leaky roof. Although some improvements were made in 1849, by 1875 the station was in dire need of replacement. That same year, a fog bell tower was added tithe property. A new cast iron light tower and separate wood frame keepers cottage were erected the following year. Standing forty-two feet tall, the cylindrical tower was lined with red brick, to provide added strength and insulation. Italianate windows lined the first three levels, with portholes on the fourth. The only reminder of the original station was the Fresnel lens. To aid the increasing numbers of vessels on the Sound, the lens was replaced by a fourth-order optic in 1888. In 1899, a covered walkway was finally placed between the tower and the keepers house, although it has since been dismantled. A year later, a second dwelling was built. During this period, life began to change on Martha's Vineyard, along with the rest of Cape Cod. This idyllic location was viewed more and more as a place of relaxation, and less as a commercial fishing center. Passenger steamers ferried thousands of eager vacationers to the quaint island, particularly in the summer. In 1948, a radio beacon was added to the station, along with an improved fog signal. Keepers remained at their posts until 1985, when the station was finally automated. Every evening, a 1000-watt halogen white light flashes its familiar warning every six seconds, with a red sector to cover nearby shoals. Nobska Point Light remains one of New England's most important navigational aids.
Big Sable Point
(Grande Point au Sable)
Michigan
On Michigan's western shore, near Ludington, a narrow promontory reaches into Lake Michigan. Early French explorers called this place Grande Point au Sable. In 1865, the Lighthouse Board recommended a beacon be placed here, an important turning point for vessels. They noted that this was "the most salient point on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan" that remained un-lit. A year after the Board's recommendation, Congress appropriated the necessary funds.
Two years later, a 112-foot tower, constructed of Milwaukee yellow brick, was erected near the edge of the sandy point. Connected to the tower by a covered walkway, workers built a brick keeper's dwelling, large enough to accommodate two families. A fog signal building and brick oil house were constructed nearby. On November 1, the third-order fixed Fresnel optic, rising 106 feet from the water, was illuminated for the first time.
The lake climate soon took its toll on the tower's brickwork. Although the masonry was re-painted in 1880, the benefits were short-lived. In 1900, the entire tower was encased in steel plates up to the watchroom. Concrete was then poured in the space between the brick and the plates. In 1905, the watchroom was similarly encased.
Because of the threat of beach erosion, sea walls were constructed to restrain the encroaching water. Despite efforts to halt the erosion, in 1941, Lake Michigan claimed the fog signal building. In 1968, the beacon was automated. By 1977, lake waters had risen to within four feet of the tower. A stone rip-rap was built near the base of the tower and has held fairly well until this day
With the passage of time, "Big Sable Point" has supplanted the French verbiage. In 1984, the station was leased to the Foundation for Behavioral Research. A year later, the classic lens was transferred to the Rose Hawley Museum and replaced by a 300mm optic. In 1987, the Big Sable Point Lighthouse Keepers Association was formed to save the historic sentinel. During restoration, the roof color was changed from its original gray to its current reddish brown. The lighthouse, which remains an important aid to navigation, is open to the public on occasion throughout the year.
Old Mackinac Point
Michigan
Since the earliest French explorers first navigated the hazardous Straits of Mackinac, mariners have treated this narrow stretch of water with the utmost respect. Connecting two of the largest bodies of freshwater in the world, Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, this important passageway has destroyed numerous vessels over the past three centuries. Deadly, hidden shoals lie just beneath the surface of the water, waiting to strike the hull of any unsuspecting ship. Until Congress had the good sense to authorize funding for navigational aids, some mariners went completely out of their way to avoid the Straits of Mackinac. Although light stations were established atMcGulpins Point and St. Helena Island just after the Civil War, they were simply not adequate to handle the huge volume of shipping crossing the Straits into Lake Huron. In March 1891, approval was granted to build a sentinel on the southern side of the Straits, near Michigan City, on the site of an important fog-signal station. A year and a half later, a handsome brick keepers dwelling and attached 40-foot tower were completed. Reminiscent of a small European castle, the architect may have received his inspiration from a nearby abandoned French fort. On October 25, 1892, the fourth-order Fresnel lens was illuminated for the first time. Featuring a bull's eye flash for tankers and large vessels, there was also a smooth, steady ring of light for smaller fishing boats. In 1957, a long awaited bridge was finally built over the Straits, connecting Michigan's Upper and Lower Peninsulas. Vessels no longer needed to rely on lighthouses to make their way through the Straits, but instead took their bearings from lights on the bridge. Old MackinacPoint Lighthouse was considered obsolete and promptly retired. When the bacon was finally lit for the last time, a veteran light keeper, John Campbell, was at the helm. A dedicated keeper, who served at numerous Great Lakes stations, Campbell kept the light lit at Old Mackinac Point for fourteen years. Since 1960, this historic sentinel has been owned and cared for by the Mackinac Island State Park Commission. The central attraction of Michilimackinac State Park, this graceful old building now serves the public as a wonderful maritime museum.
Point Betsie
Michigan
Not far from Frankfort, Michigan, a handsome sentinel casts her guiding light to Lake Michigan mariners. Located a short distance from Crystal Lake on the northwestern coast of Michigan's Lower Peninsula, this area was discovered by French explorers in the 17th Century. Originally named by the French, Pointe Aux Becs Scies, meaning Sawed Beak Point, Point Betsie was later Anglicized by English-speaking settlers. Standing just 37 feet tall, Point Betsie Light was built in 1858 to mark key turning point for ships entering or leaving the Manitou Passage.>From early on, mariners considered the light station one of the most important on Lake Michigan. Displaying a fourth-order Fresnel lens, the beacon rises from a 42-foot focal plane. Built on a small bluff along a sandy, wind-swept shoreline, the location of the tower, while strategic, placed it directly in harms way of Lake Michigan storms. Fortunately, engineers had the good sense to sheathe the tower in steel. In 1894, the current keepers quarters were constructed adjacent to the tower. Spacious and well-constructed, the beautiful two-story dwelling was capable of easily housing two keepers families comfortably. There'd-shingled roof is reminiscent of a barn and contrasts dramatically with the brightly painted white brick walls. Not far from the house, a row of Lombardy poplar trees was planted to act as a windbreak. Erosion has been a serious concern along the promontory for more than a century. In an effort to slow the advancing lake waters, steel breakwaters, and concrete abutments have been constructed near the waters edge. A concrete apron stretches from the base of the tower tithe lake. Designed to withstand the worst possible storm, the system has worked wonderfully; although one can still feel the vibration of the lake's powerful forces while standing on the walls. One of the last Great Lake beacons to be automated, Coast Guard personnel operated the station until 1983. Used as a Coast Guard residence until the winter of 1997, when the boiler gave out, the federal government has decided to abandon the keepers quarters. After the paperwork is completed, which will take about three years, the dwelling will be declared surplus property. Meanwhile, the historic structure inbound to fall into disrepair. Potential vandalism is also a serious concern. There is a window of opportunity for nonprofit organizations, particularly local ones, to rescue this historic structure before time, the elements, and bureaucracy take its toll. Fortunately, there is a precedent for the Coast Guard to lease abandoned lighthouses to local preservation groups.
Old Mission Point
Michigan
In the northwestern corner of Michigan's "mitten" lies beautiful Grand Traverse Bay, a haven to weary mariners and fishermen. The bay is divided in the middle by a narrow 18-mile peninsula that ends at the very heart of the bay. Although no longer active, a charming lighthouse graces the tip of the peninsula at Old Mission Point. In 1859, $6,000 was appropriated to build a lighthouse at Old Mission Point, to warn mariners away from a dangerous reef. Various delays, particularly the advent of the Civil War, postponed construction of the station for 11 years. Architects designed a simple, wood frame dwelling, with a tower protruding from a gabled roof. Upon completion of the lighthouse in September 1870, the beacon's focal plane was thirty feet above lake level. The first keeper to care for the light was Jerome Pratt, a local Indian agent and one of Old Mission's earliest settlers. He was followed by Jonathan Chary and later, Jonathan Lane. In December 1906, Jonathan Lane suddenly passed away. As was often the practice at smaller light stations, his widow, Sarah, was offered the keeper's position. In many lighthouses, such as Old Mission Point, keepers wives were often the unofficial assistant keepers, and were quite capable of taking over their husbands duties. In June 1933, Emil Johnson, the last keeper at Old Mission Point, climbed the steps to the lantern room for the final time, marking the end to an era. Today, caretakers of Peninsula Township Park beautifully maintain the lighthouse as a residence. Although the sentinel is closed to the public, the nearby park facilities are a wonderful place for families to picnic, hike, or swim. Not far from the lighthouse, a sign reads You are now standing on the 45th parallel, or half way between the North Pole and the Equator. a Like the Bordeaux region of France, which is also situated on the 45thparallel, the climate and soil on Mission Peninsula are perfect for growing wine grapes. Today, there are four wineries producing superb local vintages. Mission Peninsula is also renowned for its delectable, tart cherries. Approaching Old Mission Point by water, boaters are treated to a breath taking view of the sentinel, the white-framed structure silhouetted by a dense, green forest. If you let your imagination take you away, you can capture a rare moment once experienced by nineteenth century mariners.
Pemaquid Point Lighthouse
Maine
Fog has long been the scourge of seamen, and the waters off Maine have it in abundance. On the afternoon of September 16 1903, fog as thick as pea soup rolled along the shores of southern Maine. After engulfing several ships in total darkness, the fog suddenly lifted only to reveal an angry storm bearing down on the coast. Despite valiant attempts to steer forthe calm waters lying beyond Pemaquid Point Light, three fishing vessels never made it to safety. The schooners George F. Edmunds, Sadie, and Lillie were dashed to pieces on the unforgiving rocks. At least a dozen fishermen drowned in the turbulent waters. Not withstanding this sad reminder of the awesome power of Mother Nature, Pemaquid Point Light has served the mariners of Maine steadfastly for over 160 years. Originally built in 1827, the rubble stone lighthouse was established to guard the western entrance to Muscongus Bay. Constructed at a cost of only $2,800, the tower began to shed its stones soon after completion. Apparently, the mason who laid the original mortar and stone used inadequate materials. Another contractor was hired in 1835 to rebuild the tower with double walls, this time with instructions to use only the best materials and fresh water to mix the mortar. Although standing only 38 feet high, the lighthouse tower sits on a high cliff, resulting in a 79-foot focal plane. In 1857, the antiquated lighting system was replaced with a fourth order Fresnel lens. The flashing beacon could now be seen by mariners for 14 nautical miles. In that same year, the stone keepers cottage, suffering from the same poor workmanship as the original tower, was replaced by the current white frame dwelling. A small, red brick building was added in 1897 to house an automatic bell-striking machine. Pemaquid's first keeper was Isaac Dunham. Dunham, as well as most of the subsequent keepers, supplemented his meager income by farming the fertile land that lies close to the lighthouse. He built several barns during his tenure. Thirteen keepers followed Mr. Dunham before the lighthouse was automated in 1934, one of the first stations in the country to operate without human presence. This historic beacon, with toes 11,000 candlepower, has operated uninterrupted until this present day. In 1940, the town of Bristol assumed control of the keepers cottage and surrounding property. The U.S. Coast Guard maintains the tower and light. Pemaquid Point Lighthouse Park, which is open to the public, includes an art gallery and maritime museum. Although the tower is generally off-limits to visitors, a Fresnel lens, almost identical to Pemaquid's own lens, is on display in the Navigation Room. There are many other displays throughout the museum, dedicated to Mainers other lighthouses and seafaring history. These exhibits commemorate the traditions of fishing, lobstering, net making, and boat building. Visitors to this picturesque sentinel are usually awestruck by the natural rock sculptures lying just below the light. Incredible formations have been carved out by centuries of pounding surf. Standing on the ancient granite bluff on a clear day, you can sometimes see beautiful Mohegan Island, lying ten miles to the east.
Portland Breakwater
Maine
Locally known as "Bug Light" (due to its diminutive size), Portland Breakwater was built in 1875 when it replaced the original light which was built of wood in 1855. This is the only lighthouse in the U.S. known to resemble a Grecian monument. It was automated in 1935, and would have offered many more years of guidance, but the area near the breakwater was filled and used for ship building in World War II. The light was no longer needed, and was extinguished in 1942.Thanks to the efforts of devoted organizations, the "Bug Light" had a facelift in 1990 and is best seen from tour boats out of Portland.
Portland Head Light
Maine
It is difficult to think of Maine without imagining a portrait of Portland Head Light. Mainers most famous and beloved landmark has been the subject of numerous poems and stories, and countless paintings. Many famous authors, including Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, have journeyed tithe rocky cliffs at the entrance of Portland Harbor, to contemplate life and draw inspiration from this celebrated sentinel. By the late 1700s, Portland had grown into America's sixth largest port. The fatal wreck of a 90-ton sloop in 1787 prompted local citizens to demand construction of a lighthouse. Petitions eventually persuaded the state legislature to appropriate the necessary funds. The headland north of Cape Elizabeth served as a natural lookout for the harbor and was an obvious site for a light station. Work proved to be slow however, and during this period the U.S. Congress passed legislation placing aids for navigation under Federal control. With a new resolve, and more funds to work with, a 64-foot rubble stone tower and keepers house was finally completed at the end of 1790.In January of 1791, the light at Portland Head was illuminated. The first lantern was more than likely a spider lamp, quite ineffective by later standards. Captain Joseph Green leaf, who had served with distinction during the Revolutionary War, was appointed by President Washington as the first keeper. As early as 1797, reports of deterioration caused concern for officials. In 1813, the tower was completely rebuilt and fitted with a ten foot, octagonal iron lantern. A new Argand lamp and parabolic reflector system, was installed to replace the outdated spider lamps.>From 1820 to 1850, there was very little development in the way of keeper training or in technology for America's lighthouses. Efforts by Washington bureaucrats to keep costs down kept light stations years behind their European counterparts. The founding of the Lighthouse Board in 1852 prompted radical changes at Portland Head Light. This included professional keeper training, the installation of a fourth-order Fresnellens, and the addition of a 24-foot bell tower. By 1865, Portland Headlight was almost unrecognizable, compared to its early days. The tower was raised an additional 20 feet and a second-order Fresnel lens was installed in the new lantern. In 1869, a retired sea captain, Joshua Freeman Stout, brought his family to Portland Light and took over as head keeper. In his very first year, Keeper Stout almost lost his life when a huge wave destroyed the bell tower. For the next sixty years, this famous family kept the lantern burning. On several occasions they risked their own safety to rescue shipwrecked crews from the icy sea. Numerous technological and structural changes were instituted over the coming years. Certainly, the most profound physical improvement occurred in 1891. The beautiful double keeper's dwelling that most of us associate with the popular lighthouse was built in that year. Unlike most stations, automation came quite late to Portland Head Light. In 1989, the Coast Guard transferred all monitoring to its base in Southport land. The keepers dwelling now belongs to the town of Cape Elizabeth. Although technology has made the life of the modern mariner easier, the site of this familiar white tower and flashing beacon instill an important reminder to a sailor that he is coming home.
Port Sanilac
Michigan
On the western shore of beautiful Lake Huron, a charming eight-sided lighthouse tower rises through the trees, reminding visitors of another era. Located on the thumb of Michigan's lower peninsula, in a marshy area 20 miles north of Port Huron, this handsome Victorian station was one of the last to be built on the lake. With the remarkable growth of the iron and copper industries in Michigan in the nineteenth century, shipping traffic increased dramatically on the Great Lakes. Shipments of lumber from nearby Canada to the United States also flourished as never before. Between 1825 and 1890, more than two dozen light stations were established on Michigan's Lake Huron shorelines. Generally smaller than their Atlantic coastal cousins, these sentinels were nonetheless crucial for the safety and guidance of lakevessels.In 1884, Congress approved funding for a light to be established at PortSanilac, strategically located forty miles north of Detroit, Michigan's oldest and largest city. Two years later, in April, construction of a fifty-nine foot brick tower and attached keepers dwelling began in earnest. Engineers designed the tower to taper from a fourteen-foot diameter at the base to nine feet at the parapet. Instead of using typical bracket-style supports, skilled masons flared the brickwork at this point to hold the lantern room and shining red roof. Completing the white tower was an octagonal cast iron lantern, fitted with a fourth-order Fresnel lens, built by Barbier and Fenestre of Paris. The state-of-the-art beehive lens was formed from nine fixed panels and a brass reflector. On October 20, 1886, the lamps at Port Sanilac were finally lit. Rising sixty-nine feet from the surface of Lake Huron, the powerful beacon provided welcome guidance for ships navigating these unpredictable waters. Originally designed to burn kerosene, the lantern room was electrified in 1924. Although the historic station is currently a private residence, it continues to serve as an active aid to navigation with the U.S.. Coast Guard maintaining the light. At the present time, the lighthouse is understandably off limits to the public. It can be easily viewed from the water or a nearby pier. The ivy-covered brick facade of the keepers house and stately tower make this one of the Great Lakes most unique and picturesque sentinels.
Round Island
Michigan
Sandwiched between the Upper and Lower Peninsulas of Michigan lies one of the busiest shipping lanes in the Great Lakes, the Straits of Mackinac. A number of islands mark this important passageway, that connects two of the largest fresh water bodies in the world, Lake Superior and Lake Huron. Between two of these islands, Mackinac and Round Island, dangerous shoals abound, so much so, that until 1895, ships went completely out of their way to avoid this channel. Upon authorization from Congress, a lighthouse was eventually established at Round Island in the latter part of the 19th century. Although the exact date of completion is sometimes disputed, by 1895 the lighthouse was fully operational. For the next 30 years, a keeper and two assistants kept watch from the square two-story wooden house and attached brick tower. A brick base provided a strong foundation for the unique structure, one of the most recognized lighthouses on the Great Lakes. In 1924, the light at Round Island was fully automated and the staff was reduced to just one keeper. By 1947, a channel light closer to Mackinac Island made the Round Island station obsolete, and the Coast Guard discontinued its use. During a period when it was turned over to the Forest Service in 1958 for inclusion in the Hiawatha National Forest, the lighthouse gradually fell into disrepair. In the early 1970's swift flowing water washed away the breakwater at the base of the keeper's dwelling and opened a hole in the structural foundation. Private preservation groups, working side-by-side with Federal and State agencies, eventually restored the lighthouse to its original state in1978. Today it is, without a doubt, one of the most striking and picturesque light stations on the Great Lakes. The wooden portion of the dwelling has been repainted a conspicuous bright white. A refurbished cement break wall still guards the front portion of the building from erosion. The tower, located on the northwest corner of the building facing the water, is covered by a black cast iron parapet and iron railing. While the lantern room is now empty, a nearby steel tower sports still active automated beacon. Round Island has enjoyed a very different history from nearby Mackinac Island. Known for its beautiful "around" tree top skyline, Round Island has remained somewhat of a wilderness in comparison to its touristic neighbor. That hasn't changed the fact, however, that it's famous lighthouse is probably the most viewed in the State of Michigan. A daytrip on the local ferry just wouldn't be the same without a glimpse of this remarkable sentinel.
Sandy Point Shoal Light
Maryland
Driving over the Bay Bridge at night between Annapolis and Maryland's beautiful Eastern Shore, a familiar sight blinks its warning message to cars, as well as passing ships. In the daylight, Sandy Point Shoal Lighthouse serves as an important day mark for vessels navigating the Chesapeake Bay. Its distinctive red, white, and black markings have been welcome sight to mariners for more than a century. Sandy Point Shoal Light was first established on the banks of the Chesapeake in 1858. The original station was first tended by William Jewell, until his death in 1860. His wife, Mary, continued to keep the lantern lit for another year. By 1882, the lighthouse was deemed to be basically ineffective. A year later, the station was relocated to the water, where it was of much use to mariners. A sturdy caisson, made of cast iron and concrete, thirty-five feet in diameter, was sunk three feet into the sand, and topped with a two and a half story octagonal brick dwelling. Thirty-seven feet above the surface of the platform, the black lantern room held a fourth-order Fresnel lens, imported from France. With its fifty-one foot focal plane, navigators could now find the light from a fairly long distance. During inclement weather, when the light was obscured, a fog bell sounded a clear warning for ship's pilots. Affectionately referred to as "spark plug" or "coffee pot" lights, caisson-style lighthouses have proved to be extremely reliable. While far less stylish than their masonry counterparts, they have held their ground during the stormiest weather. Beginning in 1870, improved forged, rolled, and cast iron processes gave architects a great deal of flexibility in designing inexpensive navigational aids. By 1880, cast iron piers became the standard foundation for offshore and breakwater lighthouses. Sandy Point Shoal Light was occupied by a number of keepers over the course of eight decades. Following the trend of other lighthouses, in1963, automation brought an end to the need for human presence. This historic light has continued to serve as an active aid to navigation until this present day, although the Fresnel lens has given way to a solar optic. While visitors are not allowed to tour the station at this present time, you can easily view this historic structure by boat or from nearby Sandy Point Park.
Seven Foot Knoll
Maryland
For much of maritime history, building lighthouses directly over bodies of water was considered impractical, if not impossible. With the invention of prefabricated cast iron materials in the nineteenth century, such ideas were no longer in the realm of fiction. Not far from the mouth of the Patapaco River near Baltimore, a series of hazardous shoals lies just below the surface of the water. Known as Seven Foot Knolls, deep water vessels make a wide berth here. To make matters worse, the waters surrounding the shoals are renowned for their dangerous currents. In 1855, construction of a screw pile light, one of the earliest to be built on the Chesapeake Bay, began at Seven Foot Knolls. Built by a Baltimore foundry, the station was created from cast iron components that were transported and assembled at the site. Forty feet in diameter, the original station was octagonal in shape. The lantern was illuminated by a fourth-order Fresnel lens. Heavy winter ice floes eventually took their toll on the station. Around1875, the keepers cottage was replaced by the current round, forty-foot red structure. Nine years later a heavy chunk of ice severed one of the pilings as if it were made of wood. To prevent further damage, officials placed groups of oak piles on all sides of the station, about 50 feet away. Within ten years, the pilings had completely disappeared. While seemingly primitive, the keepers quarters were quite spacious and supported numerous families. One keeper even kept hogs and chickens at the station! In 1933, Seven Foot Knolls last civilian keeper, Thomas Steakhouse, was awarded the congressional Medal of Heroism for performing dramatic rescue of five men during a terrible storm. Fifteen years later, the light was automated. By the early 1970s, improved navigation techniques rendered the beacon unnecessary, and the station was deactivated. The structure gradually deteriorated and was eventually declared surplus property. Thankfully, the City of Baltimore obtained title to the lighthouse. On a clear October day in 1988, the sentinel was removed from its pilings and barged seven miles to Pier 5 at the Baltimore Inner Harbor. Today, Seven Foot Knoll Light has been restored and is an integral feature of the Baltimore Maritime Museum, enjoyed by thousands of visitors each year. Managed by the Living Classrooms Foundation, the Museum consists of the lighthouse, the Submarine Tusk, the Coast Guard Cutter Taney and other exciting maritime exhibits.
Scituate Lighthouse
Massachusetts
On a quiet September morning in 1814, two young girls, Rebecca and Abigail Bates, were busy with their daily chores. Their father, keeper of the Scituate Lighthouse, was away on errands. Suddenly, the British naval ship La Hogue entered Scituate Harbor with intentions to burn the town tithe ground. While a landing party of British marines rowed toward the shore, Rebecca and Abigail sent their younger brother into town to warn the local militia. After extinguishing the lantern in the lighthouse, the girls came up with a brilliant plan to confuse the approaching invaders. Grabbing a fife and drum, the brave patriots hid in the woods and played martial tunes. As the boats came closer, the commander of the warship ordered a halt to the invasion. A parting shot aimed at the lighthouse feel short, and the day was saved by these young heroes. Rebecca and Abigail Bates will be forever remembered as the " American Army of Two." Scituate Lighthouse was first illuminated on September 19th, 1811. Years of protests by fishermen and mariners prompted Congress to appropriate$4,000 for a lighted navigational aid at the harbor entrance. Constructed of granite, the 25-foot octagonal tower was built at Cedar Point, on the northern side of Scituate's harbor. A twenty-four square foot wooden cottage was added for the keeper and his family. Within a few years, it became apparent that the light was only effective for ships entering the harbor. In an effort to aid vessels headed towards Boston, an additional forty feet was added to the tower in 1827. Upon completion of the new addition, officials made an unusual decision to install a double lighting system, with a fixed white light projecting over a red one. This unique design only seemed to confuse mariners, since the lights merely merged into one at a distance. Several attempts to separate the beacons proved ineffective. In 1852, the lower optic was removed and the window panes were bricked over. Three years later, an improved lighting system and Fresnel lens were added. On the morning of November 14 1860, Scituate Lighthouse was officially decommissioned. A newer and more powerful optic had just been installed at nearby Minots Ledge, and the light at Scituate was deemed unnecessary. Despite repeated requests by local fishermen to reactivate the light, the Lighthouse Board remained firm in its decision. They eventually added a small lantern at the end of new breakwater in 1891, but the lighthouse remained dark. In 1917, the town of Scituate purchased their beloved lighthouse and surrounding grounds from the federal government. Over the next few years, the Scituate Department of Parks gradually restored the old station. Since 1968, the Scituate Historical Society has taken responsibility forthe care and upkeep of the property. On July 6 1991, in recognition of the lighthouse's historic past, the light was reactivated as a privately maintained beacon. Rising 80 feet above the water, the beacon is only visible within the harbor. Scituate Light is currently open to the public on certain designated days of the year. This proud, old sentinel has been lovingly cared for by the citizens of Scituate for almost eight decades. Their unselfish devotion sets a wonderful example for other coastal towns to follow.
Spectacle Reef Light
Michigan
Lying just below the surface of the shallow waters dividing the Upper and Lower Peninsulas of Michigan, are some of the most dangerous shoals in the entire Great Lakes. Resembling a pair of eyeglasses, the rocks of Spectacle Reef lie in wait, watching for unsuspecting passing ships. These perilous waters are situated in Lake Huron, 11 miles east of the Mackinac Straights, the narrow divide that separates the two peninsulas. This area has been the scene of bustling ship traffic for more than two centuries, with large numbers of crafts heading through the Straights to reach nearby Lake Michigan. Over the years, numerous vessels have run aground at Spectacle Reef. At the shallowest point, only seven feet separate the rocks from the water's surface. In 1867, after two large schooners were destroyed on the reef, officials realized that mariners could no longer operate safely without some type of warning light. According to the Lighthouse Board, the area was probably more dreaded by navigators than any other danger now unmarked throughout the entire chain of lakes. Realizing that the cost of damaged vessels had already far exceeded the possible cost of lighthouse construction, in 1869, Congress authorized funds to establish a permanent light at Spectacle Reef. The work that began in 1870 would not be completed until 1874 and proved to be one of the most difficult engineering feats in maritime history. Not only did the lighthouse have to be built on an underwater foundation, but in the midst of a very harsh climate. Construction was impossible enduring the long winter months and only 20 months of actual labor took place during those four years. A base of operations was established 16 miles northwest in Scammon's Harbour, Les Cheneaux, under the supervision of Major O.M.Poe. The location Poe chose for the light was directly over the wreckage of the Nightingale, one of the two ships that had been destroyed three years earlier, 10 miles east of Bois Blanc Island. Upon removal of the Nightingale, a crib dam was built around the work site and the water pumped out, so that the crews could have a dry site to work on. The bedrock foundation was then leveled and bolted to preshaped limestone, brought in from Marblehead, Ohio. Each spring, workers had to deal with an incredible build up of ice, that often eroded much of the previous year's effort. In May of 1874, crews had to cut through 30 feet of massive ice sheets before work could begin. Eventually the underwater walls; were expanded to a thickness of 20 feet at the bottom, tapering off to 6 feet at the top. The first 34 feet of the tower was a solid mass of stone, thereafter rising 5 stories to the lantern. The conical shaped tower eventually reached a height of 95 feet(86 feet above water), the tallest and most impressive stone lighthouse on the Great Lakes. Upon completion, the final cost of construction had risen to $406,000, an enormous amount of money for that time. In June of 1874 the lantern was lit for the first time. The second -order Fresnel lens, crafted by Parisian artisans, gave the beacon a maximum candlepower of 400,000. For the past 120 years, Spectacle Reef Light has faithfully served the mariners of Lake Huron, in all types of inclement weather. The lamp, automated since the 1970s, is now solar powered. If you sail by the light station today, you will no doubt notice the unusual tan colored tower, capped by a bright orange dome. From a distance, this imposing lighthouse looks quite lonely,. Upon closer inspection, however, you will find large numbers of lake gulls who call the concrete platform home.
Split Rock Light
Minnesota
Thunderous waves pounding the caves beneath the cliff so hard the entire rock quakes. Gale winds driving the spray completely over the promontory, sculpting ice an inch thick on the east windows. Water pipes and inkbottles alike freezing; hot-water head failing; lightning storms knocking down curtains and making the old fashioned telephone dance in the dining room. Summer nights so idyllically quiet, fish could be heard jumping farbelow in the dark water, or through an open window a hand-wound victrola playing records newly arrived by boat from Chicago. These words, written by Ileana Covell-Meyers, the daughter of Keeper Frank Covell, eloquently describe the isolation and contrasts of life at Split Rock Light,. Until the establishment of the International Highway in 1924, the only access to this distant outpost in the northern Minnesota wilderness was by boat. Keepers and their families were dropped off by steamer in early April, just after the spring thaw. They would remain at their posts until early December, when Lake Superior would freeze over and give the keepers a well-earned break from monotony. Split Rock Light was originally commissioned in 1910 y the United States Lighthouse Service. Increasing lake traffic to and from Duluth, particularly for the purpose of transporting iron ore, made the establishment of a permanent light station essential. The site chosen for this venture would be considered spectacular by any standards. Split Rock lighthouse was built atop a shear 130-foot cliff, with the broad expanse of Lake Superior spreading below. A total of 10 structures were built on the original 7.6 acre site, including housing for the head keeper, his two assistants, and their families. A four-and-a-half-ton third-order Fresnel lens was installed in the lantern room, resting on a bed of mercury. For the first 30 years, the beautiful clam shell style lens drew its lighting source from a kerosene vapor lamp. In 1940, a year after the Coast Guard absorbed the U.S.. :lighthouse Service, electricity was finally brought to Split Rock.>From dusk to dawn, keepers kept the 1000 watt light bulb flashing in 10second intervals. In period of low visibility, eight foot copper foghorns would sound warnings every 20 seconds, audible to ships five milesaway.After the Second World War, with the addition of an access road built by the Conservation Corps, Split rock Light became a major attraction for summer vacationers. Keepers began to wear their dress uniforms full time to support their new found role as tour guides. A once isolated station became one of the most visited lighthouses in the country. By 1969, with a decline in shipping traffic, and advances in ship to shore radio communication, it was determined that the light at Split rock was no longer necessary. The station was decommissioned and turned over to the State of Minnesota as a public historic site. Each year more than 200,000visitors flock to Split Rock to camp and hike, tour the famous lighthouse, and enjoy a breathtaking view of the lake. On November 10, 1975, just six years after the light at Split Rock was darkened, the Edmund Fitzgerald, a 729-foot iron ore freighter from Superior, Wisconsin, ran into a severe storm. The huge ship was destroyed and all 29 hands were lost. Each year since, on the anniversary of the ill-fated wreck, the resident site manager of the Minnesota Historical society has climbed the spiral staircase to light the lantern. Although the effort is symbolic, the keeper wants to honor the unfortunate crew, and remind succeeding generations of the important role that lighthouses have played in shaping our history.
Sharps Island
Maryland
Late in the winter of 1881, the keepers at Sharps Island Light faced a life and death crisis unique in the annals of lighthouse history. While keeping watch in their screw pile lighthouse, large sheets of ice began to flow southward from the Chop tank River. When a huge ice floe inevitably hit the station, it miraculously severed the lighthouse cleanly from its iron spindle legs. Instead of sinking, the lighthouse actually floated like a boat on the bay for sixteen hours. Eventually, some brave souls on the shore rowed out to rescue the wayward vessel. Through it all, the keepers remained at their post, and even made a concerted effort to save valuable lighthouse tools and property. The following year, a coffee-pot style light was built to replace the damaged screw pile station. This current sentinel was actually Sharps Island's third lighthouse, the first lasting from 1838 until the Civil War. Using a concrete caisson foundation and cast iron construction materials, the island's new tower stood a mere thirty-five feet, with a focal plane of fifty-four feet. A fourth-order Fresnel lens was placed in the lantern room providing adequate lighting for local navigation. Although not as attractive as its predecessor, the iron tower has proven to be extremely functional, and has served mariners quite well until this day. Once covered with 700 acres of trees and farmland, Sharps Island is located three miles south of Tilghman Island, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Home to fishermen and vacationers, this wooded paradise gradually gave way to the forces of Mother Nature. By the early 1960s,water covered the entire island. All that remained was an underwater base with which to anchor the lighthouse. Automated since 1950, the blinking white beacon provides a warning to boaters of the shallow waters. During the 1970s, heavy ice floes once again wreaked havoc upon Sharps Island Light. Pushed into a permanent list, the tower has remained with twenty degree tilt until this day. Recent debate has risen regarding the value of this historic sentinel. The Coast Guard contends that the station is too costly to maintain, and could possibly pose a danger to nearby vessels, should it ever topple. Supporters of the light refer to its historical importance, as well as its value as a depth and day marker. Public comment on the issue is welcomed by the Coast Guard and a decision is expected in the near future.
St. Joseph North Pier Lights
Michigan
In the early 1800s, there were few, if any, useful navigational aids to guide mariners venturing onto Lake Michigan. It is said that one innovative ship captain's wife would hang lanterns in the second story windows of their lakeside house to shepherd her husband safely into port. With the rapid growth of commerce in the southern lake region, the need for permanent light stations became increasingly apparent. At the mouth of the St. Joseph River in southwestern Michigan, strategically located due east of Chicago, a thriving harbor flourished. In 1832, on a bluff overlooking the busy port, the first Michigan lighthouse on the lake was established. Thomas Fitzgerald took up residence in the round stone tower at St. Joseph's first keeper. Fourteen years later, a wooden pier was built, extending out into the lake, and an additional light was constructed at the pier's terminus. Improvements and changes became a common occurrence over the next few decades. In 1859, the original stone shore light was replaced by another building. However, installation of a powerful new Fresnel lens in 1886gave the pier light a far more effective beacon than its land-based counterpart. The shore station remained in operation until 1924, and was eventually torn down in the 1950s.Weathering the elements has proven to be a constant battle for the North Pier Lights. The original inner light has been replaced several times since the 1880s. In 1906, just eight short years after a previous facelift, the wooden pier was extended an additional 1000 feet, and the light was torn down again. Upon reconstruction the following year, a second light tower was added at the end of the pier. From that time on, the lighthouses have been known as the Inner and Outer Lights.St. Joseph Inner Pier Light, often referred to as the rear range light, consists of a steel-framed fog signal building, topped by an octagonal shaped light tower. It measure 58 feet from the base of the tower to the top of the ventilator ball, and is equipped with a fourth-order Fresnellens. A red hip roof adds a nice contrasting touch to the bright white siding. The Outer Pier Light, also called the front range light, is a much smaller, simple structure, rising only 30 feet above the water. Order-order fixed Fresnel lens apparatus completes the conical-shaped steel tower. Rising one full story above the pier, a cat walk was constructed, allowing keepers to walk to and from the shore and towers, even during the stormiest weather. Today, this unique pair of lighthouses continue to guide ships outside the twin cities of Benton Harbor and St. Joseph. It remains one of the few active pier range light systems on the Great Lakes. Visitors to the area will be impressed by the beautiful surroundings, including lovelyTiscornia Park, lying just north of the pier. While you are there, take a moment to stroll down the concrete pier, fish in the lake, and view these splendid sentinels up close.
Tawas Point Lighthouse
Michigan
On the eastern shore of Michigan's Lower Peninsula lies one of the most beautiful locations on the Lake Huron shore. Known to the local population as Ottawa Point until the turn of the century, Tawas Point is situated at the mouth of Tawas Bay. Renown for its lovely beaches and dunes, this hook shaped strip of land also marks the northwestern entrance to Michigan's world famous Saginaw Bay. In an effort to protect and guide mariners entering and leaving Saginaw Bay, the Lighthouse Board determined to build several lighthouses on its eastern and western shores. In 1853, just five years after erecting lighthouse on the eastern tip of the Bay in Port Austin, a decision was made to build a light tower at Tawas Point. Unlike most lighthouses, which have to deal with the serious problem of beach erosion, Tawas Point was surrounded by a piece of land that actually continued to grow. Within 20 years, the lighthouse was positioned more than a mile from the lake. Funds were eventually appropriated by Congress to build a much needed replacement tower closer to the shore. Lighted in the spring of 1876, the new lighthouse, with its fourth-order lens, rose 70 feet above lake level. The distinctive conical white tower is connected to a one and one-half story brick keepers quarters by a small passage. Gracing the top of the tower is contrasting black iron walkway and ten-sided red roof that matches the shape of the lantern room. Although long since automated, the lighthouse is still active and shepherd the busy lake traffic with a 20,000 candlepower beacon. Surrounded by huge shade trees the keepers house is currently occupied by the local Coast Guard Commander and his family. For obvious reasons, the lighthouse and the surrounding grounds are off limits to the public most of the year. Tours can be arranged by special appointment, however, and during one weekend every June, the tower is open to the public. You can climb the winding stairs, enjoy a breathtaking view of the lake, and remind yourself of a simpler and nobler time.
Thomas Point Light
Maryland
Since early colonial days, the Chesapeake Bay has served as an important center for fishing, crabbing, and commerce. Enveloped by a complex maze of marshy inlets, hidden coves and winding backwaters, these waters encompass seven hundred miles of some of the most beautiful shoreline in the eastern United States. Although the waters of the Chesapeake are normally quite placid, the relatively tranquil surface belies unseen dangers below. Not far from Annapolis, near Thomas Point, a bank of hazardous shoals forced vessels requiring deep water to swing wide around the point. Because of the rapid growth of shipping on the Bay, Congress decided as early as 1824 to build a lighthouse at Thomas Point. Officials unfortunately hired a novice contractor to complete the job. After a few short years, the lighthouse was torn down, and Winslow Lewis was commissioned to design a new tower. This new station was almost as shaky as the first and very poorly lit. After three decades, it became evident that a more lasting solution was needed. In 1875, the Lighthouse Board made a bold decision to build a new light offshore where it would be much more effective, immediately over the shoals. A two story, hexagonal cottage was constructed, supported by a framework of seven wrought iron screw piles, each twisted into the Bay's sandy bottom. A powerful Fresnel lens completed the station, providing marked improvement over earlier station. Offshore screw pile lights were first constructed to mark the treacherous Florida reef. They became popular in the latter part of the nineteenth century, particularly on the Chesapeake Bay and Carolina Sounds. While they were generally secure, screw pile lights were especially vulnerable to winter ice floes. A huge, moving chunk of ice could sever a tower completely from its pilings. Today, Thomas Point Shoal Light stands proudly, having endured six decades of storms, floods, and ice floes. Automated in 1986, it is the last remaining, active screw pile light on the Bay. Visible only from the water or air, visitors can contact the Tourism Council of Annapolis and Anne Arundle Counties for information about boat tours. A friend to fishermen and mariners, the red and white sentinel remains an enduring symbol of the Chesapeake Bay.
West Quoddy Head
Maine
The original lighthouse tower at West Quoddy Head was built in 1808 and used only 50 years, when the existing tower was put into service. It measures 49 feet, and its light is 83 feet above sea level. West QuoddyHead, along with its fellow lights on Libby Islands and Mistake Island, were extremely effective in preventing shipwrecks; even so, there were disasters, among them the destruction of the Ella G. Ellis in 1906. Sheran aground in the fog, and only the captain survived. This light is often used in commercial marketing, making it one of the most recognized in the nation. The Coast Guard automated the light in1988, and it remains active today.
White River
Michigan
In the early nineteenth century, a thick forest of pine trees and hemlock covered western Michigan. In the late 1830s, the first sawmill was built on White Lake, about six miles from Lake Michigan and White River Harbor, near Whitehall. Within a few years, schooners dotted these shores, eagerly awaiting deliveries of freshly cut planking and shingles. As early at 1853, officials petitioned Congress for a lighthouse at White River. In addition, mill owners and merchants urged the government to build a channel connecting landlocked White Lake to Lake Michigan, tore place an earlier channel. A new channel was finally completed in 1870.The tragic Chicago fire of 1871 further fueled the demand for timber, as the devastated city began to rebuild. That same year, a small beacon was established at the end of the South Pier, near the channel entrance. Construction of a primary light at White River commenced in September1875. White Rivera's first designated keeper, William Robinson, who had also tended the South Pier light, had a direct hand in the building process, helping with the masonry and painting. Built of Michigan limestone and brick, the dwelling and 38-foot tower were completed shortly after Christmas. A beautiful fourth-order Fresnel lens and brass lamp arrived at the station in the spring of 1876. On May 13, 1876, Mr. Robinson illuminated the beacon for the first time, a job he performed faithfully until his death in 1919 at the age of 87.By the mid-1880s, logging had slowed considerably, as most of the area's timber had been harvested. The light station continued to serve as a valuable aid, however, for passenger ships and other vessels entering the channel. In 1906, the steamship Carolina began regular ferry service between White Lake and Chicago. White Rivera's beacon was automated in 1945. In 1960, the light was deactivated, and the lens was removed. Six years later, Fruitland Township acquired the aging lighthouse from the Coast Guard. Over the next four years, the dwelling and tower were lovingly restored, and nautical artifacts were collected. In 1970, the White River Light Station Museum was opened to the public for the first time. Two years later, the Coast Guard agreed to return the classic lens to its rightful place. Today, nearly 6,000 people visit the historic sentinel each year.
