Lightships and Lighthouses

by Frederick Arthur Ambrose Talbot

To the right is the stump of Smeaton’s historic tower.

From the entrance, which was about 15 feet above high-water, a central well, some 5 feet in diameter, containing a staircase, led to the storeroom, nearly 30 feet above high-water. Above this was a second storeroom, a living-room as the third floor, and the bedroom beneath the lantern. The light was placed about 72 feet above high-water, and comprised a candelabra having two rings, one smaller than, and placed within, the other, but raised about a foot above its level, the two being held firmly in position by means of chains suspended from the roof and secured to the floor. The rings were adapted to receive twenty-four lights, each candle weighing about 2¾ ounces. Even candle manufacture was in its infancy in those days, and periodically the keepers had to enter the lantern to snuff the wicks. In order to keep the watchers of the lights on the alert, Smeaton installed a clock of the grandfather pattern in the tower, and fitted it with a gong, which struck every half-hour to apprise the men of these duties. This clock is now one of the most interesting relics in the museum at Trinity House.

The first stone of the tower was laid on a Sunday in June, 1757, as the date on the block indicates; and although work had to be pursued fitfully and for only a few hours at a time between the tides, in the early stages, Smeaton seized every opportunity offered by the wind and sea to push the task forward. For four years the men slaved upon the rock, and, although the mechanical handling appliances of those days were primitive, the tower was completed without a single mishap. The solidity of the structure, and its lines, which, as the engineer stated, would offer the minimum of resistance to the Atlantic rollers, but at the same time would insure the utmost stability, aroused widespread admiration, for it was felt that the engineer had triumphed over Nature at last. Many people expressed a desire to see how the tower would weather such a storm as carried away Winstanley’s freakish building, especially as, in a roaring sou’-wester, the waves hurled themselves upon the ledge to wreathe and curl upwards to a point far above the dome, blotting the light from sight. The supreme test came in 1762, when the lighthouse was subjected to a battering and pounding far heavier than any that it had previously known. But the tower emerged from this ordeal unscathed, and Smeaton’s work was accepted as invulnerable.

Photo, Paul, Penzance.

A THRILLING EXPERIENCE.

Landing upon the Eddystone by the crane rope during a rough sea.

The lighthouse had been standing for 120 years, when ominous reports were received by the Trinity Brethren concerning the stability of the tower. The keepers stated that during severe storms the building shook alarmingly. A minute inspection of the structure was made, and it was found that, although the work of Smeaton’s masons was above reproach, time and weather had left their mark. The tower was becoming decrepit. The binding cement had decayed, and the air imprisoned and compressed within the interstices by the waves was disintegrating the structure slowly but surely. While there was no occasion to apprehend a sudden collapse, still it was considered advisable to take precautionary measures in time. Unfortunately, it was not feasible to strengthen Smeaton’s tower so adequately as to give it a new lease of life, while lighthouse engineering had made rapid strides in certain details since it was completed. Another factor to be considered was the desire for a more elevated light, capable of throwing its rays to a greater distance.

Under these circumstances it was decided to build a new tower on another convenient ledge, forming part of the main reef, about 120 feet distant. Sir James Douglass, the Engineer-in-Chief to Trinity House, completed the designs and personally superintended their execution. The Smeaton lines were taken as a basis, with one important exception. Instead of the curve commencing at the foundations, the latter comprised a perfect cylindrical monolith of masonry 22 feet in height by 44 feet in diameter. From this base the tower springs to a height which brings the focal plane 130 feet above the highest spring-tides. The top of the base is 30 inches above high-water, and the tower’s diameter at this point being less than that of its plinth, the set-off forms an excellent landing-stage when the weather permits.

The site selected for the Douglass tower being lower than that chosen by Smeaton, the initial work was more exacting, as the duration of the working period was reduced. The rock, being gneiss, was extremely tough, and the preliminary quarrying operations for the foundation-stones which had to be sunk into the rock were tedious and difficult, especially as the working area was limited. Each stone was dovetailed, not only to its neighbour on either side, but below and above as well. The foundation-stones were dovetailed into the reef, and were secured still further by the aid of two bolts, each 1½ inches in diameter, which were passed through the stone and sunk deeply into the rock below. The exposed position of the reef enabled work to be continued only fitfully during the calmest weather, for often when wind and sea were quiet the rock was inaccessible owing to the swell. Upon the approach of bad weather everything was made fast under the direct supervision of the engineer—a man who took no chances.