“I was now almost as bad off as before,” the keeper continued, “a burning fever on me, my feet shot to pieces, no clothes to cover me, nothing to eat or drink, a hot sun overhead, a dead man by my side, no friend near or any to expect, and placed between 70 and 80 feet from the earth with no chance of getting down.”

The old Negro’s body had literally been roasted but there was a piece of his trousers that had escaped the flames by being wet with his blood. With this Thompson made a signal. Some time in the afternoon he saw two boats, with his sloop in tow, coming to the landing. They were the boats of the U. S. schooner Motto, Captain Armstrong, with a detachment of seamen and marines, under the command of Lieutenant Lloyd, of the sloop-of-war Concord. They had retaken Thompson’s sloop, after the Indians had stripped her of sails and rigging. They had heard the explosion, 12 miles off, and had come to his assistance, scarcely expecting to find him alive.

The problem now arose of how to get the keeper down. During the night they made a kite thinking to fly a line to him but to no effect. Then they fired twine from their muskets, made fast to a ramrod, which the keeper received and with it hauled up a tail block, making it fast around an iron stanchion, enabling two men to be hoisted up from below. The keeper was then lowered and was soon on terra firma. He was taken to the military hospital.

Rebuilding of the Cape Florida Light, authorized in 1837, was not completed until 1846 because hostile Indians remained nearby in the Everglades. In 1855 the tower was raised to 95 feet.

The lighting apparatus was destroyed in 1861, during the Civil War, and was not restored until 1867.

Cape Florida Light was discontinued in 1878 when Fowey Rock Light was established, and the tower and property sold to Mr. James Deering of Chicago, Ill. [(8)]

FLORIDA
CAPE SAN BLAS LIGHTHOUSE

The Cape San Blas Lighthouse was completed in 1849 with an appropriation of $8,000 made 2 years earlier. The shoals running out from the cape extended 4 or 5 miles and made it dangerous for all vessels nearing the coast. If the light had been high enough it could have been seen for 20 miles and afforded protection to vessels going to and from Tortugas to New Orleans, but the light from the 85- or 90-foot tower was visible only half that distance. The site was “deemed to be entirely secure from overflow or inundation” by the collector of customs at Apalachicola, Fla., who selected it, with the assistance of “two of our most experienced pilots.”

The lighthouse erected in 1849 “fell down during a gale in the autumn of 1851” and on August 31, 1852, Congress appropriated $12,000 for rebuilding it. The new structure was completed in 1856.

It had been completed only a few months when during the severe storm of August 30, 1856, it too was totally destroyed. “The sea rose so high,” the Lighthouse Board reported, “that the waves struck the floor of the keeper’s dwelling, elevated 8 feet above the ground, and about 14 feet above the ordinary tides. A lagoon now occupies the site of the lighthouse.”