Lighthouses and Lightships / A Descriptive and Historical Account of Their Mode of Construction and Organization

by W. H. Davenport Adams

Robert Hamblin was an experienced and reputable barber of Lynn, who had married the daughter of a shipowner of that busy little seaport, and in due time had become master of a vessel. He was engaged in the coasting trade—in carrying coal from Newcastle to other ports—and was thus well enabled to judge of the inadequate manner in which the eastern coast was lighted. Accident, after a time, introduced him to a man whose brain was full of grand projects, but who was cruelly hampered by poverty—David Avery; and the two, combining their resources—the one finding the money, the other the intellect—established at the Nore a floating light on board a ship, and assumed a right of levying tolls for the maintenance of this new pharos (A.D. 1732).

It was impossible that the Trinity House could regard this assumption as other than an infraction of their legal privileges, though they were compelled to own that the lightship was successful, and that it proved of great assistance in the navigation of the intricate estuary of the Thames. Encouraged by the triumphant issue of his experiment, Avery boldly announced his design of placing a similar vessel among the waters of the Scilly Islands. The corporation of the Trinity House, in their capacity of protectors of British commerce, then laid a complaint before the Lords of the Admiralty; who, however, were either unwilling or unable to act. They next addressed themselves to the Crown, representing that it was illegal for any private individual to levy a tax on the mercantile marine; and acted with so much energy as to obtain a royal proclamation prohibiting the light at the Nore. Avery, whose schemes of acquiring almost boundless wealth were thus rudely broken up, appeared in person before the Board, and proposed to treat with them in reference to the Nore light. He asserted that he had expended a sum of £2000; and his offer was, that all right and title to the floating ship should remain for ever in the hands of the Trinity House, but that the tolls should be levied by him and his heirs for a period of sixty-one years, on payment of a yearly sum of £100. These terms were accepted.[56]

Such, briefly told, was the origin of Lightships.

The lightship, be it understood, is not employed only to indicate the position of a sand-bank, but as a beacon against perfidious currents, submarine whirlpools, or reefs which are hidden at certain hours by the high tide. We borrow from the lively pages of M. Esquiros a sketch of this most useful vessel:—

“When first seen, and especially if seen from a distance, a lightship closely resembles during the day an ordinary barque. But if examined from a nearer point of view, a very great difference between the two is readily discernible. The lightship floats, but it does not move; its short stout masts are without sails, and surmounted by large balls. Other ships represent motion; this, immobility. We ask of vessels, as a rule, that they shall obey the wind and the wave; we ask of the lightship that it shall resist them. What, indeed, would happen if it drifted before the gale? Like a meteor, the wandering light would deceive the pilot, instead of warning him. A ship which does not navigate—a fixed and fettered ship;—such is the ideal which the builder of the light-vessel keeps ever before his mind; and this ideal has naturally troubled the imagination of naval architects in more than one direction.

The form of the lightship varies according to its locality: in Ireland the hull is more elongated than in England; but in all cases the object to be attained is the same—resistance to the force of the winds and waves. It is desired that in the most violent tides, in the midst of the angriest billows, and in situations the most exposed to the influence of the currents, it shall drag as little as possible upon its anchor. That it may at all times and in all conditions preserve the same maritime position, it is securely moored. Like a galley-slave, riveted to an iron chain, it can move neither to the right nor to the left. The length of its cable is, of course, regulated by circumstances: at the Seven Stones, where it rides in 240 feet deep of water, it measures upwards of a third of a mile in length. Some years ago it was found that the addition of certain ingenious shackles (so to speak) controlled its movements; and by various improvements in its construction, the result has been obtained that, slave though it be, it shall weigh as little as possible on its mooring-chains. Usually, the moorings consist of a chain lying along the sea-bed for 1260 feet, with an anchor of 32 cwt., in the shape of a mushroom at either end, and a swivel in the centre, to which is attached a veering cable of 630 feet of chain.

THE LIGHTSHIP.

Few instances are on record of a lightship having broken loose from its moorings, and none of its having suffered shipwreck. Each vessel carries, for emergencies, two bower anchors of 20 cwt. and 15 cwt.; and cables respectively 1260 and 900 feet long. Nor is it known that the crew have, on any occasion, or whatever the fury of the tempest, voluntarily changed their position. If, however, the ship should be driven from its place by the irresistible force of the elements, so that its light may become a source of danger to the mariner, they hoist a red signal and fire a gun, and generally it is soon restored to its normal situation. The peril of drifting, and the presence of mind which the necessary manœuvres require in such an event, are evidences, nevertheless, of the courage and resolution of the men who live, day and night, exposed to the caprice of the seas. As it is necessary to prepare for every accident, a spare vessel is always held in readiness at the headquarters of each district; owing to the telegraphic network which now surrounds our shores, the slightest mishap is soon made known to the authorities; and often before sunset the reserve ship, towed by a powerful steam-tug, occupies the place of the vessel which the storm has driven from its moorings. The lightships of the Trinity House are painted red; those of Ireland, black. Experiment has shown that red and black are the two colours which most vividly contrast with the prevailing hue of the sea. The name of the vessel is inscribed in large letters on its sides. A flag, bearing a cross quartered with four ships, waves at the stern. These are the arms of the Trinity House.