The lanterns in which the lamps are fixed are hung round the mast; during the day they are lowered on deck that they may be cleaned, and supplied afresh with oil; at night, this crown of lights is raised to its conspicuous position by means of a pulley. The ship is also provided with some small cannon and a gong. But, unfortunately, these signals are not always comprehended by foreign ships.
The crew of the Scilly lightship, says Esquiros, have witnessed but two shipwrecks; in the one instance, they saved a single life; in the other, all the passengers, with the exception of the wife of a missionary. It is not, however, a part of their duty to go to the rescue of vessels in danger; and if the authorities admire, for obvious reasons they do not encourage such acts of heroism. Their sole and all-absorbing duty is to take care of the light. The discipline to which they are subjected is severe, and no man may quit his post under any pretence whatever. A sailor, in 1854, having been informed of his wife’s death, deserted the lightship, and repaired to London to attend her funeral. He was reprimanded, and it was only in consideration of the motive which had induced his absence that the authorities refrained from discharging him. The lightship of the Seven Stones, off the Scilly Islands, is the most exposed of all the vessels on the British coast;[58] its captain, however, considers that it rides much more easily on its anchors in a sea where waves are long and regular, than those ships which are moored in seas with short and contrary waves. He will tell you that his gallant barque is always ready for the tempest. And yet its deck is sometimes washed by the waves, and when the sea strikes against its broadside, the roar is like the discharge of a piece of artillery.
On board every lightship the life of the crew is much the same. On Sunday, at dawn, the lantern is lowered, and the lamp-lighter cleans and prepares his lamps for the next night’s work. At eight o’clock everybody must be on the alert; the hammocks are hung up, and breakfast is served. Afterwards, the men wash and put on their uniform, of which they are very proud, for on its buttons figure the arms of the Trinity House. At half-past ten they assemble in the cabin, and the captain or mate performs divine service. At sunset the lighted lantern is hoisted up—the real standard of the vessel—and the crew again meet together for prayer and the reading of the Scriptures. With the exception of the morning and evening services, the week-days close resemble the Sundays. Wednesday and Friday are the chief cleaning days, and the ship then shines with cleanliness. To watch over, and maintain in due order, the lighting apparatus; to keep watch on deck; to note seven times in every twenty-four hours the conditions of the wind and atmosphere; to attend to the condition of the mooring-chains;—such is the almost invariable circle of their occupations. Their leisure time, which is not inconsiderable, they employ in reading. A library is always kept on board, and the books are circulated from hand to hand, and ship to ship. Under such circumstances how miserable would be the condition of a man who could neither read nor write! Yet such is sometimes the case with a few on first entering the service; but whether it be the force of example, or the necessity of overcoming the oppressive ennui of idle hours, it generally happens that, with the assistance of the captain or mate, they more or less repair this absolute want of education. One of the best officers of the company is a man who taught himself reading and writing in order that he might obtain an engagement on board a lightship. The seamen also devote their leisure to all kinds of ingenious manual work, and some of them set to work as shoemakers, joiners, tailors, wood-carvers, and the like.
CHAPTER II.
LANDMARKS, BEACONS, AND BUOYS.
