Hope Town Lighthouse

On Sunday we had the fortunate experience to be able to climb the Hope Town lighthouse. Though we have climbed other lighthouses on this trip, what makes this one special is that it is one of only three hand operated, kerosene fueled lighthouses left in the world. The other two are also in the Bahamas, and are scheduled to be closed later this year.
Our first trip up was in the afternoon. A strong cold front blew through and we thought it would be exciting to see the effect the wind has on the ocean from the top of the lighthouse. Indeed! With winds likely topping 40 knots, the ocean was angry looking and had standing waves at the visible reefs. The bank side actually looked worse. With water depths averaging only about 11 feet, the wind had churned up some pretty nasty looking chop, and the only visible boat was the water taxi scurrying into channel enroute from Marsh Harbour. At the top of our climb, the girls checked out all directions from the outdoor catwalk, physically stopped by the gusts at times.

We returned to the lighthouse at 6pm, by invitation of the keeper. We were going to witness a piece of history, and watch the lighthouse being lit!
Sam is a native Bahamian with a fabulous recount of the history of this and other Bahamian lighthouses. He began his lighting procedure by pouring a small amount of kerosene in a cup and warming it over a small flame. He began his storytelling like this....

The Hope Town lighthouse was built in 1863. It has had an exterior addition of reinforcement, and other than that is completely original. The stairs we climbed, were built in 1863; the mechanism that rotates the base the light sits on, built in 1863; the lenses that magnify the little kerosene lamp making it visible for a distance of 23 miles, built in 1863! Sam relayed that as a child he grew up in lighthouses, as his father was also a lighthouse keeper. A one point there were 11 manually operated lighthouses in the Bahamas, and his father worked in 10 of them. Everywhere Sam has lived, that constant rotating light has shone over his sleep during every minute of darkness. As a kid, he got to know the workings of lighthouses. Their mechanics, their intricacies, their characters. Eventually Sam's father settled at the Hope Town lighthouse, working shifts side by side with his brother. One works 6 - midnight, the other midnight to daybreak. The next night they switch, and so on .... 365 days a year. Sadly, Sam's father passed away 10 years ago, and never saw his son take on the duties of his life's work 8 years ago. Now, Sam shares these same duties with his cousin, the son of his uncle who worked beside his father.

By now, Sam has continued his ritual. He has done a visual check of the mechanism, climbed a ladder a further 10 feet above our heads and opened the curtains that cover the windows, protecting the lenses from the sun.

He continues his story as he works.
Beyond the actual structure of the lighthouse itself, the lenses are most precious. He tells us they cost about $10,000 each to replace. In unison, all visitors shift their gaze to the enormous glasswork above us to make the mental calculation: each face has 28 lenses. There are 8 faces. Clearly, it would be an enormous expense to replace even the few that are already cracked. And each lighthouse has unique lenses, they cannot be borrowed from other structures. We all marvel at how they would have been lifted up the 110 feet from the ground below. Carefully, they would have been placed in their frame which was precisely built to hold them. This frame sits on a bed of mercury, allowing it to spin with essentially no friction. 150 years has not brought us much closer to the dream of perpetual motion.

Now the kerosene is sufficiently warmed. Sam pours it into the lamp, lights it, and we are all surrounded by the unmistakable hissing sound and warm smell of a Coleman lantern. A few moments later, the flame has been adjusted to his satisfaction. It must be bright enough to cast its glow for miles around, yet do so efficiently. We are told this lighthouse burns about 2 gallons of kerosene a night. Sam climbs back down to our level. He has already cranked up the weights that hang down the centre of the circular stairs. Their potential energy will slowly be used to turn the gears that keep the light turning. Every two hours the weights must be cranked up again to keep the lighthouse operating. He tells us he now wakes automatically without an alarm. Rising about 20 minutes before necessary, he will climb the 101 stairs to the top, crank up the weights, check that all is well, then descend again to his bed in the keeper's house at the bottom.

As he talks, he continues his work. With a gentle hand, he pushes the light into motion. The gears silently begin their movement. Once the light settles into a constant speed, Sam stands beside, one hand on the turning frame feeling the speed. He makes a small adjustment with a cog below. He repeats this procedure a couple of more times, his tuning becoming finer each time. The last time he stands a moment longer than the rest, closing his eyes to make sure he's got it right.
"How do you know how fast it needs to go?" we ask.
"After all this time, you can just feel it." he answers with a smile.

Sam loves this lighthouse. He is hopeful that this marvel, which has kept so many lives safe over the last 150 years will be spared future government cuts. The town is fighting hard to protect the landmark that has towered over it for so long.
I am glad my girls got to see it, got to hear Sam's story.