This story is not only about schooling! This is the whole family helping out to run the lighthouse while tending to daily living. Life on the lighthouse in the early days was anything but fun! – retlkpr
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– Elizabeth Kate (Stannard) Smithman (Wife of Henry Herbert Smithman who was Senior Keeper at Sisters Island 1927 – 1929)
Sisters Island
Children get their schooling by correspondence courses and lessons are supposed to be sent to Victoria every month if its possible. The parents have to be the teacher. I took on that job for we had to have a plan so all of us could get a certain amount of sleep.
We would work it like this: Bert would go to bed right after supper after he lit the light. I would call him about 2:30 or 3:00 a.m. and he would get up and watch from then ’till the light could be put out at daylight. Continue reading Schooling on the Sisters Lighthouse c. 1927→
One of our responsibilities as a lighthouse keeper was to assist mariners in distress. This was not a written rule. The written rule was to maintain the light and foghorn.
There was one stipulation in our Rule Book where we could assist a mariner who ran out of gas or diesel by supplying them with enough fuel, free of charge, to get them to the next port of call where they could purchase their own.
One evening Walt Tansky, my boss on Pulteney Point at the time, was interrupted by a knock at the door and saw a young man there who informed him that he had run out of gas and could he get enough to get him to Port Hardy. Walt said he remarked that Port McNeil or Sointula was closer, but the man said he had just come from Alert Bay and was heading north. Continue reading Aiding and Abetting* at Pulteney Point c. 1970→
“MV Queen of Prince Rupert” Aground in Gunboat Pass August 25, 1982
MV Queen of Prince Rupert - photo John Morris
Before you read the story, I must fill in a few details. My wife Karen and I were on McInnes Island lighthouse at the time of the incident. A week before the incident below we picked up the voice of the lightkeeper Henry Bergen at Dryad Point on our scanner in the house. In a loud and agitated voice he was calling “Queen of Prince Rupert! Queen of Prince Rupert! This is Dryad Point! Dryad Point! You are going the wrong way!” The reply came back that they were on a navigational exercise and they had everything in hand.
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Now the story from Harvey Humchitt1 who was on board the ship a week later . . .
It was a typical Friday in Bella Bella. My mother and brother and I had been preparing for a day trip to Port Hardy before the start of school. The trip to Port Hardy was on the “MV Queen of Prince Rupert” which took 6 or 7 hours from Bella Bella to Port Hardy. For me back then it was a holiday in itself. Continue reading “MV Queen of Prince Rupert” Aground in Gunboat Pass 1982→
#1 McInnes Island - photo Rob Desmanche#2 McInnes Island - photo Mike Mitchell
Let’s face it, nobody likes moving. All the packing, loading, carrying, lifting, unpacking. There’s probably nothing more unpleasant to go through, even when you’re moving to a better place and looking forward to moving in.
#3 Loading under the highline#4 Bonnet slings
But try compounding that with the almost insurmountable obstacle of living on an island. Not just any island, but a remote island with no ship docking facilities, and no aircraft facilities beyond a helicopter pad. That’s
#5 Work crew helping#6 Work crew place snotters on the crates
exactly what a
friend of mine was doing here. Glenn is a member of the Canadian Coast Guard, and was at the time the principal lighthouse keeper at McInnes Island Lightstation, but had received orders for a change of station. Check out these aerial views of the island he lived on. (photos #1 & #2)
Yeah, you just thought moving was a pain. Glenn provided me with a little photo-essay to show us what he went through, and I decided to share it with you. The thoughts and sentiments are his, and the photos illustrate the story well. Continue reading You Just Thought Moving Was a Pain!→
For years the lighthouse has been a religious symbol, a beacon, guiding ships and/or people in the right direction. I accidently came across this song on Youtube called The Lighthouse sung by another group called The Happy Goodmans, but I liked the Elvis Presley version better. It is definitely not Rock and Roll but along the lines of his famous rendition of In the Ghetto, which is one of my favourites.
There’s a Lighthouse on the hillside That over looks life’s sea When I’m tossed it sends out a light That I might see And the light that shines in darkness now Will safely lead us o’er If it wasn’t for the Lighthouse My ship would be no more
Chorus: And I thank God for the Lighthouse I owe my life to Him For Jesus is the Lighthouse And from the rocks of sin He has shown a light around me That I could clearly see If it wasn’t for the Lighthouse (tell me) Where would this ship be?
Everybody that lives about us Says tear that Lighthouse down The big ships don’t sail this way anymore There’s no use of it standing round Then my mind goes back to that stormy night When just in time I saw the light Yes, the light from that old Lighthouse That stands up there on the hill
Repeat Chorus (x2)
If it wasn’t for the Lighthouse (tell me) Where would this ship be? [/spoiler]
I am posting this now because I again accidently stumbled upon this page: God’s lighthouse will help navigate our lives. Now, I am not very religiously inclined, but this text explains the song and the reason for the song better than I could:
God has a lighthouse that overlooks life’s sea. Some these days are lobbying to tear it down, especially the so-called politically correct.
They argue that the big ships of life’s important issues don’t sail that way anymore, and so it only serves to cause an offence and its position could be better occupied with other more important, useful and popular services.
Then my mind goes back to a stormy night, when just in time I observed its beams piercing through the darkness and I ask myself the question: If it hadn’t been for that lighthouse where would my ship be today?
I speak for many when I say, as the songwriter puts it: “I thank God for the lighthouse,” and “that we owe our life to Him, because you see Jesus is God’s lighthouse and He is still saving lives from the rocks of sin”.
Jesus said: “I am the light of the world.”
Unlike certain previous generations, we often obscure God’s lighthouse from our children’s view and wonder why they are breaking up on the rocks of crime and vice at an ever-alarming rate.
This lighthouse was not erected by the hands of men but by Almighty God Himself 2,000 years ago, not to be hid, but to serve as a guiding light enabling us to navigate through life’s journey.
God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son Jesus who, on our behalf, took the punishment for our sin on the cross at Calvary preventing us from perishing in order that we may also receive everlasting life. So many around the world today can truly say that if it hadn’t been for that old lighthouse their ship would no longer be sailing life’s ocean today.
Thank God for the lighthouse shining as bright as ever. – this is Cornwall
From the theme of the text, it seems that some people are trying to tear down a lot of lighthouses, be they be spiritual or material. I for one am against tearing down both. They both are guiding lights for some people. Mind you, not all people believe in God or sail the seas, but for those that do, a lighthouse is a comfort.
The calm behind the lighthouse - photo G. Borgens
I know a lot of people thought the lighthouse that I tended at McInnes Island was a godsend when they had battled the stormy Northwest seas, and I mean this realistically, because when they came behind the lighthouse at McInnes Island they were in calm waters and felt safe.
So, enjoy the song, and if you wish to listen to different versions, then please check out the singers below – all available from Youtube.
Originally published in the January/February 2007 issue of Legion Magazine
We hadn’t expected gourmet Hungarian goulash served up on Royal Doulton china. But at the Cape Scott light station on the remote northwestern tip of Vancouver Island–a place that is normally engulfed in wet grey and storms–today is an exception. The sky is azure, there’s not a puff of wind, and Principal Keeper Harvey Humchitt and his partner Assistant Keeper Todd Maliszewski have house guests.
After sweating through 24 kilometres of squishy rain forest trails we’re no match for the fine linens and silver flatware spread impeccably before us on the dining table. The trek through the forest is the only way to get here without a boat or helicopter. After a couple of greeting barks from their dog Lady, Humchitt welcomes us to Cape Scott. Continue reading The Lightkeepers by Graham Chandler→
Originally I had this article titled as Lighthouse Time referring to the time we were required to be at work on the station. Lighthouse Time-Keeping (leading up to automation) is a better phrase as it reflects punching the clock, etc. which we did not actually have do on a lighthouse. Someone was always there. You never left a lighthouse alone.
On the lighthouse we worked to get the job done. When it was done we could relax. We were on watch all the time.
In the early days (1800s – 1950s) the lighthouse was a one family station and if an assistant was required for heavy work then it was up to the keeper to hire a person from the local community using his own wages to pay the person. The keepers hours of duty were long and hard and were broken only when the wife was free to help out. Two man and/or family stations were only on very isolated stations with keepers on duty approximately twelve hour shifts but usually longer. Actually, at that time, no shifts were set down on paper – the station had to be manned no matter what.
In the 1950s to 1970s the stations with more duties, equipment, or isolation had an extra man so there were one-, two- and three-man stations. These people were on duty at differing hours. A one-man station required the keeper to sometimes sleep in the engine/fog alarm room when heavy fog was prevalent for days on end. In the mid 1960s the two-man stations had a shift time of twelve hours each man and three-man stations eight hours each. The early 1970s saw some automated equipment installed and most three-man stations reduced to two-man and a susequent increase in the number of hours on duty without an increase in pay.
Late 1970s brought more talk of automation, more equipment, especially station monitoring equipment for automation, but no increase in the keeper’s pay. In fact the first closing of some stations was started, automation equipment was put in place and keepers were ignored.
Finally by the mid 1980s a job description was given to the lighthouse keepers and this would be what their wages were based on – more duties, more pay.
Keepers were requested to submit a list of the duties they performed and the time involved. But only Coast Guard related work was to be on the list. All the extra work the lightkeeper did was not recorded – jobs such as weather reporting, sea water samples, search and rescue, bird and animal surveys, pollution watch, radio watch, etc. This, according to the Coast Guard was not the job of a lighthouse keeper.
Again in the mid 1980s, automation in Ottawa computers and on the lights designated that we had to have hours of work laid down. Up to that time we were paid a yearly wage divided by the number of government paydays in a year (52). This gave us our bi-monthly wage. Divided by the number of hours we were on duty (for seven days a week you must remember), this worked out to very much less than the minimum wage at the time. Finally the government worked out that we would all have an eight hour shift each, during daylight hours and they worked it out this way:
As you can see the by the first table the shifts were 8 hours long in two periods as we were supposed to ignore the station during our one hour break at lunch and breakfast and supper.
The second table shows that weather reports did not fit into this shift pattern at lunchtime.
The third table shows the extra quarter hour (or half hour, depending on the intensity of weather) we used to make the observations and record all afterwards. The result was a normal nine- to ten-hour day but we were only listed as working eight.
What the government did not include was overtime! We had an eight hour shift to work. Finished! They did not consider the times when we were phone in the night for weather reports, where one had to dress, go outside, read the barograph and write-up the weather; or the nights where we baby-sat a boat in distress because Coast Guard radio was tied up with so many incidents because of bad weather; or the nights the engines shut down because of bad fuel delivered to us; or the time the main light blew out twice in a row; or the time the battery went dead on their automatic engines and shut down the station (the battery controlled the control panel) – I can list hundreds of times we worked through the nights, but all on an eight hour shift!
Pay Stub
You will notice on the pay stub (left) the highlighted number 56 under “Hours of Work”. This is eight hours a day for seven days (8 hours X 7 days = 56 hours). You can also see by the shift chart that daylight hours (which were imposed to stop us collecting shift differential1) were an impossibility unless you were working in the summer above the Arctic Circle!
But, there was a good side. We worked as we wished. No office supervisor and no daily logging in and out. We could work twelve hours here and then go fishing for four hours, always mindful of the radio, the weather, engines, fog, and the light. We could work a morning shift and spend the next eight hours unloading a supply ship (no overtime) and then hit the sack. Next day we could take it easy! Only the weather reports at 3AM , 6AM, 9AM, Noon, etc.
But then the Coast Guard decided that we had to report exactly what we were doing! They issued us with log books and a new set of rules and we were supposed to log everything we did during our shift!
Well we filled the books with every little detail we performed. Contrary to our job description we included all the local, marine, synoptic, special and extra weathers. All the radio contacts, all the ship contacts, all the jobs done and listed every minute of the shift. We filled reams of books and sent them into the office every month. It didn’t help us, didn’t help them, but gave us an extra entry in the logbook “0900-0910 Filling out logbook”!
Present day (November 2006) the Coast Guard removed most of the foghorns (no monitoring), lowered or changed the intensity of the lights, removed range lights, removed radio beacons and their towers, removed weather equipment such as barometers, wind recorders, etc., and removed from the lightkeepers duties most weather reporting details so that they have become glorified groundskeepers.
But rest assured, as long as the government lets them remain on duty, they will come to your assistance with a radioed weather report, a can of gas or a friendly hello. God Bless all lighthousekeepers!
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FOOTNOTES:
1Shift Differential – Additional pay for work regularly performed outside normal daytime hours, usually defined as before &AM and after 6PM.
Crates awaiting lowering to the ship - photo Glenn Borgens
One of the problems with moving to another lighthouse was that everything had to be crated and or well-packed to withstand the dangers of the transportation and handling by ship and/or helicopter. It also had to survive unexpected falls and/or water damage, both fresh and salt.
When my wife Karen and I first moved on the lighthouses we had no material for crating so we had to get professionals from a moving company to do the work for us. They did a very good job but were very expensive.
When we got the bill we did not have the money to pay for it, so we told the man we would leave half the furnishings there in the warehouse and get them shipped out next month when we got paid. He was having nothing of that and eventually dropped the price to something we could afford. Continue reading Moving Day 1970s→
McInnes with weather instruments (lower half) – photo John Coldwell
One of the duties on most of the lighthouse stations, and especially on McInnes Island, up to 2003, was the reporting of local weather (weather visible in the immediate area of the station) to Environment Canada (EC) – earlier called the Atmospheric Environment Service (AES) – for re-broadcast to boaters, pilots and climatologists.
Extreme Tendency November 05, 1988 – scan Glenn Borgens
Every three hours during the day, starting at around three o’clock in the morning we would collect the information on sky condition, visibilty, wind speed and direction, rain/snowfall, wet and dry bulb temperatures plus maximum and minimum temperatures, station pressure and tendency (whether pressure was rising or falling and how rapidly), and sea and swell height. This was then recorded on AES forms or in a notebook depending on the station. Not all stations reported or had the instruments for all observations. These records were forwarded to AES every month along with a Climate Summary for the month. Continue reading Weather Observing – a Large Part of the Job→