SOME LIGHTHOUSES IN AUSTRALIAN WATERS
Although the waters washing the Australian continent are not so thickly
intersected with steamship lanes, and the mercantile traffic is not
so dense there as in the seas of the Northern Hemisphere, yet, owing
to the activity in emigration from Great Britain, as well as to the
increasing prosperity of the various rising industries under the
Southern Cross, they are becoming more crowded with each succeeding
year. The efficient lighting of the coasts is an inevitable corollary
of this expansion. Lighthouse engineering, however, is unavoidably
expensive, especially when sea-rocks demand indication.
From time to time severe strictures are passed by European shipping
interests upon the apparent lack of coastal lights in Australasian
waters, and the various Government departments concerned with
this responsibility are often accused of parsimony and neglect.
Unfortunately, the greater number of these critics are apt to consider
the situation through European glasses; to take the countries of the
Old World and the United States as a basis for their arguments, and to
ignore local conditions. It has taken a century or more for Europe and
the United States to develop their respective organizations, and in
the majority of instances there are ample funds from which expenses in
this direction may be met, especially when passing shipping is mulcted
a small sum in light-dues for the purpose. When the shipping is heavy,
these levies are certain to represent in the aggregate a large sum
every year.
From time to time New Zealand has been roundly assailed for its
apparent negligence in the extension of its lighthouse system. It
maintains thirty-four lighthouses and beacons, which represent a
capital outlay of over £200,000, or $1,000,000. The total maintenance
charges average about £16,500, or $82,000, per annum, while the dues
collected from shipping for the maintenance of these aids to navigation
approximate £38,000, or $190,000, per annum. The balance is not
amazing, and certainly is not sufficient to warrant heavy expenditure
towards new lights, as the installation of such warnings nowadays is
highly expensive if they are to conform with modern requirements. If
the demands of the critics were met, and a comprehensive scheme, such
as is advised, were taken in hand, the shipowner would have to pay
to meet the deficiency on the revenue account, and this individual
complains that he is overtaxed already.
Those Australian States which possess what may be described as a normal
coastline--that is, one fairly free from solitary rocks rising from the
sea some distance from land--are fortunate, since the sea-rock light is
notoriously costly. On the other hand, lights placed on the mainland,
even of the most powerful type, may be completed for a small outlay,
relatively speaking.
Such a fortunate condition exists in connection with New South Wales.
Here and there off the mainland are small reefs and ridges, but, taken
on the whole, all these danger spots are adequately covered, so that
the State has not been faced with searching problems of a technical
or financial character in this connection. The State boasts only two
“rock” lighthouses, and these obstructions are large enough to be
called “islands.” The one is South Solitary Island, off the coast north
of Sydney; the other is Montague Island, to the south of the port. On
the other hand, the mainland is very well patrolled, some thirty lights
being scattered between Point Danger and Cape Howe, the respective
northern and southern sea-limits of the country.
Although the light-keepers upon the rocks may consider themselves
somewhat isolated, yet their plight is enviable as compared with that
of some of their comrades in other parts of the world. At Montague
Island the three keepers and their families are housed in comfortable
cottages in close proximity to their ward, and they maintain a small
farm, including a horse, goats, well-stocked gardens, and so forth. The
keepers on South Solitary Island used to be able to vary the monotony
of their daily or nightly round by indulgence in exciting sport. This
assumed the form of rabbit trapping and hunting, as the island was
overrun with these animals. One form of game must have become somewhat
nauseating in time upon the menu of the keepers, but this diversion
is now a thing of the past. A mysterious disease appeared among the
rabbits, and its ravages were so devastating that within a short time
Montague Island knew them no more.
The lighthouses of New South Wales deserve distinction in one
direction. As specimens of architecture they are magnificent pieces
of work, so that what the towers lack in romance they make up in
attractiveness. The most imposing is the Macquarie tower, or Sydney
lighthouse, mounting guard over the harbour. The first beacon was
erected upon this site as far back as 1816, thereby rendering it the
first lighthouse in the State, and it was fitted with an oil light,
while one or two of the English lights were still open coal fires. In
1883 it was decided to modernize the lighting apparatus, so that a more
powerful beam might be thrown. Electricity was the illuminant selected,
the machinery for the generation of the requisite current being
designed for installation in the original tower. But three-quarters
of a century’s exposure to the elements had rendered this building
somewhat too weak to carry the requisite heavy lenses and machinery,
so a new tower was projected. The old light was kept going while its
successor sprang up alongside; when the latter was completed, the
oil light in the famous old tower was extinguished for ever and the
building demolished.
The new lighthouse is a fine structure. At the foot of the tower is a
spacious, well-lighted, and artistic one-floor building housing the
electrical machinery as well as the office. The domiciles for the
keepers and the engineers are placed on either side of the spreading
lawn surrounding the station.
[Illustration: THREE STRIKING GUARDIANS OE THE SHORE OF NEW SOUTH WALES.
1. Green Cape Lighthouse. 2. The sentinel of Sugar Loaf Point, or Seal
Rocks. 3. “Bungaree Norah” station, one of the loneliest on the coast.]
The most southerly light upon the New South Wales coastline is that
at Green Cape, a few miles north of Cape Howe. As at the other
stations, three keepers are maintained, being accommodated, with their
families, in roomy cottages; while a small patch of land is turned to
agricultural advantage, cows, horses, etc., being maintained by the
men. The most easterly light on the Australian continent is at Cape
Byron. This light is perched on a dangerous cliff, which drops almost
vertically into the water 371 feet below; but it is within touch of
civilization, a winding road having been cut down the flank of the
promontory on the land side into the neighbouring town of Byron Bay,
so that the tradesmen’s carts are able to make their rounds up the
cliff to satisfy the varied wants of the wardens of the light. One
of the loneliest lights is that on Norah Head--Bungaree Norah it is
called--and this is also the latest light erected by the State, as
it dates from 1903. Although somewhat out of the way, it is not to
be compared with some of the isolated British, Canadian, and United
States lights, being, in fact, no more inaccessible or lonely than most
localities in the Australian Bush.
Sugar-Loaf Point is one of the most serious danger spots along the
shoreline, but is now well guarded with a fine lighthouse planted on
its summit, the welcome rays of which are visible for many miles out to
sea. The light-keepers here had a surprising discovery one morning in
1910. The _Satara_ fouled the point and was wrecked, though fortunately
her passengers were succoured by passing steamers. On this vessel at
the time of the disaster there was a staghound, and although, when the
rescues were effected, search for the animal was made high and low
on the wreck, no signs of it could be seen. It was given up as lost.
Some days later the lighthouse-keepers ventured to the beach below to
have a look round, and to their astonishment a staghound come bounding
towards them, yelping with joy at the sight of a human face. For a dog
to be in such a lonely spot was a strange circumstance, but at last
it was surmised to be the animal which was missed on the _Satara_.
Apparently the animal clung to the crippled craft for some time, and
then, realizing that the ship was abandoned, dived overboard and swam
ashore. It fraternized with the keepers, and for some time kept them
company at the station.
One of the worst wrecks which have happened upon the shores of New
South Wales was that of the steamer _Ly-ce-moon_. By some inexplicable
means the ship got out of her course on a fine Sunday night, and came
to grief off Green Cape. The lighthouse-keepers at once hurried to
the rescue, the hapless passengers, as they were got ashore, being
tended at the station until they were removed to their homes. The
lighthouse-keepers worked tremendously hard, but they were not entirely
successful. Although by herculean effort they brought a large number of
people to safety, there is a small fenced enclosure in the Bush behind
the station where lie the remains of some fifty persons who lost their
lives in the wreck, and whose bodies were washed ashore.
While New South Wales has a comparatively easy length of coastline to
protect, the neighbouring colony of New Zealand, on the other hand, has
a wild, forbidding, and extensive stretch of shore. Up to the present
the Government has concentrated its energies upon the illumination of
the busiest reaches of water, and has planted prominent outposts at
the respective extreme tips of the twin islands. During the financial
year ending March 31, 1912, sixteen wrecks occurred in these seas,
of which six were total losses. The most ill-famed corner appears
to be the large sweeping indentation at the southern end of North
Island, lying between Cape Egmont and Wellington, particularly in the
vicinity of Wanganui, since this stretch of coast claimed five victims.
Cook’s Strait, which is dangerous to navigators, is well protected,
however, the most prominent beacon being that on Stephens Island, its
group-flashes, occurring every thirty seconds, being particularly
powerful, and having a range of thirty-two miles.
[Illustration: THE CAPE BYRON LIGHTHOUSE, NEW SOUTH WALES.]
[Illustration: THE MACQUARIE LIGHTHOUSE, SOUTH HEAD OF SYDNEY HARBOUR,
NEW SOUTH WALES.
The original tower, erected in 1816, was the first lighthouse built in
the State. In 1882 it made way for the present magnificent station.]
The Marine Department maintains thirty-two coastal lights, of which
twenty-two are on the mainland, and ten situate on islands off the
coast. They are of a varied description, ranging from powerful lights
of the first order to beacons dependent upon dissolved acetylene,
stored in cylinders of sufficient capacity to keep the light gleaming
for sixty days continuously. Some of the places in which the warning
lights are placed are exceedingly lonely and inaccessible, so that the
perfection of the unattended light has solved a complex problem, and
has enabled many terrible stretches of forbidding coast to be well
indicated.
[Illustration:
_By permission of the Lighthouse Literature Mission._
PAINTING THE TROUBRIDGE LIGHTHOUSE, SOUTH AUSTRALIA.
Keeping the building in repair is one of the lighthouse-keepers’
duties. This is especially urgent in the case of an iron structure.
This tower is 78 feet high, the light being visible for 15 miles.]
The first tower to be brought into service in New Zealand was that
on Pencarrow Head, to indicate the entrance to the inlet in which
Wellington nestles. It shed its rays for the first time on New Year’s
Day, 1859. It is an iron structure, from the top of which a fixed white
light may be picked up by a vessel twenty-seven miles off the coast.
The iron had to be prepared and shaped in England, as there was no
foundry in the islands at that time capable of executing the work. The
building was shipped to New Zealand in sections and erected. To-day,
owing to the growth of the iron industry, the country can supply all
its own needs in this field without difficulty, but in all cases the
lanterns, mechanism, and lenses, have to be acquired in Europe.
As may be imagined, with such a rugged coastline as New Zealand
possesses, some of the stations are terribly lonely and difficult
of access, owing to the treacherous nature of the waters over which
they mount guard. With the exception of the Brothers light, which
is situated on an exposed rock in Cook’s Strait, three keepers are
maintained at each island lighthouse--one as relief--and at the more
isolated mainland lights. Those of the latter stations which are within
easy reach of civilization have only two keepers. The Brothers light,
which is New Zealand’s most lonely station, has four keepers, three on
the rock at one time, while the fourth is ashore. The spell of service
on the rock is three months, followed by one month’s leave. The wives
and families of the men reside at Wellington. The authorities,
however, do not condemn the light-keeper to one station throughout his
whole term of service. He undergoes frequent transference, so that
all may have a turn at good and bad stations. The duration of the
stay at each light averages about three years, so that there is very
little possibility of these patient, long-suffering stalwarts being
condemned to such a period of loneliness as to provoke taciturnity and
melancholia.
The keeper of the lighthouse light in New Zealand is as well provided
for as his colleague in any other part of the world. When he enters
the service, he is placed on probation as assistant keeper for six
months, at an annual salary of £90, or $450. Emerging from this ordeal
satisfactorily, he finds his salary increased at once to £100, or
$500, per annum, rising by increments of £10 every two years, until
it reaches £130, or $650, per annum. It remains at this figure until
he is promoted to the position of head-keeper, which post brings
an annual wage of £140, or $700, rising by biennial increments of
£10 to a maximum annual remuneration of £180, or $900. In addition
to the foregoing scale, a keeper receives an extra annual station
allowance of £10 in the case of third-class stations, which are those
on lonely rocks and islands, and £5 in the case of stations which are
not isolated or difficult of access. All keepers in the service live
rent-free, and are supplied with coal and oil, together with the free
use of sufficient land, if available, to prepare gardens, as well as
grazing for two or three cows and a few sheep, etc.; while their stores
and provisions are carried without charge by the Government steamer
_Hinemoa_. This vessel is retained solely for attending upon the
lighthouses and buoys, and visits every light, save in exceptionally
rough weather, once in three months.
[Illustration:
_By permission of the Lighthouse Literature Mission._
GREEN POINT LIGHTHOUSE, NATAL.
A well-known South African warning with a range of 23 miles.]
[Illustration: THE PACIFIC OUTPOST OF THE UNITED STATES.
The _San Francisco_ Lightship throws a flashing electric beam of 700
candle-power and is fitted also with the submarine bell.]
At all the isolated and rock stations landing is a hazardous task,
even under the most favourable conditions. The swell and currents
breaking upon the rocks render it impossible for freight and men to be
landed direct from the steamer to the rock. Consequently all the work
has to be carried out by means of surf-boats, and heavy drenchings
from breaking waves, and exciting moments, are unavoidable. At times
the task assumes exceptional difficulty, and is attended with fatal
mishaps. On June 2, 1899, the _Hinemoa_ stood in towards the East
Cape, the most easterly promontory on the islands, on the southern arm
enclosing the Bay of Plenty. The sea looked wicked, but the relieving
ship decided to go ahead with its work. All went well until a heavy
roller suddenly came in and caught one of the boats at a disadvantage.
The craft was capsized before the crew realized their position, and
the chief officer, with three of his men, was drowned. Such is one of
the penalties which have been exacted by the relentless sea, while
courageous men have been engaged in the risky occupation of keeping the
coast lights shining for the guidance of seafarers.
The New Zealand shores have been the scenes of some heartrending
catastrophes. The steamship _Tararua_, of 563 tons register, was making
her way from Dunedin to the Bluff, when she crashed on to the reef
which juts seaward from Waipapapa Point. There was no light to warn
the ship--hence the accident. The vessel, battered by sledge-hammer
seas, broke up very rapidly, and 130 passengers lost their lives. If
the point had been guarded, no accident would have happened. Now a
second-order dioptric flashing light of ten seconds guards the reef,
and may be seen from a distance of thirteen and a half miles. Another
calamity was the loss of the _Huddart Parker_ liner on a danger
spot known as the Three Kings Rock. The fearsome character of this
peril has been recognized for many years past, but, as it is to be
marked by a light suited to the locality, it is hoped that its evil
harvest will come to an end. Yet at the same time it must be pointed
out that the provision of a light does not always prevent a wreck
even in the clearest weather, owing to the weakness of human nature.
This was proved by the steamship _Triumph_, of 1,797 tons register.
She left Auckland on the night of November 29, 1883, picked up the
Tiri-Tiri Island light--this fixed star can be seen from a distance of
twenty-four miles--and yet within two hours of her sailing was wrecked
almost under the lighthouse. In this instance gross negligence was
only too palpable, and the court of inquiry, after its investigation
of the wreck, signified its opinion of the carelessness displayed by
suspending the certificate of the master for three years, and that of
the chief officer for six months.
Apart from Cook’s Strait, the narrow passage between the two islands,
the extreme points of the country are well guarded, the towers for the
most part being located upon the prominent headlands. The southern
extremity of the South Island is a dangerous coast to navigate, since
going east, after the Puysegur Point ten seconds flashing light is
dropped at a distance of nineteen miles from the headland, the vessel’s
course is set to traverse Foveaux Strait, between the mainland and
Stewart Island. In the centre of the neck of water is an ominous
rock, Centre Island, which, however, is well guarded by a first-order
catadioptric fixed light, shining from a wooden tower, the range of
which extends for twenty-two and a half miles, with red arcs marking
the inshore dangers. Overlapping this beacon’s field of patrol is a
light mounted on Dog Island, revolving once in thirty seconds, and
visible for eighteen miles, which in turn meets the Waipapapa light.
Thus the approach to Invercargill is well indicated, and, with the east
coast promontories all protected, the possibility of a repetition of
the _Tararua_ disaster is rendered remote.
On the extreme northern tip of the sister isle, the headland known
as Cape Maria Van Diemen carries a first-order dioptric light,
revolving once a minute, illuminating a circle of sea having a
radius of twenty-four and a half miles. The adjacent headland at the
opposite corner of this spit, North Cape, has not been protected
hitherto; but this deficiency is now being remedied by the erection
of a second-order, incandescent, group-flashing white light, giving
three flashes in quick succession every half-minute. The brilliant
illumination of this part of the coast is imperative, inasmuch as
shipping bound for and from Auckland has to bear round this heavily
indented and rock-strewn coast. The entrance to Auckland harbour in
particular is disconcerting, but the navigator is assisted by the
friendly guardians placed on Cape Brett, Moko Hinou, and Tiri-Tiri,
which have ranges of thirty and a half, twenty-six, and twenty-four
miles, respectively. The task of the mariner, however, is to be further
simplified by the erection of another powerful light on Chicken
Island, in the Hauraki Gulf, which will overlap the Moko Hinou and
Tiri-Tiri lights. When this light and that at North Cape are placed in
commission, the sea between Cape Maria Van Diemen and Auckland will
be very well lighted, and will offer the ship’s master few causes for
complaint. Two other points are being equipped, Castle Point and Cape
Terawhiti, the former with a second-order, incandescent, group-flashing
white light, flashing at intervals of forty-five seconds, with periods
of darkness lasting eight seconds between each group.
While the majority of the New Zealand coastal lights are attended,
certain beacons, from their exposed position, come in the category of
unattended lights, as described elsewhere. These burn acetylene gas,
and are replaced with fresh supplies of dissolved acetylene every
three months by the _Hinemoa_. Simultaneously with the provision of
additional beacons the existing lights are being overhauled and fitted
with modern apparatus, rendering them more reliable, economical, and
of greater power. When the service was established, the Doty burner,
using paraffin-oil, was adopted; but the perfection of the incandescent
oil system, and its many advantages over that in vogue, have influenced
the Government towards its adoption. The transformation will be
completed as soon as practicable, the work being in active progress, as
maintenance expenses are reduced appreciably thereby, because kerosene,
a cheaper oil, is used in lieu of paraffin, while, furthermore, less
oil is burned under the incandescent system.
Before many years have passed, the coasts of New Zealand will be as
adequately protected as is humanly possible by a complete chain of
coastal lights, which is being forged as rapidly as the circumstances
permit. The Government has revised its light-dues in order to meet
the increased expenditure in connection with the lighthouse service.
Vessels arriving from outside the Dominion have to pay oversea
light-dues at the first port of call, and coastal dues at all other
New Zealand ports which they touch; while vessels arriving from the
Chatham, Auckland, Campbell, Antipodes, and Bounty Islands also have to
contribute to the funds.