But, the lightkeeper, his assistants and their womenfolk take it all in
stride with cheerful patience.
The mighty lenses are covered up in daytime, but not with “blankets”.
The lightkeeper gives the reason for this: “Every morning we put a
linen covering over the lenses and over that a covering of starched
linen. There is no covering on the north side of the light because the
sun doesn’t hit there.
“The coverings are necessary to protect surrounding property. The
lighthouse lenses, if they were left uncovered, would set afire a
building 25 feet away, or anything else that would burn.”
There have been numerous other lamps before the present electrically
operated one, with its $30,000 French glassworks and four revolving
bullseyes. The original light, established in 1797, was stationary and
burned whale oil in wick lamps, much like the old-fashioned sitting
room lamp. The light has always stood on the present site.
Ashore the great beacon is always referred to as Highland Light. “But,”
remarks the keeper, “if you were lost out there and tried to locate
Highland Light on the chart, you’d be plum out o’ luck. The official
name is Cape Cod Light and that’s the name all the mariners go by.”
Highland Light has cast its flash over many a dramatic event in its
long lifetime. Almost within its shadow, the first piece of wreckage
that revealed the fate of the Steamer Portland--New England’s most
appalling sea tragedy to this day--was washed ashore in the terrible
gale of November, 1898. Countless rescues by the breeches buoy, and
the foundering of old-time sailing ships were witnessed there. Mighty
gales, 75 to 80 miles an hour, have belabored the lighthouse, but it
has breasted them all.