Sentinels along our coast

Front matter

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Contents

CHAPTER

I Harbor Protection

II Early Lighthouses .

Chapter I

WE found the mouth of that land to have many should barres before it, for we had but ten feet of water."

So wrote Henry Hudson in the log of the Half Moon, on first entering New York Harbor in 1609. And the discoverer of these waters complained that he was obliged to work his way in very cautiously, by sending boats ahead of his diminutive craft to take soundings. The Half Moon had the draft of a modern tugboat.

To-day radio signals from America may be picked up at any hour of the Atlantic crossing. Every approach to the "mouth of that land" is guarded by light-ships, which greet incoming traffic two hundred miles out, with their warning lights, radio signals, fog-horns and submarine bells. The welcoming flash of the hyper-radiant light at Navesink is often visible fifty miles at sea.

Far outside the harbor entrance the radio compass gives minute directions for steering which are unaffected by the thickest fogs. Further in, the submarine bells enable the navigator to check his course through the various channels. Once at the entrance to the harbor, continuous rows of lighted buoys with lighthouses and other aides to navigation form the "Great White Way" of the harbor, guiding inbound ships in safety to Quarantine.

Were all these modern .aids to navigation suddenly removed, New York Harbor would be no less difficult to enter to-day than in the time of Henry Hudson. The "mouth of that land," despite its great width, is still beset with "should bar res" and other dangers. The increase in the size of vessels in three centuries complicates the problem. The great channels, which have been opened with so much labor and expense, would be useless without the constant vigilance of the lighthouse service.

A vessel entering New York Harbor to-day may take advantage of virtually every aid known to navigation. The story of the safeguarding of this harbor, which is typical of all great American ports, is essentially the history of the modern lighthouse service. New York's harbor is protected by more than four hundred aids to navigation.

Every conceivable signal and safeguard for protecting shipping will be found here in actual operation. No other harbor in the world approaches it in the completeness of its protection. It has been a great laboratory for experiment in producing countless devices for safeguarding navigation, and its activity to-day is greater than ever. Many well-known countries have a far less varied equipment.

The first sign-post of this elaborate system of protection is the Nantucket Lightship two hundred miles east of New York. She stands guard before a great area of shoals, which in years past have reaped a frightful harvest of wrecks. It is one of the most exposed positions in the world. The nearest land is forty-one miles away.

A wreck once occurred near by, and the light-ship picked up the crew, but two weeks passed before she could get them ashore. The light-vessel rides in thirty fathoms of water, making it possible for ships to lay their course directly for her, which greatly simplifies their problems of navigation. She stands upon one of the busiest ocean lanes in the world, and vessels in passing often graze her sides. From this vantage-point the light-ship extends its protection many miles in all directions.

One of the largest light-ships in the world has been chosen for this post, and her equipment includes every signal device known to the modern science of navigation. The Nantucket measured 130 feet in length, with a beam of thirty-five feet, although in the lonely waste of the Atlantic she appears singularly small.

The Nantucket displays a white light at her masthead. She is equipped with an elaborate radio service both for sending and receiving messages. She receives regularly from shore the official government storm warning signals and displays them from her masthead, and flashes them by radio for many miles. In addition to her powerful light and radio signals, the Nantucket is equipped with a submarine bell signal device. It strikes the signal "66," which may be read by steamers far at sea. A lightship has stood guard at this point continuously since 1857.

The beautiful old sea cry, "Land ho!" has lost its significance. It has been anticipated by radio signals hundreds of miles offshore.. For the incoming vessels the first shore light picked up will probably be that of Block Island beyond the eastern capes of Long Island. The picturesque old tower at Montauk Point, where Long Island begins, comes next. The ocean lane now skirts the Long Island shore for a hundred miles. Here ships are guided by the powerful lights at Shinnecock, seventy miles east of New York, and again by the famous Fire Island signal.. The first actual glimpse of land will probably be some large building on the low shores not far from New York.

A continuous line of beacons has been placed along the Long Island shore-line on the run to New York, so that a vessel inward or outward bound is never out of range of one or more of them. Before a vessel has dropped one light astern, it has picked up the next signal. If the effective radius of each of these lights be marked with a circle drawn from the various lighthouses, it will be found that these circles overlap continuously for hundreds of miles. The range of the lights is, of course, greatly reduced in foggy weather or storms.

All the way down the coast incoming vessels have probably been in communication with the Fire Island Light-ship, which stands thirty-four miles off the harbor entrance. From this station the radio compass enables navigators to lay their courses within less than one degree., The floating station has besides its complement of lights, bells and fog-horns, and radio sending and receiving apparatus. No light-ship occupied this post until 1896, when the steamship St. Paul, deceived by the fog, made a wrong turn and went ashore hard and fast on the low sandy beach of Fire Island. The light-ship was thereupon anchored here to make assurance doubly sure.

After passing the Fire Island the flash of the great beacon at the highland of the Navesink will soon be picked up. It is visible for twenty-six and one quarter miles, although the reflection of the light in the sky may often be seen for more than twice this distance. Two more light-ships, each carrying every possible equipment, stand guard near the entrance to the harbor; the Ambrose Channel and the Scotland Light-ships.

The radio equipment aboard the Ambrose Light-ship makes it possible to lay a course for the harbor entrance from a hundred miles or more at sea. A similar signal is sent out from the lighthouse at Sea Girt on the New Jersey coast. With the aid of these three radio directions a course may be laid with mathematical accuracy. In a recent test a ship was guided in toward the Ambrose Light-ship from a point forty miles at sea, and, running "blindfolded," found herself on a course which would have struck the light-vessel amidships.

With so many guiding signals, the incoming vessel is completely safeguarded at every turn. Every wreck in or about New York in the past has taught a lesson, revealing some special danger, which has been quickly protected. Whether a vessel approaches New York from either the north or south, or directly from the open sea, it comes within range of these guiding signals when many miles out. In thick weather, it will be seen, special apparatus gives sufficient warning and directs the vessel's course.

The next step is to pick up the entrance to Ambrose Channel itself. It is a fairly broad target with a width of fifteen hundred feet. At the entrance to the channel, and just at the center, stands a great light and whistling buoy, which enables the navigator to lay his course directly. This is the largest buoy in the service, and its great bulk renders it very conspicuous by day, while its red light shines far out over the waters at night. In thick weather its automatic fog-signal supplements the light.

Having reached the entrance to Ambrose Channel, the approach to the upper harbor is clear sailing. By day or night the great pathway, more than one fourth of a mile in width, extends invitingly. Many streets are less brilliantly illuminated. The boundaries of the channel are marked by long lines of buoys, which are clearly visible for a considerable distance. At night the buoys flash red and white lights. Should the fog conceal the lights their position may still be located by their bells and fog-horns. These various signals are arranged in an international code, so that a foreigner entering port for the first time, without knowing a word of English, would nevertheless be guided safely past every danger.

As an additional safeguard two powerful range-lights are placed dead ahead. The first of these, the West Bank Light, is thrown from a lighthouse standing far out from land. The second is the Richmond or Staten Island Light on Staten Island. These lights are so placed that when they are sighted in line, one being above the other, the vessels, in steering for them, will pass straight up the channel.

These range-lights carry the incoming

ii vessel to the first turn or the elbow of the Ambrose Channel. The turn is conspicuously marked on either side by large gas-buoys, displaying flashing lights, which are known as the "knuckles" of the turn. The second turn of the channel is indicated by similar lights. The sides of the channel are also picked out by bright red and white lights thrown out from large buoys.

Once past this second turn, the navigator picks up two other range-lights. These are observed over the stern. The vessel runs away from them. Both lights are located on Sandy Hook, one known as the North Hook Light and the second as the Sandy Hook Light.

By keeping these lights in range, one above the other, the vessel may be guided directly through the upper reach of the Ambrose Channel. As an additional precaution a light has been placed on the Craven Shoals. These are the last points of danger in the lower harbor. Once past them, and guided by the range-lights and the channel buoys, the vessel proceeds straight on her course through the Narrows into the shelter of Quarantine.

There are at present six navigable channels entering New York Harbor. Here is a choice to satisfy the convenience of every craft. Each of these channels is clearly buoyed, while various range-lights enable ships to lay their courses independently of the buoys. The shallow portions of the harbor are also buoyed with great care, both below .and above the Narrows.

In the upper harbor the crowded lights along the shores on either hand quickly grow more numerous. The most conspicuous light in this section is that of the Statue of Liberty on Bedloe's Island. The upraised arm of the goddess holds a light far above the water. The statue meanwhile is brilliantly illuminated by batteries of search-lights directed toward her, which make her quite the most conspicuous object in the harbor.

At the journey's end, after the vessels have passed in through the Narrows and satisfied the inquisitive inspectors at Quarantine, they come under the surveillance of an alert harbor patrol, which is not the least important of the aids to navigation of New York Harbor. A large proportion of the incoming ships, other than the regular passenger liners, cannot find docking space, and are obliged to anchor in various positions in the harbor.

At certain seasons there are hundreds of such ships, many of them great liners of ten thousand tons or more burden. The great channels leading up to New York and through the rivers on either side must of course be kept clear. A fleet of speedy patrol boats is used to patrol the long water-line day and night to regulate this traffic.

The harbor traffic squad must solve a complicated problem. It is not enough to warn ships off a certain course, or order them to stop or start, as the policeman on a crowded street controls a line of vehicles. Certain fixed areas are set aside throughout the harbor as anchorages. The channels, definitely marked on the harbor maps, must not be encroached upon by a single foot.

A large vessel at anchor, however, when swept about by the tides, occupies a great circle, whose diameter is equal to twice the length of the ship plus about twice the length of the anchor chain. If the vessels' swing is underestimated, they may collide with disastrous results, or they may swing into the channel to be run down by passing craft.

Each vessel is assigned a definite anchorage, which is determined by taking observations on shore. These anchorages are many miles in length and are frequently crowded. The vessels congregate here from every maritime country, and difference in languages often complicates the situation. The regulation of traffic may have to be carried on by sign language. A severe system of penalties follows any violation of the harbor's traffic laws, for the slightest infringement in so crowded a harbor may mean loss of life and will certainly mean loss of property. Special anchorages are set aside for vessels carrying explosives, and their passage through the harbor must be carefully guarded.

The efficiency of the harbor's traffic squad is severely tested when the naval fleets visit New York, thus adding perhaps hundreds of craft to the fleet already at anchor. One

IS of these fleets consisted of 272 war craft of various types, from the largest superdreadnoughts to the destroyers. Although the harbor was crowded at the time with merchant ships, anchorages were found for the naval fleet ships, and their passage through the various channels on either side of New York City was so carefully regulated that the visit was made and the fleet departed without the slightest mishap.

Could Henry Hudson return in the Half Moon to-day to the "mouth of that land" he discovered, he could find no reason to complain of the difficulties of the harbor.

Chapter II

LIGHTHOUSES of some sort are as old as ships. Before the oldest books of the Bible were written lights were kindled to warn ships at sea. Noah on his famous voyage may have sighted these aids of navigation if he chanced upon any regular ship courses. Lighthouses are mentioned by Homer and the earliest writers. Many ancient legends, handed down from still earlier times, preserve their romantic history- The first beacons were probably great bonfires, lighted by primitive tribes early in history, to guide homeward the fleets of canoes which had gone to sea to fish or to battle.: As civilization developed it was found that without lighthouses navigation was impossible. The risk of wrecks on dangerous and unfriendly coasts was too great. Countless ships must have been destroyed and innumerable lives lost before this obvious fact was realized, and centuries more must have passed before men devised warning lights which served their purpose.

The ancients built many remarkable lighthouses whose names are still household words. Two of them at least, the Colossus of Rhodes and the Pharos, were among the seven wonders of the ancient world — certainly a large proportion of the famous seven. They were colossal things, which are not even approached in size in modern times, and they were built to stand for centuries, although they were of very little service to ships at sea. The lights were very primitive and would have been outshone by the simplest modern beacon.

The earliest lighthouses of which we have any definite record were those built in lower Egypt about the entrance to the Nile. These were raised many centuries before Christ, and helped to guide great fleets of ships which are now forgotten. Only the other day models of some of the ancient Nile boats were discovered in an Egyptian tomb, which show us that shipping so many centuries ago was not unlike our own.

The rigging of these ancient vessels appears shipshape even judged by modern standards. The passenger boats on the Nile incidentally offered many conveniences, even luxuries, of travel. In these ancient models we find bedsteads with chairs placed conveniently at the foot. The ship's steward stands near by awaiting orders. An interesting modern touch is the traveler's trunk, which evidently had been made to fit snugly under the bunk or bed.

We call them steamer trunks to-day, but they were used by Egyptian travelers at least four thousand years before the uses of steam were discovered. The most luxurious of the Nile boats even carried orchestras, in which the harp was conspicuous, to while away the time. With commerce developed to such a point, it was natural that great attention should be paid to building lighthouses to safeguard it.

Some details are preserved of a great lighthouse in the Hellespont built in the seventh century before Christ. The history of lighthouses is commonly considered to begin, however, with the famous Pharos of Alexandria. It was one of the greatest of the seven wonders of the ancient world and guided countless ships for more than sixteen hundred years. No other lighthouse in history approached it in size or remained so long in service. Great empires rose and ruled the world and fell and were forgotten, while the light of the Pharos burnt on undimmed.

The Pharos was built under Ptolemy II, who reigned from 283 to 247 b.c. Considering its immense size, the building of such a tower within this period was a remarkable engineering feat. It stood on a small island named Pharos at the entrance to the harbor of Alexandria. The position was well chosen, as was proved by the tower's long life of usefulness.

The Pharos was a great massive square tower of masonry, which according to some records rose to a height of 460 feet, while others claimed a height of 600 feet. It is probable that these claims were over-enthusiastic. It seems highly improbable that the ancient engineers could have raised a structure of solid masonry higher than the Washington Monument. It was no doubt, however, a very massive and imposing structure.

The Pharos was a great pyramid; the lower part, built of white marble, was square. Next came an octagonal tower of smaller radius. The third or uppermost part of the tower was circular in form. It was decorated elaborately with many galleries and pillars. According to the description left by Josephus, the light of the Pharos was visible forty miles at sea. The great Navesink Light at the entrance to New York Harbor, when it had a candle-power of 25,000,000 and modern lenses, had exactly this range.

It seems almost ludicrous to our modern ideas that after building such a tower the ancients could find no better light for it than they did. A great bonfire was lighted on its top, which was fed by attendants throughout the night. On perfectly clear still nights, such a light would be visible for miles out at sea, but on such nights the vessels had little need for warnings. In foggy weather the light could scarcely have been seen even at the foot of the great tower. One of our modern acetylene lights which often burn unattended for two years at a time would have been more serviceable.

The great Pharos cost eight hundred silver talents to build, which would be equal to about a million dollars in our own day. An inscription carved on its side, which could be read for many centuries, ran: "King Ptolemy to the "gods, the saviors, for the benefit of sailors." An amusing story is recorded of the Pharos, a monstrous practical joke, which was played successfully for centuries. Satratius of Cnidus cut his own name deeply in the stone above this famous inscription, and filled in the hollow with mortar. In time the mortar wore away so that the famous inscription when read by future generations ran : "Satratius the Cnidian, to the gods, the saviors, for the benefit of sailors."

The Pharos was thrown down by an earthquake in the thirteenth century. Its ruins were visible as late as 1350 a.d. The Pharos gave its name to all lighthouses which followed it, so that such a signal is known in every language to-day as "pharos." The science of lighthouse construction is accordingly "pharology."

The Colossus of Rhodes, which also served as a lighthouse, was another of the seven wonders of the world. The great bronze figure of a man standing astride the harbor entrance was certainly an original design for a lighthouse, and has never since been imitated. There is considerable doubt among historians as to whether the figure actually stood with a leg on either side of the harbor, while fleets of ships passed beneath. The statue was 105 feet in height, so that only very small vessels could have passed through such an entrance; but the picture is an engaging one.

Many details of this extraordinary lighthouse have come down to us. Its thumbs, for instance, were thicker than a man's hand. A winding stair led to the top of the statue, where on very clear days it was possible to see the shores of Egypt. The Colossus was erected in 278 b.c. The light consisted of a mass of burning coals which were held in a "chauffer" in the figure's uplifted hand.

A Roman emperor on visiting Rhodes was so much pleased with the statue that he ordered a bust of himself to be placed on the top of the giant's head, where it must have presented a curious appearance. The Colossus was thrown down by an earthquake in 224 b.c. It was broken off at the knees, and the lower legs continued to stand for manyyears. As late as 684 a.d. the brass remaining from the wreck was sold for $180,000, a prodigious sum for those days, and a caravan of nine hundred camels was required to remove it.

There were lighthouses along the western coast of Europe even before Roman times. When the Phenicians ventured past Gibraltar into the Atlantic, and sailed up the coast of Spain on their way to Britain, they built lighthouses on the prominent headlands. The oldest lighthouse in the western world stands a few miles north of Cape Finisterre. It is supposed to have been built by the Phenicians, although some believe it was built by the Emperor Trajan. The tower was rebuilt and still stands. It has therefore been burning for considerably more than two thousand years and may surpass even the record of the original Pharos.

Later Rome built countless lighthouses to safeguard the coasts of her great empire. The power of Rome, which came to be felt all over the world, was largely dependent upon her war fleets and commercial vessels, which could not venture far without lighthouses. As early as fifty years a.d. the Emperor Claudius built the famous tower of Ostia. Other famous Roman lighthouses stood at Ravenna and Messina. After light ; " o the waters of the Mediterranean they built lighthouses at the Pillars of Hercules at the entrance to the Atlantic, which then guarded the outposts of the known world. #

When the Roman galleys ventured on the Atlantic the fleets were soon followed by lighthouses to guard them. The Roman tower built at Capio is asserted by some Roman historians to have been as large as the famous Egyptian Pharos at Alexandria. The English Channel was guarded by lighthouses in the reign of the Emperor Caligula. A tower was raised at Boulogne, and another across the channel at Dover, which still stands. It is built of Roman brick, the interior being square and the exterior octagonal in form. It was covered with brick in 1259 and a century later was raised to a height of forty feet.

Many European tourists who have crossed the English Channel by the Dover-Calais route stop off to visit this venerable old Roman lighthouse. It looks very small and futile to-day, but we should not forget that it once guarded a busy Roman highway and an immense volume of shipping. A fleet of eight hundred Roman vessels once visited Britain to transport corn to Rome, and this was but a part of its commerce. Many of the ancient Roman towers were enlarged and improved during the middle ages.

The builders of the old lighthouses knew nothing of the modern science of lighthouse building, but they contrived to raise structures in exposed positions which stood for centuries. The earliest wave-swept tower now standing is at the mouth of the Gironde in France. The light has had a remarkable history. Near-by stands a group of rocks which seriously menace shipping. They are beaten upon continually by storms from the Atlantic and form a very treacherous trap. The trade of Bordeaux has suffered from this danger from its earliest days.

The first attempt to light the rocks was made in 805 a.d. A tower was built on a reef in the harbor, where four men kept a fire alight. Each vessel entering the harbor was required to pay a tax to support the lighthouse, which was probably the origin of the modern practice of collecting lighthouse dues.

When the Black Prince brought Gascony under his control he demolished this beacon and built a new tower forty feet in height. A hermit lived on top of the tower to keep the signal-fire burning. A chapel was later built near-by, and a few fishermen built huts. When the hermit died no one offered to take his place and the light was abandoned.

The tower now standing at this position was begun in 1584. A great French architect received a commission to build what is the most elaborate lighthouse ever erected, before or since. It combines a beacon, a church, and a royal residence, certainly a curious assortment of interests. The base of the lighthouse is a great stone platform 134 feet in diameter.

The lower part of the structure was intended to form a breakwater to protect the main buildings from the waves, which continually beat upon it. On the first floor there is a magnificent saloon leading to the royal apartment, with a great entrance-hall decorated with pillars and mural sculpture. Above is a beautiful chapel with a fine high roof. The beacon surmounts the chapel, rising to a height of one hundred feet, which is reached by a spiral staircase.

The building is so well constructed that it still stands in this exposed position. About the year 1800 the original tower was rebuilt on modern lines and the light was raised to a height of 197 feet. A modern light was installed, which is visible for twenty-seven miles. The buildings have now stood for three centuries. Throughout the middle ages, and long after, the builders of lighthouses had only the most primitive knowledge of lighting, but they lavished time and money in building beautiful towers which have never been rivaled.

A lighthouse was built at Genoa three and a half centuries before Columbus set sail for America. It was known as "Torre del Capo" and was rebuilt in 1643. The light is supported by a beautiful tower rising 236 feet above the cliff on which it stands, the light being 384 feet above sea-level. It was not until 1841 that modern lenses were installed here.

The development of the lighthouse and its light in later times has been one of the great achievements of modern engineering. The credit for designing a tower which would withstand the onslaught of the waves and winds is due largely to the English and Scotch, while a French scientist was the father of the modern lenses which have revolutionized the system of lighting.

The dramatic story of the famous Eddystone Lights well illustrates the persistence and ingenuity of modern engineers in solving this ancient problem. The Eddystone stands fourteen miles off Plymouth, where it guards the traffic of this harbor. From the earliest days the importance of a light at this point was appreciated, but the work of building a tower in so exposed a position was baffling. When the Pilgrims sailed from Plymouth Harbor in 1620 there was no light on the Eddystone to guide them, although the problem was even then an old one.

The first lighthouse was begun at this point in 1695 and finished three years later. It was polygonal in shape, the base being of stone and the upper part highly ornamented with galleries, which incidentally offered great resistance to the sea stroke. The weakness of the tower was soon recognized, and in the following year the diameter of the tower was increased by adding a ring of solid masonry. The sea made short work of it, however, for it was swept away three years later ; and all those in it, including its builder, were lost.

Despite this tragedy a second lighthouse was begun in 1706 and finished in two years. The tower was cone-shaped and built of heavy oak timbers bolted together. The lower part was filled in with stone to lower the center of gravity. It rose to a height of ninety-two feet. This structure was destroyed by fire.

Another tower was immediately commenced. A new experiment was now tried, and the structure was made entirely of wrought- and cast-iron, the base being left open to offer less resistance. Although its foundations were deeply sunk in the rocks, a storm in 1850 swept it completely away.

The following year a fourth attempt was made. The tower then built was entirely of granite, rising to a height of no feet. A light was first kindled as its top in 1858. In a great storm in the same year a bell weighing five hundred pounds hung in its lantern gallery one hundred feet above high-water mark was carried away by the waves. Many of the stones were also loosened.