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| Cape Agulhas Light |
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
The Last of the South African Lighthouse Keepers 2
by Peter-John Hannabus (P-J) – Retired Lighthouse Keeper
1970s
From the 1800s to
the late 1970s, fifty three manned stations spanned the South African coast, before
automation slowly forced the Lighthouse Keepers out of their cottages and away
from their unique way of life.
The Hannabus
Dynasty entered the Lighthouse Service in the early 1900s and covered eighteen
lighthouses between them, stretching from the east coast at Cape St. Lucia
Lighthouse, Natal, at position 28°31´08´´S., 32°23´50´´E, to the opposite west coast at Diaz Point in Luderitz, Namibia, at 26°38´11´´S,
15°05´37´´E.
Born at Cape
Agulhas Lighthouse, P-J grew up in an environment with characteristics and
influences at play, which attracted him to follow in the footsteps of his father, his uncle and his grandfather.
P-J’s duties,
often as a Relief Lighthouse Keeper, took him from coast-to- coast exposing him
to many different situations. Drawing on these experiences, plus stories handed
down and childhood memories, he provides us with a window into the world of
these men.
One Saturday morning on
February 1st, 1919, Mr. Abbott, a guano foreman and his assistant,
were fishing in a longboat off the island. Around midday a strong sou ‘westerly
wind came up, whipping up the sea. Abbott’s stepdaughter, Frances, worried for
their safety, climbed onto the roof of their cottage and saw the men battling
the wind to get back to shore. Frances
raised the alarm and all three of the Lighthouse Keepers, Hayward, Hughes and
Ward, rushed to their aid in another longboat.
Once
out to sea, a fog enveloped the three Lighthouse Keepers and they were lost to
sight fighting wind and waves. Just before dark, the wives who had no idea how
to operate the Light, together with the children, gathered all the lamps in the
houses and took them up to the lighthouse lantern room to guide the husbands back
and to warn ships on this stormy night! The families took turns to rotate the
lens throughout the night with still no sign of the men. About midday the next
day, the men made it back to shore but alas, without Abbott. He and his
assistant were never found.
In
recognition of the bravery of the Keepers, Harry Claude Lee Cooper, the
esteemed Lighthouse Engineer, awarded the men gold watches and the wives
received crafted handbags!
These are just part of the large band of
lighthouse men and women whose brave deeds prove their commitment to their duties, irrespective of the risks to
their own lives.
Whilst we are still on Bird Island
In 1884 Thesen and Company of Cape
Town purchased their first coastal steamer in Norway and brought her out to the Cape . This was the SS Agnar,
an iron vessel of 427 tons. The Agnar
soon found a place for herself in the trade between Cape
Town , Mossel
Bay Table Bay and Knysna and before long they enjoyed a
virtual monopoly of the steamship traffic to the little port. (Ships and South Africa
From 1920 to 1928 Agnar loaded guano on Bird
Island Transkei Madagascar and Mauritius Port Louis
Monday, June 8, 2015
The Last of the South African Lighthouse Keepers 1
A series by Suzanne-Jo Leff Patterson
A long dynasty of
Lighthouse Keepers stands proud in our South African history. Some families
have had three generations follow one another and here, close to home, from the late 1860s to early 1880s,
Rosemary Dixon-Smith’s own great-grandfather, Thomas Gadsden, was Keeper of the
Bluff Light Durban. In the late 1870s he was promoted to Head Lightkeeper and
alongside him, as Assistant Lighthouse Keeper, was his brother-in-law, D W Bell.
In this series of anecdotes
to preserve the manned history of South African lighthouses, as well as to recognise
and honour our Lighthouse Keepers and those closely associated with lighthouse
life, we hear evocative stories from their ancestral lines and from our few
remaining, active, Lighthouse Keepers.
The Lighthouse
Keepers had to be men of resilience, often supported by their wives, children
and colleagues. Men of strong character with
total commitment to duty, Keepers and their families would face the harsh
realities of loneliness and isolation, danger and wild weather, and on
occasions, experience shipwrecks and the loss of lives.
It is this solidarity and the common purpose of these men and women that
brings to mind the Latin inscription which I read on the etched glass panels
set into the heavy cedar door of Cape Byron Light, New
South Wales , Australia
“Olim periculum nunc salus” - Once perilous, now safe.
Along every
coastline, these men and women have
kept vigil at the numerous lights around the globe. Throughout the world on
stormy nights, with howling tempests, their nocturnal duties have ensured that
those searching beams have swept out
and across the sea, guiding sailors along their coastal courses. Many a captain
would have felt a sense of relief in sighting a light after the deep darkness
and dangers of foul weather.
These lights, with
their engaging, resilient and dependable structures, fully exposed to all the elements,
stand firm against screaming winds and thunderous seas, defying Nature’s wildest
tantrums. Bearing testimony to this durability was the Lighthouse of Alexandria
which, having been built in the 3rd century, stood for nearly 1,500
years. This is the
maritime history that is nearing its end, as the men and women of these South
African lighted towers continue to be replaced by the mechanical automation of
our modern technology. Their stories are
part of each of us and before they are lost, we will record them for posterity.
To be continued.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Friday, June 5, 2015
My lighthousekeeper ancestor
When my great grandfather, Thomas Gadsden, arrived in Natal on the barque
Priscilla in 1863, there was no lighthouse on the Bluff – the wooded promontory
which sheltered the harbour
of Port Natal
Despite numerous shipwrecks in the area, especially during
the settler ship era of the 1850s, and the pleas of the town’s inhabitants, no
beacon had yet been erected as an aid to navigation. Whether Thomas noticed the
lack of a light on the Bluff in the early days of his arrival is not recorded,
and in any case his priority at that stage was to find gainful employment. He
acquired the position of turnkey at the Durban
gaol, probably not a well-paid occupation and certainly without much job
satisfaction. It seems likely that Thomas would look around in the hope of more
suitable employment.
The British colonial government finally overcame its
reluctance to provide a lighthouse for the Port and the foundation stone was
laid on 22 November 1864. However, with various delays impeding progress, it
wasn’t until two years later that the structure was completed in October 1866.
During that time, Thomas had undoubtedly become acquainted with the famous Port
Captain, William Bell, whose daughter Eliza Ann would later be Thomas’s wife,
and there must have been many an unofficial discussion on the topic of the new
lighthouse. Whether Thomas went through
normal bureaucratic government channels, making application for the position of
lightkeeper, with his father-in-law to be putting in a good word for him, or
whether Bell
had more influence in the matter, is uncertain. There’s no question that
Thomas’s future looked much brighter: he would have a reasonable and regular
salary and an extra perquisite in the shape of a keeper’s cottage.
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| Opening of the Bluff Lighthouse 1866 |
As far as we know, Thomas had no experience of
lighthousekeeping, though he may have had some maritime knowledge which would
come in handy. His mother Mary Ann Gadsden had been part-owner of at least one
vessel, the Susan, which is on record as having been involved in a collision
with another ship on a voyage between Liverpool and Waterford , Ireland
At that time, Natal was a
fledgling colony, its population diminished in numbers since a downturn in the
economy during the 1860s had led to some of the settlers of the Byrne years
leaving for fresh pastures in Australia ,
or even returning to England .
The town was still a straggle of unpaved streets and most houses were of wattle
and daub, tough some public buildings, such as the Court House, were of stone.
The Bluff was sparsely populated, densely wooded and
inaccessible other than by boat across from the Point or via a track constructed by Richard Godden for
conveying building materials. Therefore, the lighthousekeeper would not be in
easy reach of such civilization as existed below in the town of Durban . Provisions of all
kinds would have to be brought by boat and then hauled up the steep hill to be
offloaded at the lighthouse. Another serious matter was the lack of fresh
water, which also had to be carried in barrels for the use of the keeper and his
family. Thomas wrote to the authorities in some distress concerning the water
problem. It would not be completely resolved for some time and would have
drastic results for one of Thomas’s children, Phillip, who died in infancy of
typhoid (a water-borne disease rife in the Colony until well into the twentieth
century).
Hunting was good, the Bluff being home to various species of
buck as well as monkeys, birds and other wildlife. The sea was at Thomas’s
doorstep and like most keepers he would have spent some of his spare time
fishing.
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| View of Durban and the Bay from the Bluff, as Thomas Gadsden would have seen it. |
Unfortunately, Thomas left us no written record of his years
as keeper, though gradually a picture has been built up of what his life must
have been like. It was in many ways idyllic, looking out over the beautiful Bay
with its continual stream of shipping, happy with his lovely wife and their
growing children and kept busy with his duties. His brother-in-law, Douglas
Bell, became Assistant Keeper for some years. The keepers worked in shifts and
there was plenty for them both to do, keeping the equipment maintained and
everything shipshape and well-polished. Failure to keep the light burning
throughout each night would result in instant dismissal.
How Eliza Ann adjusted to the somewhat isolated life, near
the town but not of it, is not clear. The shock of losing her eldest child,
Phillip, must have been severe, though infant mortality at the time was
generally high. She had two further sons and two daughters, but like most
mothers never forgot her lost first-born.
We know of his existence only through his baptismal record in the St Paul ’s register. From
the time of Phillip’s death Eliza Ann’s health slowly deteriorated and Thomas,
anxious about her, began to suffer from stress.
The constant night watches took their toll on Thomas's own
health and he made several applications to be removed from his lighthouse
duties and be given other employment.
After an argument with the then Port Captain, Alexander
Airth (William Bell had died in 1869) Thomas was dismissed from his post. He
pleaded to be reinstated, writing that he and his wife and children were
reduced to living in a tent on the Bluff.
His plea went unheard. This disaster took a further toll on
Eliza Ann’s health. Eliza Ann’s widowed mother was in no position to assist the
little family as she had been left in straitened circumstances after Bell ’s death: George Cato, Bell ’s
old friend from Cape sailing days, continued to pay Bell ’s salary to his widow until her own
death.
Records show that Thomas’s position changed to that of
Timekeeper for the Harbour Board and he remained in that post until his death
on 25 October 1893 at the age of 54.
Eliza Ann survived him by seven years. Their eldest son William married, had a daughter and died of enteric at Verulam in 1900 in his early twenties. Of the other siblings Faith and Hope both married, and Sydney Bartle was the only one of Thomas's children to continue the Natal Gadsden line, with the appearance in 1910 of William Bell Gadsden, named for Eliza Ann's father, the Port Captain.
Eliza Ann survived him by seven years. Their eldest son William married, had a daughter and died of enteric at Verulam in 1900 in his early twenties. Of the other siblings Faith and Hope both married, and Sydney Bartle was the only one of Thomas's children to continue the Natal Gadsden line, with the appearance in 1910 of William Bell Gadsden, named for Eliza Ann's father, the Port Captain.
The lighthouse remained as Thomas Gadsden knew it until July
1922, when improved optical apparatus was introduced. Some ten years later came
the installation of electricity, and the iron tower, considered by then to be
unsafe, was encased in concrete. After seventy three years in service, the old
Bluff Light shone for the last time on 15 October 1940 and the following June
the lighthouse was demolished.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Lightkeeper
The Lightkeeper
My task to keep the light
Burning clear throughout the night.
Beyond, the wild unfathomable sea.
Invisible below, even to me,
The jagged reef lies still and dark,
Its prey the unsuspecting barque
Which blindly strays too near.
No sound can reach me here.
Encapsulated in the glass
I watch the lantern's steady pass,
From north to south and back again
The beacon shines through mist and rain.
But in the dark night of my soul
No friendly beam to keep me whole.
My daughter lies across the shore.
Her laughter I will hear no more.
The poem was suggested by a line in a keeper's log:
'This morning I rowed my little daughter's body across to shore for burial.'
My task to keep the light
Burning clear throughout the night.
Beyond, the wild unfathomable sea.
Invisible below, even to me,
The jagged reef lies still and dark,
Its prey the unsuspecting barque
Which blindly strays too near.
No sound can reach me here.
Encapsulated in the glass
I watch the lantern's steady pass,
From north to south and back again
The beacon shines through mist and rain.
But in the dark night of my soul
No friendly beam to keep me whole.
My daughter lies across the shore.
Her laughter I will hear no more.
The poem was suggested by a line in a keeper's log:
'This morning I rowed my little daughter's body across to shore for burial.'
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| The Lighthousekeeper's Daughter by Norman Rockwell |
'Their task to Keep the Light ...' 2
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| Cape Agulhas Lighthouse |
I was delighted to read the article written by Peter-John Hannabus. My father, D M Stewart, was a lighthousekeeper at Cape Agulhas at the time Peter-John was born, and in fact, if I recall correctly, my mother helped with his delivery. The nearest hospital was in Bredasdorp -25 miles of rough gravel road away. In those days (1954), Agulhas was still pretty remote.
At the time, I attended the Rhenish Girls' High School in Stellenbosch as a boarder and came home on holidays every school quarter That in itself was a whole day's travel by train, and then from Bredasdorp station a road trip by grain truck to Agulhas.
My sister was born at Cape Point, and I was born at Cape St Francis, and as children we lived around the coasts of Kommetjie, Dassen Island, Danger Point and Cooper Light on the Bluff in Natal. Our school holidays were quite unique and the envy of our school friends.
While stationed on Dassen Island, we were brought by tug from Cape Town docks to Hout Bay where we anchored and from there, believe it or not, by long boat to the jetty - us still in our navy and white school uniforms and hats, among the food supplies, equipment, spares etc. What wonderful holidays those were. We fished, collected penguin eggs and were never bored for a minute..
As Peter-John so correctly states, it is indeed the end of a great era and how fortunate we were to be part of it.
Helen Pfell
Acknowledgement:
Suzanne Jo-Leff Patterson, researcher
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