Hey there, morning! (At least it’s morning here.) I’ve spent two months pondering what my first-ever Medium post should be, and I thought of sharing tales of lighthouses.
Now, you might be wondering… what exactly is a lighthouse? (I wondered too, don’t worry.) Well, they’re these super-tall towers (in various shapes, mind you) standing on rocky shores, offshore or on land, warning ships to steer clear of danger. Just imagine being lost at sea and suddenly spotting this ample glowing light — it’s like a warning sign saying, “Hey, don’t come too close. It’s rocky around here!” Lighthouses are crucial for sailors, cautioning them of dangerous spots and urging them to stay safe.
Now, I know it might seem a bit random to talk about lighthouses all of a sudden, but you know me (or maybe you don’t), as a psychology student, OF COURSE, I’m going to approach it from a psychological perspective. So hold on tight because things are about to get more exciting and maybe even a bit spooky!
So, let’s delve into the past. Building a lighthouse was a big deal back then. Take Point Fermin Lighthouse, for example. It was erected in 1874 by this guy, Phineas Banning, who wanted to ensure ships could safely sail into Los Angeles Harbor. And then there were these two amazing sisters, Mary and Ella Smith, who rocked as the first keepers of Point Furman. They were breaking stereotypes before it was even cool! But let me tell you, being a lighthouse keeper wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. It had its spooky side too. Some people say they’re haunted, with stories of ghostly keepers wandering around.
Life as a lighthouse keeper wasn’t easy. They had to wake up super early, do chores, and make sure everything was running smoothly. Plus, they had to watch out for dangerous stuff, like slippery paths and stuff breaking down.
Now, let’s talk about Fresnel lenses — the significant innovation of the 19th century for lighthouses. These lenses, developed by French physicist Augustin-Jean Fresnel, boosted the intensity and range of the lighthouse beacon. They were crucial for keeping ships safe. The lenses needed to rotate at specific speeds, and the best way to achieve this was by floating them on a circular track of liquid mercury. Here’s the thing: the keepers had to strain the mercury regularly to keep it clean, exposing themselves to its toxic fumes.
Back then, lighthouse keepers didn’t know how dangerous it was. They weren’t wearing protective gear, so they were breathing in poison while they worked. It’s like the old saying goes — mad as a hatter. Just like hat makers in the 18th and 19th centuries who were exposed to mercury, lighthouse keepers were being slowly poisoned by their workplaces.
There’s even evidence suggesting that some keepers’ erratic behavior and mental health struggles could be attributed to mercury poisoning. Take William Brown, for example. He was committed to an asylum after sending a bizarre telegram and displaying violent behavior. Sadly, these keepers were silently suffering, not realizing their danger. Imagine going mad because of the job itself, not just the isolation.
You know, spending all that time in isolation, facing the wild sea day in and day out, could mess with a person’s mind. Imagine feeling so cut off from the world, with only the sound of crashing waves and the creaking of the lighthouse to keep you company. No wonder some keepers reported seeing strange things or feeling like they were being watched.
But despite all the challenges, lighthouse keepers were like these unsung heroes. So, next time you see a lighthouse, give it a little nod and thank the keepers who kept the light shining bright, guiding ships to safety through the stormy seas.
