Watchers of the Waterway.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLV, Issue 17, 26 April 1911, Page 34

Watchers of the Waterway.

HOW A LIGHT KEEPER WORKS. They lead a lonely life, these watchers of the waterway, the men who keep those lights which warn the anxious mariner of the presence of hidden dangers, mark for him his course, and enable him to bring his ship into port through the black darkness of the night as easily as through the light of day. Lonely, but neither monotonous nor

idle, for the guardians of the deep, shut off though they may be from all but very occasional commune with their fellowmen, have much to keep both mind and body- in a state of healthy activity. At the outer door of Auckland’s port stands Tiri light; one can see its gleaming spark by night from many of the city’s highlands, and by day can pick up the form of its tower. But though the island lies so close at hand, comparatively few of the dwellers in the city have landed upon its shores and become acquainted with the life and doings of those whose work is of such vast moment in keeping open the seaways along which its commerce travels. The keepers on Tiri do not find time press heavily on their hands. There is

plenty for them to do night and day, and very little time for relaxation. The keepers, of whom there are two, take turn about for day work, and the night watches alternate in spells of four hours each. The keeper on day duty has to see first of all to the cleaning of the lamp, the lens of which is the most important detail, requiring very careful attention. Then he is expected to keep everything about the lighthouse bright and clean, keep the roadway running down to the landing stage in repair, ami telegraph the incoming of vessels to the city by telegraph. In the afternoon he has some leisure time, but it is more of less fully occupied until sunset, when the lamp is lit, and the first night watch begins. The men watch over the lamp till daybreak, relieving one another every four hours. Their first duty is to see that the lamp is burning brightly, and they are also expected to report incoming vessels, but the light is first consideration. On a bright night the fixed white light is visible 20 miles out at sea, and it is about that distance that boats can be picked up in a clear day. The fuel for the lamp is drawn up from the landing stage by horse tramway, and the lamp fills automatically, being of the pressure lamp type. The head light-keeper at Tiri is Mr. J. F. Raynor, one of the oldest and most

experienced men in the service, and his assistant is Mr. Creamer, an Aucklander, who, but lately, joined the service. The two families are comfortably housed, and 40 acres of the island are placed at their disposal for cultivation purposes; the remainder, between 700 and 800 acres, is leased to Mr. Hobbs, of Whangaparaoa, as a sheep grazing run. The keepers have their own kitchen gardens, and also a couple of cows, and are thus able to supply many of their own wants. There are not sufficient children on the island to warrant an instructor being stationed there, so the little ones are sent to the city for schooling. A Northern Co’s, steamer calls at the island every fortnight, and the Government steamer, Hinemoa, makes four visits during the year. Tiri is classified as a first-class lighthouse, which means that the conditions obtaining there are not so trying as at many other lighthouses.

Speaking of the life the keepers lead a veteran mariner, who has spent many years in different lighthouses, informed our representative that, while it was an isolated life it was far from being uncongenial. The men have plenty of work to do and a paternal Government provides them with ample means to wile away the leisure hours. But the latter are few; the keeper of the light leads a busy life. All the lighthouses have well stocked libraries, and there is always a workshop, where the men may pl}' any handicraft. Reading and carpentering fill up a deal of their spare time, but where there is a piano or gramaphone they often assemble together of an afternoon for musical entertainment. Such gatherings are impossible in the mornings and evenings, as then the men are on duty. There is little difference between life at Tiri and any other lighthouse, for the simple reason that the men have plenty

to do in their working hours, and their leisure time is short. Mokohinau and Cuvier, the outposts of the Hauraki Gulf, are more isolated than Tiri. but (says our informant) the men scarcely notice it. At Mokohinau sometimes a boat is not seen for three or four weeks, but the work there is sufficient to keep the men from dwelling on their loneliness. The women folk no doubt find it a bit

slow on these outposts, but their daily occupations fully engross their attention, and they seem contented enough. Kvery twelve months the k> epers ami tueir families are taken away from the stations for a holiday, and they are changed about every three or four vents. Tue_can live cheaply and save a great deal more than in the cities, ami as a rule retire with a fair competence. No skill is

required to become efficient at the work, which can be mastered in a day «r two, and in view of this fact, the men are very well paid. Morse lamps have now been installed in the lighthouses, and the keepers are now able to flash danger signals, and will no doubt soon be able to converse freely with passing steamers, practically all of which have now a similar equipment. It is an ideal life, and nearly all who retire from it in advancing years have sufficient to live on for the remainder of their days.