Captain's Log 

Fog Horns

The first thing that struck me when I entered the engine room were two huge cylinders that stretched to the ceiling. These hold the compressed air used for the fog horns. The air is delivered through pipes to the actual horns and these are situated nearer the cliffs. The horns are still working. The keepers used to be paid a penny extra per day for the inconvenience of having to put up with the noise, although they were only used when visibility was less than 3 miles. The horns have their own pitch and frequency making them recognisable from neighbouring lighthouses. In the 1950s a radio beacon was added (switched off in 1998) and ships could use triangulation from the radio waves to calculate their location.

I must admit, that I never knew that the horn blast's pitch and frequency were unique to a lighthouse. In a similar way, no neighbouring lighthouse will have the same exterior paint scheme. Also, each lighthouse has a unique sequence of flashes. A display cabinet had a collection of flags. In the early days these could be raised on a flagpole in front of the lighthouse to communicate with the ships. 

The Tower

I made my way to the tower with a determination to climb to the top. When I got to the bottom and looked up at the spiral staircase, it looked a lot higher than it did from the outside. I started making my way up. The steps were okay, but the side rail felt a little low for my liking. Nearer the top, I have to admit, I felt a few pangs of vertigo. The staircase delivered me to a platformed area just below the lighting mechanism. To get up to that area I had to climb much steeper stairs (more like a ladder) with a handrail on either side. Although these were much steeper than the other stairs, the sense of vertigo wasn't as bad since the drop wasn't as great. When my head breached the platform of the upper deck area, I immediately saw some boots; there were 5 other people and a guide up here already. They hunched up a bit and I climbed up to the platform. I then spent an interesting 10 minutes listening to the guide giving his spiel about the lighthouse. 

The Light

The first thing the guide said was that in high winds the tower can sway 8 inches. Really? That seemed quite a lot to me. Maybe he meant 8 mm. He told us about the lenses and how each one was unique with the whole lot put together '...like a jigsaw.' The lighting mechanism weighs 4.5 tonnes. 'How easy do you think it would be to turn it around?' he asked. There were some stroking of chins, shuffling of feet and furtive looking out of the window from his captive audience. He put two fingers on the metal plate holding the mechanism and gave it a slight tug. The whole things started moving around like a perpetual motion machine. Amazing. The whole mechanism is floating on a 1.5 tonne lead base too.

The light can be seen 18.4 miles out at sea. The light is only seaward, and the landward light was diverted, using prisms to a seaward lower red light. If ships could see the red light, then they knew they were in the danger zone. Very cunning. There's obviously a lot more thought gone into lighthouse building than I'd ever imagined. 

There was actually a small platform running on the outside of the tower. The guide pointed out some metal extensions attached up above the platform. 'The keepers would prop their ladders up against those when they cleaned the windows.' I crossed off being a lighthouse keeper for future careers.

The views out of the windows were stunning. I seemed to be able to see the whole coastline between the Tyne and the Wear. 

Oddly enough, the descent down the stair-ladders and the spiral staircase didn't seem half as bad as when going up. Maybe I was just getting used to the heights. 

I'd visited National Trust's Souter Lighthouse, midweek on a wet March day and it was quite busy. I'm sure it would be a lot busier on a weekend summer's day. Deservedly so, though. It is a fascinating place to wander around.