Quiet Threats

When a storm of stirring magnitude comes a-calling, much is made of the fact – and with good reason. The raging fury of wind, waves and surge can be as awing as it is destructive to the underpinnings of our historic light stations!

Such storms are increasing in frequency and intensity. In their wake, an alarm is being sounded over the need to mitigate storm hazards and weave into the fabric of our lighthouses more resilient ties that bind.

However, passion and commitment can often slack off with an extended duration between riveting weather events. Focus becomes distracted by the pressing demands associated with lighthouse operations and a penchant for stewards to fixate on time-sensitive matters in the here and now.

As I contemplated this dilemma, a question came to mind

Do the storms themselves pose the greatest danger to the well-being of our light stations or is it the systematic loss over time of structural sturdiness caused by the effects of a climate in flux? Which exacts the heavier toll?

The more I observe lighthouses through a long view, the more I believe the answer to this question – at least in the present, is both. In the future, the reality may be that no amount of strengthening will help endangered lighthouse outbuildings without elevating or relocating them.

The critical strength of foundations, sidings, roofs, windows and access points are all supremely tested during severe storm events. Sadly, we are discovering that the essential vitality of light station buildings has been weakened over decades due to a variety of factors.

The same applies to the changing climate itself. Big storms command the headlines, but it’s the subtle, everyday shifts of seemingly little influence that serve as the pillars for disaster.

A good example is the creeping consequences of moon tides and rising sea levels, which have a largely unseen but serious impact on the structural integrity of light station buildings.

I recently witnessed a stark reminder of just how clandestine these adverse effects can be on a day the sun was shining, winds were light and a rugged lighthouse like Rockland Breakwater stood tall amidst a detrimental situation.

The tidal effects of the November 15, 2024 full moon – the last of four consecutive supermoons, were still quite evident three days later at the Rockland Breakwater when I happened to be at the site.

On this day, the flood tide swelled until it exceeded and inundated a great extent of the 7/8 mile-long granite breakwater. The unassuming rise enveloped the lighthouse for a couple of hours, which at first glance, could be deemed more of a spectacle than a threat.

Ironically, while wonderful restoration work was occurring aloft on the slate roof of the 1902 Rockland Breakwater Lighthouse, at its base, the rising waters silently cut the sentinel off from access – and worse yet, were saturating the timber foundation of the boathouse in unobtrusive harm.

Month after month, the changing tidal patterns and rising sea levels are exacting an imperceptible toll on structures like the boathouse at Rockland Breakwater. As foundations are immersed in salt water, wood softens, iron rusts and mortar breaks down.

The weakening process to historic light station buildings is methodical and silent. Whereas disaster strikes with a suddenness, systematic degradation is a stealth enemy whose ravages are scarcely felt. The same holds true for the dangerous effects of erosion as well.

Our changing climate is placing great pressure on preservationists. Lighthouse stewards have long coped with playing catch-up to decades of neglect, a lack of resources and perpetual funding challenges, but severe and more frequent storms, along with rising sea levels, are upping the ante on sustainable preservation efforts.

On November 18th, the tide ebbed in clockwork fashion and normalcy was restored at the Rockland Breakwater. However, that day made an indelible mark on my mind – one that cannot be erased. For the quiet rise I witnessed ebbed only in the flow of the moment, not in the consequences it poses to the future.

So when the next storm swoops in, we would do well to remember that in part, the terrible impacts will be made more devastating by the quiet rise in accumulative effects.

Harm caused by the changing climate encroaches upon our historic light stations daily – not just when the wind, waves and storm surge run amok. Therefore, greater exertions and a more laser-like focus on the challenges at hand is needed. Resiliency cannot be tomorrow’s goal – it must become today’s action.