SEPTEMBER 1902. 



A GOOD deal of heavy weather has been experienced on the 

 Hock this month, and the stability of our new lantern 

 subjected to a fair strain, though probably nothing to what 

 it will have to encounter during the course of the winter. 

 The lantern composed of gun metal astragals, narrowed to 

 the utmost limit compatible with strength, in order to inter- 

 cept as little light as possible may be looked upon as a huge 

 hollow cylinder of glass, which in itself seems but a feeble 

 barrier to the onslaughts of the storm. But the three tiers 

 of triangular panes are of heavy plate glass, and the apparently 

 slim like astragals are braced together in the most effective 

 manner to ensure the greatest degree of strength, and need 

 cause no uneasiness to the stranger viewing the outlook during 

 the progress of a gale. It is awful to think that out in that 

 dark void, amid the warring elements, fellow beings may be 

 battling for their lives in close proximity to where we sit in 

 comfort and security, totally ignorant of their condition, and 

 utterly helpless to render them the slightest assistance. 

 Probably a case in point occurred during the gale of the 3rd. 

 On the 9th, about noon, we were somewhat surprised to see 

 the gunboat Seamew approaching the Rock with a hoist of 

 flags, indicating that they wished to communicate with us. 

 Bringing up close to the Rock, they signalled, " Have you seen 

 a vessel in distress 1 " to which we answered " No " ; and then 

 remembering we had seen a torpedo boat pass the day previous, 

 and fearing another case of "buckling" had occurred, we 

 asked "Was it a torpedo boat?" in reply to which they 

 communicated the intelligence, "No; it is a sailing craft 

 from Anstruther last Wednesday, and seven hands." On our 

 replying " We have not seen her," the signal " Thank you " 

 was hoisted, and the gunboat steamed out to the eastward on 



