ates arrived in time to put out the fire. 

 Usually the opposite happened. 



North Carolina rebel troops blew 

 up the new Bodie Island Light in 

 1861 so Union troops wouldn't claim 

 it. Confederates also damaged the 

 beacons at Cape Lookout and Bald 

 Head and removed the lenses at Cape 

 Hatteras and Ocracoke so Union 

 soldiers couldn't find their way to 

 shore. 



After the war, North Carolina and 

 the South faced immense hurdles. The 

 lighthouses, dark since 1861, 

 crumbled in disrepair, leaving the 

 coast's warning system like a light 

 fixture without a bulb. 



Recognizing the need, the federal 

 government funneled money first to 

 the lighthouses on the Outer Banks. 

 Construction and keeper jobs opened, 

 and local merchants secured contracts 

 for fuel and supplies. Weather 

 stations, lifesaving stations and post 

 offices followed, putting the Banks 

 back on its feet. 



But what Cape Hatteras really 

 needed was a new light. The Light- 

 house Board proposed to build "the 

 most imposing and substantial brick 

 lighthouse on this continent, if not the 

 world." The light, 208 feet tall, would 

 be a showpiece, the tallest lighthouse 

 in the country. It would stand guard 

 over the graveyard of the Atlantic and 

 contribute to the commerce of the 

 United States. 



Nearly 100 Outer Banks workers 

 endured searing sun, mosquitoes, 

 biting flies, fevers and long delays 

 while constructing the new tower of 



AFTER THE WAR, 

 NORTH CAROLINA 

 AND THE SOUTH 

 FACED IMMENSE 

 HURDLES. 

 THE LIGHTHOUSES, 

 DARK SINCE 1861, 

 CRUMBLED IN DISREPAIR, 

 LEAVING THE COAST'S 



WARNING SYSTEM 

 LIKE A LIGHT FIXTURE 

 WITHOUT A BULB. 



granite, brick and iron. By 1 870, the 

 new lighthouse beamed. 



One of the first sites to support a 

 separate lighthouse and lifesaving 

 station in North Carolina was 

 Currituck. In 1874, a 158-foot tower lit 

 a dark spot in an 80-mile stretch 

 between Cape Henry and Bodie Island. 

 Its light, which could be seen for 19 

 miles, often aided rescuers from the 

 nearby Currituck Lifesaving Service 

 station. 



To help mariners in their daytime 

 visual identification, the Lighthouse 

 Board devised a painting scheme for 

 the barrier island towers in 1873. The 

 diamonds, swirls, red brick and stripes 

 we see today remain as the monuments' 



distinguishing marks. 



Rumors still fly that the painters 

 became confused and painted the wrong 

 patterns on the Cape Lookout and Cape 

 Hatteras lighthouses. People errone- 

 ously surmised that Cape Lookout's 

 diamond pattern should have been 

 painted on the Cape Hatteras structure 

 because of its proximity to Diamond 

 Shoals. But the lighthouses were 

 painted as they were meant to be: 

 diamonds on Cape Lookout and swirls 

 on Cape Hatteras. 



It is believed to be true, however, 

 that the small whaling town near the 

 Lookout Lighthouse called Diamond 

 City got its name in 1885 from its 

 nearby guardian. Bankers, tired of 

 taking beating after beating from 

 coastal storms, deserted the town after 

 the turn of the century. 



With kerosene, then electricity in 

 the early 1890s, the number of light- 

 house keepers dwindled. Advanced 

 technology and more powerful ships 

 reduced the urgent need for lighthouses. 

 In 1958, North Carolina built its last 

 lighthouse to overlook the Cape Fear at 

 Oak Island. 



Three of the state's seven light- 

 houses still flash their beams at Oak 

 Island, Ocracoke and Hatteras. Charter 

 boat captains and fishermen trawling 

 inland waters chart their courses by 

 them. Tourists soak in their beauty. And 

 Bankers write poems and sing songs to 

 capture their awe. 



"This lighthouse means a lot to the 

 local people here," Mason says of the 

 Cape Lookout Lighthouse. "It's still a 

 marker. It still means home." □ 



Lighthouse Recollections 



Rany Jennette remembers climbing 

 all 268 steps to the top of the Hatteras 

 Light with his father, Unaka, the last 

 lighthouse keeper to work there. 



"I guess I probably have more 

 memories of it than anyone," says 

 Jennette, now a ranger at the Cape 



Hatteras National Seashore. 



"Going to the top at night was 

 the most special treat of all, "he once 

 wrote. "It's hard to describe the 

 feeling or the beauty of all those 

 prisms casting diamonds of multicol- 

 ored light to dance on the deck 

 below." 



The keeper's job was a busy one. 

 He had to haul fuel to the lantern daily 

 and keep lenses clean and light 

 calibrations correct. The keeper 

 stocked food and supplies. And he kept 

 a constant watch for stranded vessels 

 and shipwrecks off the coast. 



COASTWATCH 7 



