Daily Independent Journal from San Rafael, California • Page 32

M4 Jnhppgnhgnt-jfom'nal, Saturday, Dec. 27, 1975 Continued from Page Ml decided that some sort of fog signal was needed. In mid- 19th century America, some of the noisiest devices in existence were cannons; and it was decided that an Army-surplus siege gun would make a dandy fog signal. A Ifefty, eight-foot long, 24-pounder was acquired; and the new keeper, a Sergeant Maloney, U.S. Army, retired, was hired to operate both the light and fog cannon.

AN EXPERIENCED cannoneer, Ma- iQney readily agreed to fire the cannon every half hour during foggy weather. understood cannons, but not fog. On foggy days the gun was booming across the Golden Gate. oh the hour and the half-hour. The faithful old soldier soon found that Pt.

Bonita's fog was more than he had bargained for. The fog would last day and night without respite and Maloney soon wrote I cannot find any person here to relieve me, not five minutes; I have been up here three days and nights, had only two hours rest. I was nearly- used up. All the rest I would require in 24 hours is two, if I could only get it. The lighthouse inspector sent Maloney an assistant, but the job remained overwhelming.

Maloney resigned and during one nine-month period, the state went through seven keepers. DESPITE ALL, the gun continued to lioom away until 1858 when a mechanically-struck bell replaced it. However, the cannon had carved MARIN HISTORY Point Reyes the Solemn Land and "Last Stage for Bolinas $5 each, Making of Marin $7.50 Add 75c for lax mailing JACK MASON yLMg Marin a place in maritime history. Pt. Bonita's cannon was the first fog signal on the Pacific Coast.

Conditions improved by the 1870s when Sausalito could he reached by horseback in only one and a half hours. The lighthouse had been built atop Pt. highest cliff, over 300 feet above the sea. California fog is often high fog, covering the tops of headlands while leaving the lower reaches clear. Early lighthouse engineers failed to realize this, and several lighthouses had to be rebuilt at lower elevations.

Pt. Bonita was among these, and in 1877 the iron lantern room was removed (along with the lens) to a new site at the very tip of the point. There, a low, rectangular, masonry tower was built and the upper portions of the original tower placed upon it. THE RESULT WAS quite satisfactory a unique low lighthouse clinging to southwestern-most rocks. The light was obscured less often now, but fog would always remain a problem; and bells, bell boats, sirens and horns would all be used at various times to warn mariners away from Pt.

Bonita. Further north up the coast, the fog was often worse and the hazard to navigation perhaps greater. Here, the great Point Reyes Peninsula suddenly curves seaward for miles. Point Reyes had been chosen as a lighthouse site at the same time as Pt. Bonita; but land owners had asked an outrageous price for the property, and Point Reyes remained dark until Dec.

1, 1870. BY NOW, ENOUGH had been learned about local fog conditions to lead engineers to realize that the lighthouse must be placed part way down the 600-foot high headland, rather than at its top Two terraces were carved from solid rock, one about a hundred feet above the sea and the other 150 feet higher. A steam powered fog signal was built on the lower terrace, and a 16-sided, iron- plate lighthouse was erected on the upper one. Lighthouse had to be bolted to the rock since Point Reyes was not only the foggiest light station (supplanting Point Bonita in this dubious honor), but often the windiest as well. Inside the lantern room, a huge first order lens cast its beams using over 1,000 prisms.

The dwellings and other buildings were located atop the headland. Reaching the fog signal building on the lower terrace meant descending over 600 steps, twice the distance required to reach the lighthouse. The long climb back up was sometimes hampered by winds of over 100 miles per hour. Eventually, the fog signal was moved up to the lighthouse, where it is today. NEEDLESS TO SAY, keepers always had strong feelings about life at Point Reyes.

Point Reyes and Pt. Bonita represent uniquely West Coast adaptations to lighthouse building. Both are relatively short towers, equipped with large first or second order lenses, situated on very high headlands. They contrast with the little, relatively low- power harbor lights of New England or the tall, narrow towers of the Middle Atlantic states and the South. They are distinctly Pacific C'oast- style beacons, built to mark high, dangerous headlands where fog is the major problem.

The U.S. Lighthouse Service became so concerned with fog that, beginning at Ano Nuevo Island (San Mateo Count in 1872, it constructed a series of fog signal stations. These facilities featured a fog signal, quarters, and a variety of other structures such as water tanks, blacksmith shops, sheds, barns, cisterns and the like. There was, however, no light and ol course no lighthouse. THERE WERE SIX fog signal sta tions and two were in Marin.

Lime Point Fog Signal Station began operation on Sept. 10, 1883, when its big, duplicate 12-inch steam whistles began blasting. The whistles were effective, as the San Francisco Chronicle soon noted: is this (fog) signal station which plays so important a part in disturbing the slumbers of new arrivals in the neighborhood of North Beach and Harbor By November, 1900, nearly all of the fog signal stations were equipped with lights and reclassified as light stations. This was done with the least cost and effort possible, and resulted in some of the most unusual looking lighthouses in America. TOM SMITH, lost keeper of Pt.

Reyes Lighthouse, cleans the lantern room windows of the century-old tower. Inside can be seen the great lens with over one-thousand hand ground prisms. Even today, the lens can still be operated using its original clockwork drive powered by a weight. BONITA LIGHTHOUSE marks Marin County's southwestern-most point. Here, on a windy day, waves shoot 50 feet into the air as they break below the lighthouse.

The original lens, built in France in the 1850s, still shines each night. (Photo by Ralph shonkj) LIME POINT LIGHTHOUSE bears little resemblance to conventional images of lighthouses, yet it serves with the same effectiveness of its towering kin. The Marin pillar of the Golden Gate Bridge can be seen at left. The freighter India Bear rammed the lighthouse just aft of the three-story dwelling. (U 5 Gu3rd Our Lighthouses Hove Served The Mariners Long And Well ANGEL ISLAND LIGHTHOUSE consisted of a square dwelling with a bellhouse in front.

It was originally a fog signal station which accounts for its unusual construction. The Lighthouse Service considered Angel Island to be one of the worst hazards to navigation on San Francisco Bay and strongly urged Congress to appropriate funds for the station. (u Com' BUT BEER BOTTLES and bandits to be the end of Lime troubles. On June 3, 1960, the station was hidden in heavy fog, its light flashing and horn blaring. The Coast Guardsman on watch performed the usual duties of a foggy night.

The calm routine was suddenly broken. The lighthouse began to shake and then a wall disintegrated. The keeper thought that the Golden Gate Bridge was crashing down on him. The culprit was big, but not so large as the bridge. It was the Pacific Far East Lines freighter India Bear, and she had plowed into the station.

Strong winds and currents had driven the vessel off course, and she had lost her way in the fog. Damage was severe, but the ship was to face a heavier repair bill than the lighthouse. Lime Point simply had a lens lantern mounted on the seaward wall of its fog signal building and presto in the eyes of the Lighthouse Service it became a lighthouse. LIME POINT continued to serve faithfully and blissfully for decades. Then the Golden Gate Bridge was built almost directly above the station.

From then on, keepers maintained one eye on the sea and the other on the bridge, since tourists delighted in dropping bottles and other trash on the lighthouse. Despite this, Lime Point was popular with keepers and renowned for its fine fishing. The tranquility was broken again, when on a dark night in 1959, a bandit held up the lighthouse at gun point, taking the cash. As the robber fled, he fired two shots into the night to encourage the keepers to continue their vigilant watch, rather than follow him down the lonely road from the station. The first keeper was John Ross, a veteran of years of service aboard the lighthouse tender Shubrick.

Ross had given up his career as a sailor after a tow line snapped and the hauser recoiled across the deck, smashing the leg so severely that it had to be amputated. He spent the next 15 years with his wife and children tending the Angel Island fog bell. During his last year, a lens lantern was mounted on the bell house, converting Angel Island to a light station. Rass WAS FOLLOWED by Juliet Nichols. Born in China, Mrs.

Nichols was the wife of a retired naval officer She was one of a dozen California women lighthouse keepers. Juliet Nichols was known for her dedication and intelligence. On July 2, 1906, the mechanical striking mechanism unexpectedly broke down and the bell became silent. There was a heavy fog about, making Island a serious hazard to shipping. Mrs.

Nichols did the only thing she could. Picking up a common nail hammer, she began to pound the bell. Hours passed and the fog remained. Juliet Nichols stayed with her duty, realizing to leave even briefly might allow a ship to wreck on the rocks. Ten hours passed, then 15, and finally over Continued on Page M5 THE LAST OF lighthouses was built at Pt.

Knox on Angel Island. It, too, began its career (Nov. 11, 1886) as a fog signal station, featuring a gigantic bell with a mechanical striker operated by clockwork and powered by a weight. A major part of the responsibility was cranking up the weights several times each night to keep the clockwork operating. A single story dwelling was built atop the Point and a bell house mounted in front.

THE PACIFIC COAST'S first fog signal was this Army-surplus cannon. The keeper fired it unceasingly day and night, nearly dropping from exhaustion. It was the forerunner of all the horns, whistles, sirens and gongs that can still be heard on foggy nights along the coast..