Let your love light shine

Occupying a peculiar place in our imaginations, the indefatigable lighthouses dotted around our shores have long been beacons of hope and safety, says Eleanor Doughty

- Eleanor Doughty

HIGH up on a rock, 12 miles off the coast of Arbroath, stands a storm-battered stone structure: Bell Rock lighthouse. The rain passes, the sun shines, the gulls circle; no matter what, Bell Rock stands proud, as it has done since 1811, warning of the reef below.

The lighthouse occupies a peculiar place in our collective imaginations. Visiting La Corbière lighthouse in Jersey in 2019, I was captivated by this ancient structure. It felt like a snack-sized portion of Enid Blyton in front of my very eyes and I longed to climb in and tuck into some ginger beer with the lighthouse keeper. Yet he is no more. There are more than 330 lighthouses in the British Isles today, the majority of which are managed by one of three authorities: Trinity House, the charity dedicated to safeguarding shipping and seafarers in England, Wales and the Channel Islands; the Northern Lighthouse Board (NLB), which covers Scotland and the Isle of Man; and the Commissioners of Irish Lights, which looks after Ireland and Northern Ireland. Since 1998, all of these lighthouses have been automated and there are no longer keepers winding the light, ‘like a giant grandfather clock every 30 minutes,’ as former lighthouse keeper Peter Hill remembers.

Before 1836, the British lighthouse network had both public and private owners, explains Tom Nancollas, author of Seashaken Houses: A Lighthouse History from Eddystone to Fastnet. ‘Private entrepreneurs could seek permission from the Crown to erect lighthouses as profit-making ventures, as ships would have to pay a toll for their safe passage.’ When, in 1841, Skerries Lighthouse off Anglesey was sold to Trinity House, it was for £444,984—truly, a valuable asset.