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American Lighthouse Foundation, Inc.
P.O. Box 565
Rockland,
Maine 04841
Phone: 207-594-4174
Fax: 207-596-1091
info@lighthousefoundation.org
The American Lighthouse Foundation is a
Non-Profit 501(c)(3) Organization dedicated to the
preservation of America's historic
lighthouses & lightships and
their heritage.
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Blizzard of 2006 and
Lighthouse Preservation
By Bob Trapani, Jr.
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| The “Blizzard of 2006” that occurred on
February 11th & 12th was a fearsome winter storm
for many parts of the Atlantic seaboard. National weather
prognosticators warned residents stretching from the Tennessee River
Valley, through the mid-Atlantic region all the way north to Maine that
blizzard or “white out” conditions were in the offing. Accu Weather |
Photo by Bob Trapani, Jr.
Snow begins to blow over Cutler Harbor,
Maine on Sunday, February 12, 2006
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noted in
advance of the storm that, “Winds will crank to gale strength…at the height
of the storm, which holds blizzard potential, heavy snowfall in tandem with
blowing and drifting will make travel hazardous and it may become all but
impossible in areas of heaviest snowfall.”
Spending the weekend in Downeast Maine as the northeaster worked its way up
the coast, my thoughts drifted off contemplating the well being of the many
lighthouses standing directly in the path of this pending winter onslaught.
Such thoughts became more profound on the heels of a National Weather
Service special alert for coastal Downeast on Saturday, February 11th,
which stated, “Blizzard warning in effect from 7 AM Sunday to 3 AM EST
Monday.” The warning went on to state, “This storm will have an extreme
impact on the warning area. Very strong winds of 30 to 40 MPH combined with
heavy snow will create potentially deadly outdoor conditions.”
The lighthouse closest to where I was staying for the weekend was one of
ours – Little River Light Station at the head of Cutler Harbor, which is |
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Photo by Bob Trapani, Jr.
Little River Light Station
Maine
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owned by the American Lighthouse
Foundation (ALF) through the National Historic Lighthouse Preservation
Act. Since 2002 ALF volunteers have worked to restore the remote island
site to its former glory. Four years and $225,000 later at the end of
the 2005 work season, the light station was approximately 80% restored.
Though Little |
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River Light
Station has weathered countless storms similar to the approaching
northeaster, each new storm attacks a lighthouse at a different stage of
restoration – or deterioration, which makes its potential impact an
anxiety-filled unknown.
Could this snowstorm turned blizzard wreak havoc on Little River and other
lighthouses from Maine to the mouth of the Delaware Bay? The answer was
obviously “yes,” which served as a stark reminder as to why it is so
critical that the lighthouse preservation community maintains a steadfast,
dutiful watch with ensuring that our restoration projects do not suffer from
a loss of momentum. History teaches all too often that mighty gales and
hurricanes come and go in a brief moment, but their devastating impact can
sometimes last forever in the irreparable or total loss of a lighthouse.
A walk outside on Saturday night revealed an eerie sereneness that would
have no doubt told many old timers in the days when lighthouses were |
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| manned that something “was afoot”
weather-wise. The air was frigid and the winds dead calm. Overhead was a
starlit sky and a full moon shining it milky white glow over a lonely
seascape of shadows and silence. My thoughts immediately pondered the
fact that such a tranquil scene would soon be vanquished in a matter of
hours and replaced by a whirling |
Photo by Bob Trapani, Jr.
Slush and ice float atop the waters
of Downeast Maine before the
blizzard's arrival
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dervish of
suffocating white stuff. With that thought in hand, I walked back inside for
the night.
By 7:00 a.m. Sunday morning on February 12th the breeze
noticeably picked up, while stray snowflakes “bounced” chaotically up and
down upon the air at the whim of the building wind. A look to the edge of
the rocky shoreline revealed a plethora of slush and ice floating atop the
water, lurching forward before falling back in rhythmic fashion on the
ebbing tide. Meanwhile rolling cloudbanks of gray over Grand Manan Channel
exuded an ominous feeling, as all traces of the warming sun would be
banished from the sky, on this day to remember.
Inside the protective confines of Cutler Harbor a fleet of lobster boats are
firmly secured to their moorings. With the blizzard’s arrival only hours |
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Photo by Bob Trapani, Jr.
Cutler Harbor's lobster boats are
securely moored as the snow begins to fall
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away, the harbor is ghostly quiet. Just outside the snug
harbor the sea conditions on Grand Manan Channel are beginning to become
quite harrowing. White caps danced atop up-heaving swells, making for a
turbulent seascape that promised to become much worse as the snowstorm
strengthened its hold on the region.
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One need not be on the island at Little River to imagine what the sea was
capable of doing at such an exposed location. The visible watery chaos on
the horizon conjured up a stark image of the vastness of the ocean and how
it draws its devastating power from the deep, which then careens landward
with unabated fury before exploding atop the rocky ledges and shoreline. In
fact, it was quite evident that the seas were increasing in size and rage by
the hour – presenting the appearance of a boiling caldron as storm winds
whipped to frenzy.
Would the keeper’s house – a charming clapboard structure situated on the
northeast side of Little River Island and directly in the path of the
powerful blizzard, withstand the potentially damaging winds? Periodically
throughout the history of the light station, strong northeast storms
spawning towering waves were known to douse the unprotected dwelling with a
bath of saltwater over-spray as rogue walls of water broke apart on the
rocks in the face of a furious wind.
By 9:00 a.m. the
distant islands are no longer visible as a distant sullen sky and angry sea
have meshed to become one gray mass with no |
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| discernable beginning or end. The
suffocating atmospheric conditions are quickly deteriorating to “white
out” atop the seascape. The National Weather Service forecast for the
remainder of Sunday was less than encouraging, stating, “N winds 30 to
40 knots with gusts up to 50 knots…seas 10 to 15 feet.” The moment of
truth had arrived for |
Photo by Bob Trapani, Jr.
By midday on Sunday, snow from the
northeast storm covered the coastline
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Downeast Maine and there was no place to hide.
The storm’s wrath was felt most by mid afternoon into evening on Sunday as
the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s weather buoy off
nearby Jonesport, Maine, recorded sustained gale force winds with gusts of
45 MPH and waves between 10 and 14 feet. In addition to the powerful winds
and seas, blinding snow was whipping across the coast in horizontal fashion
– conditions that would make anyone run for cover to a warm and dry place.
During the overnight hours from Sunday into Monday however, the northeaster
moved off the coast of Maine and up into the Canadian Maritimes, as the sun
returned to invigorate a bright winter blue sky in the wake of the tempest.
Unable to access the island following the storm, the American Lighthouse
Foundation is uncertain as to what impact – if any, the gale might have
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Photo by Bob Trapani, Jr.
Looking out over Holmes Bay as daylight
ends reveals the tidal flats covered in a
layer of snow as far as the eye could see
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had on the buildings and trees of Little
River Island. As lighthouse preservationists though, our collective
concerns for the projects we hold dear are always heightened during
these storms. Will all our hard work over the years be shattered in a
moment by the storm’s onslaught? How will this affect our plans for
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2006 and beyond?
If there is serious damage, where will the extra funds come from to enact
emergency repairs?
All these are legitimate concerns – potential issues that all lighthouse
preservation organizations must wrestle with as we work to plan for the
unknown. Maybe the “Blizzard of 2006” didn’t harm our lighthouses but the
next storm might. Are we prepared to react in a timely and effective manner
to safeguard our lighthouses should such a meteorological calamity befall
our project? We can never account for every adverse circumstance that could
potentially impact our lighthouses – there simply isn’t enough time, money
or volunteers to ensure so.
That said, the “Blizzard of 2006” should serve as a reminder to all
lighthouse preservationists that our hold on these coastal sites is a
tenuous one, and without a complete and sustainable commitment to their
protection, we expose these stately beacons to further harm at the hands of
the unforgiving elements. As keepers of the lights, we should strive to take
comfort in the ability to say with a clear conscious that we’ve put forth
our very best efforts to safeguard our lighthouses from such harm. We can
only do our best and let the rest remain in the hands of fate, but let’s
constantly encourage our comrades to do just that – our very best!
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