I think this would be the most awesome way of life..
There are no pizza deliveries, the mailman never comes, and if you need to run to the minimart, it's literally an ocean away. Such is the life of Sally Snowman on Little Brewster, a rocky island on the outer rim of Boston Harbor.
Snowman is the last Coast Guard lighthouse keeper in the nation, a relic from the age when lighthouse keepers before her climbed the narrow metal spiral staircase up to the lantern room to light a wick that would flash a warning to ship captains.
Today, the lighthouse is automated, but Snowman is still responsible for keeping the oldest continuing lighthouse station operating as the site continues to be a navigational aid for mariners, shining out 27 miles over the waters.
Snowman is the first female lighthouse keeper in the tower's long history, and as a historian and tour guide for the 1716 landmark, she not only maintains the lighthouse, keeper's cottage, and other buildings, but also does 20th century lighthouse duties: rewriting policies and procedures, training and scheduling hundreds of volunteers, and overseeing supplies.
And all this is complicated by being on an island with limited water supply, located two miles east of Boston.
"We need to keep the lawn mowed, buildings painted, and lots of other chores, and when we need paint or other supplies, we can't just get in the car and go to Home Depot," says Snowman.
Do you ever feel confined on such a small island?
The island is 1 acre at high tide and 3 acres at low tide, but I love having the water all around me, and watching the waves crash in. The seagulls fly so close to the house that it looks as if they are going to crash into it. Sometimes, at low tide, I walk over to Great Brewster. That's a bigger island. I prefer this one.
Where does your electricity come from?
We're plugged into a 13,000-foot extension cord that gives us power from Hull. It runs underwater and is plugged into a transformer at Windmill Point, so when they lose their power, we lose ours, although we do have back-up generators.
So that means you don't have to live without your microwave.
Right. I live in the keeper's house, which was built in 1884 and looks like a traditional New England farmhouse. I have all the conveniences of life, including a big screen TV, microwave, toaster, washer, dryer - anything you'd have on the mainland. And every room has a view. I keep all the venetian blinds up, because I want sun and I want to look out and see the spectacular view.
Have you ever been stuck out here?
Yes, in the blizzard of 2005, the storm came in so quickly that the Coast Guard felt they couldn't safely come and get me. We had 20-foot seas, the windows rattled, and the wind howled, but I never felt unsafe or worried about the house washing off the foundation. We ran from one window to another, saying, "look at that wave." It was the best time of my life. And we didn't get a lot of snow, either, because the high winds blew the snow away, and it came down horizontally.
Who's out at the lighthouse with you?
My husband, James G. Thomson. He often wears a T-shirt that says "Keeper's Husband." We were married at the lighthouse in 1994, something I always dreamed about. Appropriately, for the ceremony, we sailed out here on a sailboat named "True Love."
How did you find out about this job?
I grew up tooling around the harbor in boats, and I always fantasized about being a lighthouse keeper, but thought, "I'm a girl; that's a guy's job." Then I became a schoolteacher, and I volunteered here at the lighthouse for years and wrote a book about it. When the Coast Guard decided that the job could be held by a civilian in 2003, they posted it, like any other job, on an online website. So when I got the job, I was ecstatic.
How much can a lighthouse keeper earn?
My salary is public knowledge - I earn $60,000 annually.
Rumor has it that there are ghosts on the island.
I have to be careful here, because if you start telling ghost stories, your credibility as a historian can go right down the tubes. But there have been shipwrecks and drownings out here. People have had ghostly experiences, and they have been documented.
Do you miss not having to climb the stairs and turn on the light, as they did in days past?
We're not "wickies" anymore, since the lamp is automated, but the lens still needs to be dusted, the windows washed, and the lantern room needs to be swept. It's not a 60-watt bulb like in your living room - it's a 1,000-watt lamp with 336 individual prisms, and 12 "bulls eyes" that magnify the light to the equivalent of 2 million candlepower. The lens rotates, so that's 4,000 pounds of brass and glass that has to be checked on and maintained.
But what do you do when you want to order pizza?
I can get in my 20-foot outboard and go get it, but, no, there are no deliveries.
There are no pizza deliveries, the mailman never comes, and if you need to run to the minimart, it's literally an ocean away. Such is the life of Sally Snowman on Little Brewster, a rocky island on the outer rim of Boston Harbor.
Snowman is the last Coast Guard lighthouse keeper in the nation, a relic from the age when lighthouse keepers before her climbed the narrow metal spiral staircase up to the lantern room to light a wick that would flash a warning to ship captains.
Today, the lighthouse is automated, but Snowman is still responsible for keeping the oldest continuing lighthouse station operating as the site continues to be a navigational aid for mariners, shining out 27 miles over the waters.
Snowman is the first female lighthouse keeper in the tower's long history, and as a historian and tour guide for the 1716 landmark, she not only maintains the lighthouse, keeper's cottage, and other buildings, but also does 20th century lighthouse duties: rewriting policies and procedures, training and scheduling hundreds of volunteers, and overseeing supplies.
And all this is complicated by being on an island with limited water supply, located two miles east of Boston.
"We need to keep the lawn mowed, buildings painted, and lots of other chores, and when we need paint or other supplies, we can't just get in the car and go to Home Depot," says Snowman.
Do you ever feel confined on such a small island?
The island is 1 acre at high tide and 3 acres at low tide, but I love having the water all around me, and watching the waves crash in. The seagulls fly so close to the house that it looks as if they are going to crash into it. Sometimes, at low tide, I walk over to Great Brewster. That's a bigger island. I prefer this one.
Where does your electricity come from?
We're plugged into a 13,000-foot extension cord that gives us power from Hull. It runs underwater and is plugged into a transformer at Windmill Point, so when they lose their power, we lose ours, although we do have back-up generators.
So that means you don't have to live without your microwave.
Right. I live in the keeper's house, which was built in 1884 and looks like a traditional New England farmhouse. I have all the conveniences of life, including a big screen TV, microwave, toaster, washer, dryer - anything you'd have on the mainland. And every room has a view. I keep all the venetian blinds up, because I want sun and I want to look out and see the spectacular view.
Have you ever been stuck out here?
Yes, in the blizzard of 2005, the storm came in so quickly that the Coast Guard felt they couldn't safely come and get me. We had 20-foot seas, the windows rattled, and the wind howled, but I never felt unsafe or worried about the house washing off the foundation. We ran from one window to another, saying, "look at that wave." It was the best time of my life. And we didn't get a lot of snow, either, because the high winds blew the snow away, and it came down horizontally.
Who's out at the lighthouse with you?
My husband, James G. Thomson. He often wears a T-shirt that says "Keeper's Husband." We were married at the lighthouse in 1994, something I always dreamed about. Appropriately, for the ceremony, we sailed out here on a sailboat named "True Love."
How did you find out about this job?
I grew up tooling around the harbor in boats, and I always fantasized about being a lighthouse keeper, but thought, "I'm a girl; that's a guy's job." Then I became a schoolteacher, and I volunteered here at the lighthouse for years and wrote a book about it. When the Coast Guard decided that the job could be held by a civilian in 2003, they posted it, like any other job, on an online website. So when I got the job, I was ecstatic.
How much can a lighthouse keeper earn?
My salary is public knowledge - I earn $60,000 annually.
Rumor has it that there are ghosts on the island.
I have to be careful here, because if you start telling ghost stories, your credibility as a historian can go right down the tubes. But there have been shipwrecks and drownings out here. People have had ghostly experiences, and they have been documented.
Do you miss not having to climb the stairs and turn on the light, as they did in days past?
We're not "wickies" anymore, since the lamp is automated, but the lens still needs to be dusted, the windows washed, and the lantern room needs to be swept. It's not a 60-watt bulb like in your living room - it's a 1,000-watt lamp with 336 individual prisms, and 12 "bulls eyes" that magnify the light to the equivalent of 2 million candlepower. The lens rotates, so that's 4,000 pounds of brass and glass that has to be checked on and maintained.
But what do you do when you want to order pizza?
I can get in my 20-foot outboard and go get it, but, no, there are no deliveries.
