The fate of Irish Lightships

Well my right hand man in Dublin - David Ryan - is going from strength to strength! After finding those 1908 photos of Cormorant and Torch, both with a fixed lantern and one other mast, he has now discovered photos showing a 'hoistable' lantern and one other mast. The Barrels Rock vessel is Torch, but we do not know the name of the other. There are no dates attached, but they must be earlier than 1908.

As if that wasn't enough, David has also unearthed even earlier photos showing two other masts
There is not much information about these vessels, so I cannot say what their names are, but I think it is worth another 60 euros to get hi-res copies to see if they have a name anywhere on them, or at least to compare features with other photos that are identified.

David has done exceedingly well - some people have all the fun - while I slave away on Simon's boat, helping to recover and insulate the deck. More on this next time.
David

A swift recap in pictures from 'Cormorant', through 'Lady Dixon' and 'Lady December', to 'The Lightship' today. Yes it is the same ship throughout - all with the stern on the right.


David

Ouch! That's a bit below the waterline. But I must admit trying to steer him away from it!!

Just a short report on an historical discovery. During all the reports about the two and three mast photos, I did wonder where the foremast had been. On the foredeck, just in front of the companionway, was a wooden octagon with an 8-inch hole (Photo).
Too small for a mast and it fitted the 1943 blueprint position of an 8-inch dead-light, although the actual glass is missing. However, removal of the wood pieces revealed a rather larger hole (Photo) and an examination of the underside of the deck in this area showed a substantial structure, far too strong to support a small glass dead-light, but well able to take a mast. (Photo)
So my guess is that the mast hole was covered when the foremast was removed c1900 and the hole was opened up and used in 1943 to install a large dead-light.

Wasn’t it British Rail who used to say “We are getting there”. Well the lightship is making progress, but a combination of poor weather and ‘the day job’ does slow things down a bit. Poor old Simon seems to spend a great deal of time shifting building materials, bikes, plants and all sorts of ‘useful’ brick-a-brac around the deck – clearing each area in turn so that it can be worked on. The bow used to look very rough (Photo 1); then it was cleared and painted (Photo 2); my few days down there saw the framework built on the starboard side (Photo 3); and just the last week the weather-proofing went down (Photo 4) and now there is just the roofing felt and rubber tiles to be put down.
Meanwhile, on the historical research side, I am off down to London in a couple of weeks to trawl through the Trinity House records held at the London Metropolitan Archives. In January I am going to Dublin to follow up on the excellent work done by David Ryan. Hopefully the New Year will see some more interesting blasts from the past!
David

The original construction and the subsequent modernisation(s) of the Cormorant were obviously shaped by the knowledge and technology of the times. In the 1880s the lanterns were constructed of brass and glass. With the oil tanks necessary to keep them alight through the night and/or bad weather, their overall weight was 2 tons 13 cwt. Having this lump over 27ft above the deck must have tested the mast and the shrouds quite severely in rough seas. In daylight it could be lowered to deck level and no doubt also in severe storms. However, when aloft, the wicks needed trimming from time to time and the masts were made hollow, incorporating a ladder to give safe, covered access to the lamp. There could be no question of lowering the lantern when in operation just to trim the wicks. (Photo 1)

Now, having hollow masts, with two fairly large access holes in them and 2 ton weights waving about up there, must have caused a bit of concern. When the Puffin was lost with all hands in a terrible storm in 1896, the inquiry decided the cause was the mast breaking below the deck, carrying away the house and tearing a large portion of the deck. “The rectangular doorway was a source of weakness ….”. (Photo 2)

This tragedy may well have caused Trinity House and the Commissioners for Irish Lights to look again at the design of masts and lanterns. Changing to acetylene may have obviated the need for frequent access. By 1908 Cormorant and her sister ship Torch had been converted to a fixed lantern. This was just as high up the mast – the mast most probably strengthened by plating over the two access doors – but because it did not have to be hauled up and down, or to carry oil tanks, it could be constructed weighing a good deal less than 2 tons. (Photo 3)

Later in life the cramped crew quarters were improved by the addition of a deckhouse and certainly this was needed when Belfast Harbour adapted her to act as a pilot station as well as a lightship. With 10 crew and 9 pilots, extra room was certainly needed. (Photo 4)

This superstructure may well have added support to the mast, but as Cormorant – or Lady Dixon as she was now christened – was safely tucked up inside Belfast Lough, she would never experience the sort of atrocious weather suffered on station at Lucifer Shoals, the Kish and other isolated moorings. (Photo 5)

Today, or rather over the next year or so, her insides will be reworked yet again. This has already started and the deckhouse is approaching completion (as you have seen in previous posts). Below deck will be a much greater challenge!

David

Thanks for the kind remark. The owners of the painting are a bit wary about advertising the fact that they own such a handsome painting. All I can tell you is that the artist was a senior naval officer who died in 1895 and the painting is in Ireland.
The lightship may well be Cormorant - she did serve on that station during her service - but there is no way of telling from the painting.
David

Well the London Metropolitan Archives pulled out the stops and my photo, ordered on Thursday, arrived the following Monday! I had to ask permission to reproduce it here, but that did not take long. It shows a hoistable lantern close up (Photo 1 © Trinity House). The construction of the 2 ton 13 cwt monster can be seen clearly and the crew member alongside gives a good impression of the size. I assume that chain is for hauling the lantern up the mast by means of the manual (?) windlass at the bottom of the photo. Although those chains look fairly vertical, they cannot be. The windlass must be nearer to the camera than it looks so that the chains do not foul the lantern when it goes up. However, in all the photos I have of these lightships with hoistable lanterns, I can find no clear evidence of stout chains near the mast. I can see block and tackle arrangements such as on the Owers lightship (Photo 2).

I say this as a plural because there is one forward as well as the expected one aft. Perhaps it took two windlasses to hoist the monster aloft? Or perhaps these are nothing to do with the lantern – in which case where are the chains?

Incidentally, the Owers Station is off Selsey Bill and I gather that one lightship with the name Owers is now a wreck in Tel Aviv harbour. I don’t think it will be this one.

The other question refers back to discussions we had on sails. I assume that is a furled sail stretching towards the lantern and, as it looks very straight, I assume it is around a spar/ boom. There does not appear to be any rigging keeping it up. It must be hanging (sorry, wrong term) from the mizen and possibly anchored (sorry, wrong term) to the main mast or superstructure near it, but I have never seen a sail in that position in any of the old photos. There have been photos of furled sails and just one unfurled (Photo 3) – all aft of the mizen. So come on you experts, what is going on?

The renovation has picked up speed and the deck is now completely insulated and weather-proofed. The bow has never looked so good! (Photo 4).

I know some of you will be wondering what that large blue tray is doing there. Well it’s where Molly – Simon’s dog – empties her bladder in between trips ashore. The observant amongst you will notice that it is slightly tilted by those green blocks. This is to encourage the effluent down to the bottom left corner where there is a gap in the surround. Although hidden by a hanging basket (of dead flowers) the gap is positioned over the starboard haws pipe …. need I say more?
David

A happy New Year to all my readers!
I gave some serious thought to the suggestion that I should write a book on the history of ‘Cormorant’. Just repeating these posts would not produce a coherent story (or a lot of interest!), so it would have to be properly done, flavouring the cold facts with historical detail and evidence. I even started to sketch out the first chapter, beginning in 1876/8 when ‘Cormorant’ was built by the Victoria Shipbuilding Co., West Passage, Cork. That is where I hit the first snag.
I have always accepted that statement as fact because it is quoted in many sources, but I can find no record of that shipbuilding company. I know where West Passage is and it did have a flourishing shipbuilding/repair industry in the mid-1800s. I have found the Royal Victoria Dockyards; the Passage Docks & Shipbuilding Co; the Cork Shipbuilding Co. Passage West; and others; but no mention of the Victoria Shipbuilding Co. Well I am off to Dublin in a couple of weeks, so hopefully I will be able to determine whether this is a case of someone getting the name wrong and everyone afterwards repeating the mistake (instead of doing their homework properly!).
Meanwhile Patrick (SailPix) sent me a link which shows a mailboat delivering to a lightship on the Kish Bank station. A great deal of smoke was being puffed out by the mailboat, so it is not possible to identify the lightship. That little speck in the water is probably the lightship cutter going back to mother after collecting the mail. I wonder why the mailboat crew are wearing cloche hats!
http://fatherbrowne.com/Ships%20&%20Shipping/Passengers%20and%20Crew/Htmls/PaCright28.html
David

My mention of a possible book on the history of Cormorant produced a deafening silence, so have abandoned that idea! Maybe if I get snowed in this Winter I will produce one copy – for Simon.
My trip to Dublin is rapidly approaching and David Ryan is being a great help over there. We have much to do in a short time!
That will be looking at material from 1878 to 1943. Meanwhile I have found confirmation that the ship was indeed moored near Sittingbourne in the 1990s. Charles Reece owned her at that time; she was painted red (Photo 1); and was reported to be at Gas Road, Milton Creek. Looking on Google Earth, I easily found Milton Creek. Gas Road meanders around a bit, but I did see a sort of jetty in the right area. I then spotted Google’s historical facility, which offers aerial shots of locations taken from other sources. Obviously the coverage is limited to what’s on offer, both in area and time. In this case it was Kent County Council in 1990 and there was Lady Dixon (née Cormorant) lying alongside that very jetty (Photo 2). A small discovery perhaps, but a very satisfying one.
David

I have found a great deal of interesting material in the library of the Belfast Harbour Commissioners, the National Archives in Kew and the London Metropolitan Archives. I was hoping that the Commissioners for Irish Lights would also yield something useful. David Ryan has unearthed good photos from the CIL collection in the National Library of Ireland and I hope to find more when I visit this week. However it seems that the CIL Board Minutes and other possibly interesting material is out of reach. Apparently it is not kept in the CIL HQ, but has been stored elsewhere and is not accessible to the public. Also, although the Minutes should be easy to navigate, other documents are not catalogued and would take considerable effort to work through. A heavily over-worked private researcher does have access, but charges 30 euros per hour – definitely outside my budget!
So, back on the ship, Simon would really like to get on and finish off the salon. As hanging very special wallpaper is what he does for a living, it should not be too difficult, were it not for the laws of physics. The structure of the deckhouse includes metal triangular fillets joining vertical beams to roof beams (not sure what they are called but I think in wooden ships they were called ‘knees’). The walls and the roof are now well insulated, but these fillets, or part of them, protrude through by about 16 x 17 x 20 inches (Photo 1).

Now they are of course bolted/welded to the metal sheeting which forms the roof and side walls, so they are nearly as cold as the outside. Those of you who paid attention in class will know that when warm, moist air comes into contact with a cold surface, condensation often forms – depending on the Dew Point (I paid attention). It certainly does on these fillets, especially now winter is upon us. Simon does not want water running down his expensive wallpaper, so I am experimenting with ways of preventing this – either by avoiding the fillets getting cold (extremely difficult), or by preventing the moist air reaching the cold metal.

My first idea is to glue an insulating material to the fillets and I am trying rubber at the moment. I bought some 2mm sheet (white) and stuck some to an odd piece of metal, leaving a bare strip which I submerged in ice water (Photo 2). Now the worst case scenario is when the room has been cold for a while and whatever heat the fillets have absorbed from the room has been lost by conduction to the outside. When Simon then lights the stove and the room heats up, the warm air (which holds more moisture than cold) will precipitate condensation on any surface colder than the Dew Point.


So I left my apparatus in my workshop (ambient 2°C these days!) for an hour or two and then brought it into the kitchen (ambient 17°C). After an hour I measured the temperature at various points on the metal and the rubber with a laser thermometer, to see whether the rubber surface stays warmer than the metal and avoids condensation. (Photo 3 – ignore the ice which had all but melted by this time. This is Photo 2 with temperatures added). To make sure the emissivity of the white rubber was not too different from that of the dull metal, I stuck small pieces of black tape to the rubber. Impressed?
There was condensation on the exposed metal below the rubber and this had obviously precipitated before the exposed metal rose above the 0.5°C at which it emerged from the workshop. Doing the test again without the cold start produced no condensation on the metal. There was no condensation on the rubber strips in either case. Q.E.D.


We must now do an on-site test and I am sending Simon a suitable rubber piece. Of course the answer might be to keep the ship interior heated at all times in cold weather, or to run a large dehumidifier constantly, but until the lower deck space is insulated and some form of heating available down there (or Simon wins the Lottery), such extravagance is not an option.


If anyone out there has had this problem and found a solution, we will be glad to hear from you.
David

There's definitely a book in your own adventures as well as the lightship restoration! Love the details of the inspection and the luxury of the Princess Alexandria - I'm sure they dined well on it. Served up on lots of nice CIL crested crockery no doubt.

Looking forward to seeing more of the lightship pics and be nice to the Morris Minor.

Hi David,
Enjoying the updates, just wondering as I may have missed but have you been out to the maritime museum in Dun Laoghaire apart from being a nice place they have an archive area with Lloyds registers and naval chronicles etc. It's still being curated and the work is being done by volunteers but may be worth a look. They have a revolving reflector from an old lighthouse that's worth going to see on its own.
http://www.mariner.ie/?gclid=CMP7idWHvMMCFYGD2wodADkAOw

The preservation of Cormorant / Lady Dixon is progressing slowly but surely. Simon has at last purchased the protective tiles needed to cover the newly insulated and waterproofed deck. The rubber tiles have come from a playground and are one metre square. He needs about 60 of them, but the deal is for 120, so there will be plenty of spares! They weigh about 2.4tons in total and will be delivered early this week. At around 45lbs per tile, Simon will have to make many trips along the catwalk with his trolley!

He has decided not to use the tiles on the stern deck. Some time ago he bought a load of discarded hardwood decking and, after cleaning it up, intends to turn it back into ‘decking’ (Photo 820).
To make proper use of his new log-burning stove, Simon has had some radiators installed. Some are temporary, but all provide welcome warmth. The first to be installed was a small one to absorb the heat of the water from the back boiler, even if all others were turned off (a ‘safety’ radiator) and it had to be situated above the level of that boiler (Photo 821).

Eventually it will be boxed in. The little bathroom needed some heat and warming towels would be a bonus, so in went a smart towel rail (Photo 822).
Then Simon found a very smart radiator which fitted in beautifully at the top of the spiral staircase (Photo 823).

A bit more history….
I came across a very nice old (1870) book ‘Lighthouses and Lightships’ by W.H. Davenport Adams. I am sure he will not mind me quoting bits from his book as they give a great feel of life aboard the early lightships …….
“The form of the lightship varies according to its locality: in Ireland the hull is more elongated than in England; but in all cases the object to be attained is the same – resistance to the force of the winds and waves. It is desired that in the most violent tides, in the midst of the angriest billows, and in situations the most exposed to the influence of the currents, it shall drag as little as possible upon its anchor. That it may at all times and in all conditions preserve the same maritime position, it is securely moored. Like a galley-slave, riveted to an iron chain, it can move neither to the right nor to the left.
Let us now say a few words in reference to the resolute crews who man these vessels. The crew of an English lightship consists of a master, a mate, and nine men. Three out of the nine are intrusted with the service of the lamps; the six others, who always include among them a good carpenter, attend to the order and cleanliness of the vessel. It must be remembered, however, that the nine men are never all on board together; one-third are always enjoying an interval of rest on shore. Experience has proved that a perpetual sojourn on board a ship of this kind is too much for the moral and physical forces of human nature. The crushing monotony of the same scenes, the eternal spectacle of foam-crested waters rolling wherever the eye is turned, the ceaseless noise of the winds, the everlasting murmur of the ocean – swelling at times into so terrible a roar that it renders inaudible the human voice – could not fail to exercise a depressing influence on the mind. But even allowing for the occasional vacation spent upon land, the life is so uniform and unexciting that it is wonderful any man can be found to endure it; and the crews of our lightships may assuredly be ranked among the curiosities of civilization”.

He has a lovely turn of phrase doesn’t he?
David

“The visitor of a lightship cannot fail to be struck with its admirable condition, and with the fine appearance of its crew (Photo 841). Sun-tanned and weather-beaten, they are models of sailors: frank, self-reliant, unassuming, obedient, nimble, vigorous, and resolute. (Photo 842 – Repairs aboard Osprey in 1905)
They seem well-contented with their lot, and if they complain at all, it is of the quantity and quality of their provisions.
The ration of bread (seven pounds a week) is not quite sufficient for hearty men, and I confess, from my own experience, that the sharp air to which they are exposed is well adapted to whet ones appetite.
When they are at sea, their food is supplied; when on shore, they receive instead one shilling and three-pence a day. Their wages are fifty-five shillings per month; the master receives £80 per annum.
Two men at a time are charged with the care of the lamps, the third being on shore; one of these two performs for a month the functions of a cook. Formerly, if we may believe public rumour, the lightship crews, isolated by continental tempests which rendered the sea impracticable, have been reduced to the extremest necessities, have even perished of hunger.
To prevent the recurrence of such calamities, a steamboat or a good stout sailing-vessel regularly visits the lightship once a month. In the worst weather the communication is never interrupted for a longer period than six weeks, and the stock of provisions is always sufficient to last the crew for even a longer time”.
‘Lighthouses and Lightships’ by W.H. Davenport Adams.

Some of the ships in the CIL/NLI photographs are equipped with fog horns, but some still have the fog bell on the foredeck (Photo 843). By 1905 some were also equipped with an underwater or submarine bell as sound carries further underwater than in air. An example can be seen hanging over the side on a chain.

I suppose many warning devices were invented and tried, including a submarine ‘horn’ (Photo 844) and a weird American device which looks as though it uses the hull as a sounding board (Photo 845). The effect on the ship’s crew must have been rather startling!

All these photographs are © Commissioners for Irish Lights and courtesy of The National Library of Ireland.

David