Friday 17 January
It is 0930hrs, and I’m contorting my limbs trying to slip into a bright yellow flight suit. Ten minutes later and I’m bundled into an awaiting helicopter with engineers Kirsty and George, along with supplies to last a week-long stay on an uninhabited island. Land’s End falls away behind us as we soar over Longships Lighthouse, and before long the Isles of Scilly appear on the horizon.
We land on Round Island beside a 19th century lighthouse and with feet back on solid ground, George and I manage to shrug out of our flight suits while Kirsty has an argument with hers. A faulty zip! She’s condemned to shuffling around station until a good pair of pliers are flown out alongside engineer Phil.
Opening up a lighthouse is much like entering a shared holiday home – you’re hoping the generator switches on and that the previous guests have left it clean. Before long the station hums with electricity, and with the cargo unloaded we’re on to our next critical task: choosing who gets the top bunk.
Phil arrives with the pliers (Kirsty is freed from her straitjacket), but he also brings with him surprising news: there is the possibility we might be taken back to the mainland today. Scheduling conflicts and an emergency in the north means the helicopter is required elsewhere. With multiple teams offshore like ourselves, taking us off now would reduce the risk of others being stuck at stations for longer than intended.
And so the afternoon is spent sitting in limbo. Do we unpack? Do we start making lunch?
We receive the news: we are to stay on site! George unfurls his tractor-themed bedsheets in celebration, and Kirsty stocks the fridges (this is when we discover we have a lifetime’s supply of broccoli).
The keepers’ quarters are attached to the lighthouse, a tower built in 1887 by William Tregarthen Douglass of the famous Douglass lighthouse-building dynasty. I can stroll from my bedroom, down the hall, and be inside the tower staring up at the winding staircase without needing to battle wind and rain. Not that we have any of that; the sun has shone consistently since arriving, and there’s more of that forecast for the next seven days.
Up in the lantern room, I find Phil and Kirsty assessing the state of affairs. The project brief is to remove the existing lamp from inside the lens, fit a new LED in its place, remove redundant cables and rewire as required.
While they prod around the various electrical boxes, I scale up the lantern room, past the rotating drum lens and out onto the suspended catwalk supporting the emergency beacon. From this vantage point near the dome ceiling, I can peer out over the island. The lighthouse sits at the northern end of the small granite isle that is lined with rocky coves, and dotted with green vegetation and old service buildings. In the distance I can spot some of the other Isles: St Martin’s, St Mary’s, Tresco.
I think it is going to be a good week island-living.
Sunday 19 January
I’m tucked up in my top bunk, nestled in after a splendid weekend here on sunny Round Island. Saturday morning saw the light switched off and the emergency beacon brought online. Kirsty, George and Phil have been hard at work, removing cabling and fitting in the new LED lamp. I trail the three engineers like a fly, buzzing around the lantern room snapping photos of them in their becoming orange overalls. In addition to documenting the works I moonlight as tea lady, making sure the kettle is boiled as soon as I hear them descend the tower stairs.
I’ve explored the island over the last few days, taking the steep stone staircase down to the old boat landing at the far end of the isle. Where once keepers would disembark from vessels to commence their stint manning the station, it’s now George’s fishing spot. He hasn’t caught anything just yet; he claims this is due to the seal colony lingering nearby...
What George lacks in fish, he makes up for in cheesecake. We found him prepping one in the station kitchen and instantly forgave him (and the seals).
Tonight, we took in some stargazing. As an Australian native, I struggle to find where the constellations lie in a northern hemisphere sky. What I don’t struggle with, however, is finding our neighbouring lighthouses in the distance. From the island you can clearly spot the blinking lights from Wolf Rock, Longships, and Pendeen, as well as the Sevenstones Lightvessel. We have Field Operations teams mobilised at most of these sites, and although they are a good few miles from us, the regular chatter over the station radio makes it feel as though they are just a stone’s throw away.
Before retreating inside to the warm bedrooms, we watch the emergency beacon rotate from our own tower and wonder if it can be seen from the other stations.
It’s terribly comfortable in our bunks, and the faint hum of the generator mixed with the distant crashing of the waves puts me straight to sleep each evening. Tonight is no exception, so I shall say goodnight!
Tuesday 21 January
It’s all hands on deck in the lantern room. We’re due to leave the lighthouse tomorrow, and while the new LED lamp is in place, the rewiring and cable management has got Kirsty and George crawling around under the lens pedestal on all fours. Phil sits in front of the electrical boxes poring over manuals and standards documents, and I act as runner for them (you’d be amazed at how often something is left at the bottom of the stairs).
George has put me to work around station: today he taught me how to replenish the rooftop water tanks, and in return I taught him how to cross-stitch. The jury is still out on which is the better life skill, but the two of us feel rather more knowledgeable than we were a few days prior.
It’s past 1800hrs and Phil is still up in the lantern room working. I’m about to run up the tower and give him his five-minute dinner warning. Kirsty has whipped up a cracking roast and even though it would be terrible for the lamp installation to run over time, it’s agreed unanimously around the kitchen that cold potatoes would be much worse.
Wednesday 22 January
I’ve said farewell to Round Island! After a morning of cleaning and packing, I fought my way inside my flight suit just as the helicopter touched down beside the tower. As we started our ascent, I looked over to find Phil waving from inside the lantern room, and before long the lighthouse was a mere white dot in the distance.
Back at the St Just depot, I meet more of the Field Operations team, many of whom have just returned from their own offshore stints. I come away from the depot with a list of upcoming lighthouse trips worth joining in on, and also a profound admiration for the teams that do this near-weekly. Perhaps a little jealousy too, lighthouse-living was all I could have hoped it would be, and I simply must schedule another soon!