Illuminating arguments
FIRST of it was our foghorns. They took them away. Keening like some bereft soul, these were at one time an integral part of the soundscape of Ireland. But foghorns are no more. Radar, GPS and other technological wizardry have made them redundant.
It’s the same as camouflage on war ships. Pointless. Instead of being grey and white with splodges of brown and green, they might as well be turquoise or pink.
Camouflage is pretty much redundant in the era of drones, radar, techno-navigation and pinpoint laser detection.
A recent visit to St John’s Point lighthouse at the northerly extremity of Dundrum Bay, Co Down — near the town of Killough — brought the haunting presence of the foghorns back to me.
THE lighthouse stands on a promontory, with a fine view of the Mountains of Mourne insinuating themselves into the Irish Sea. There’s probably a song in it, to be honest.
And there were the foghorns — huge red speakers, but now standing mute in the shadow of the unmanned lighthouse.
The crew of the Titanic will have heard those foghorns. St John’s Point lighthouse, dating back to 1839, was used as a marker on a test run for the Titanic in 1911. The mournful-sounding horns, naturally, blew in salute to the ship as it made its trial voyage from the Harland and Wolff shipyard.
But now the lighthouse, this masterpiece of Victorian engineering, is at the centre of a controversy.
The building, maintained by the Commissioners of Irish Lights, plans to replace the traditional sweeping beam with a static light-emitting diode (LED).
The glow that can be seen from over the horizon is known as ‘the loom of the light’, and critics say the loom will now be lessened.
However the commissioners are clear that it’s for the best. They’re going ahead with an engineering upgrade 2021-23 — subject to approval by the planning authorities. The works are necessary, the commissioners say, in order to deliver ‘a better quality, environmentallysuperior service’. But it’s all being carefully planned to ensure that the heritage aspects of St John’s lighthouse are substantially retained. Irish Lights began consultation on this project in 2014. Captain Robert McCabe, director of coastal operations with Irish Lights, told this column: ‘Over the course of the last six years, we have taken on board suggestions gathered from public consultations and responded by coming up with an innovative solution which allows us to retain the historic Fresnel lens at St John’s Point. . .
‘Following the successful completion of a three-year trial of new technology we now have a mechanical engineering solution to support us in removing mercury from the lighthouses.
‘The lens currently rotates on a bath of mercury — which is acknowledged as a highly toxic substance.
‘Irish Lights, along with our sister authorities in England, Wales and Scotland, are in the process of removing mercury from their lighthouses for health and safety reasons. The replacement of the 1,000 Watt lamps with a modern LED light source (90 Watts), will allow for the discontinuation of diesel generators and their replacement with more environmentally friendly technology.’
ASIDE from the Titanic connection, St John’s Lighthouse has another footnote in history, this time literary. The lighthouse is the site of the alleged encounter between Brendan Behan and his employer from Irish Lights.
Brendan was employed to paint the lighthouse but after a liquid lunch bedded down for a snooze, as you do.
The principle lighthouse keeper on site, one Mr D Blakely, addressed the almost comatose Dublin man saying, ‘Ah, sleep on Behan, enjoy your dozing away for now. For when you awake ye’ll have no job.’
That’s one version of the story. Another, according to local paper The Down Recorder, is that Mr Blakely was horrified by Behan’s behaviour from start to finish.
Retired local lighthouse keeper Henry Henvey, a teenager at the time became friendly with Behan. According to him, Mr Blakely described him as ‘the worst specimen’ he’d had to work with in 30 years with Irish Lights, adding that his language was filthy and his personal habits disgusting. Mr Blakely duly penned a letter to his boss, calling for Behan’s immediate dismissal.