We arrive at Whitby Lighthouse on a clear spring day only slightly late for our drone flying training. Lighthouse Maintenance Engineers Andrew and Andy are already there—they had the privilege of staying at the lighthouse cottages overnight— and so Senior Building Surveyor Matthew and I are relegated to the bottom of the class.
We take our drones to the skies, and it’s not long before we are cutting through the air with figures of eight and emergency manoeuvres, all against a backdrop of cliffs, sheep and a mid-19th century lighthouse.
It’s twins!
When Trinity House laid the foundation in the spring of 1857, Whitby Lighthouse was once one half of a pair of leading lights. Whitby North and Whitby South—two octagonal brick towers crowned with 1st Order optics from the esteemed Chance Brothers company—stood high over the coastline together for three decades. Their fixed lights when lined up would help mariners mark Whitby Rock, an unseen threat in dark waters.
1890 saw Trinity House fit the Whitby South tower with a more efficient light – a decision which was the death knell for Whitby North. With a red sector now shining out over Whitby Rock from the South tower, its twin was demolished and its optic re-used elsewhere.
In its place, Trinity House erected a fog signal in 1903 to warn mariners of the jagged coastline. Operated by compressed air from 25-horsepower oil engines, trumpets 20 feet in length blasted out to sea four times every 90 seconds.
Known colloquially as ‘Hawsker Bull’, the fog signal ceased operation in 1987 and has sat silent ever since.
167 years later and the remaining Whitby Lighthouse tower has stood guard, leading mariners to and from Whitby Harbour. Lighthouse keepers presided over the light until Trinity House automated the station in 1992. A way of life now lost to the annals of time.
Or so you might think!
To the lighthouse born
Mark Sythes has been attendant of Whitby Lighthouse since 1995. But Mark isn’t any regular member of the public thrown into the world of lighthouse keeping by happenstance. No - Mark has lighthouse keeping in his veins.
As the son of a Trinity House Principal Keeper (known as a PK), Mark’s stint at Whitby began long before he was made attendant. I was lucky enough to speak to Mark while I was on station.
In 1972, PK Desmond Sythes arrived at Whitby Lighthouse with his young family in tow.
Mark: There were three keepers living on site, and there was what they called a local keeper. The keepers that were stationed here, they all had families, mostly. Our cottage, and the one next door, and then down at the fog signal.
It was a bit harder for them down there [at the fog signal]. I always remember one keeper coming to live there with his family, and he was a joiner. So, he built shelving all around the kitchen, and his wife put plates all around the walls on these shelves.
But as soon as the fog signal started, every plate just fell off the wall.
Born at St Bees Lighthouse, Mark spent his childhood running around stations along the coast. At Whitby, he attended school in town alongside the other lighthouse children, and he would come home to a lively station.
Mark: There was someone on watch 24 hours a day, keeping the light on in the nighttime, then putting the fog signal on during the day.
And that was the old routines as well, with paraffin and that, they used to have to unload the wagons and pump them out of the barrels and put them into the tanks as well.
Everyone got on here mostly. You had the odd quibbles because there used to a shopping taxi on a Friday. That was the main shopping taxi for the wives, and they used to go down at 10 o’clock, but that would sometimes cause arguments. But it was very rare, normally everyone got on alright. And Christmases and that stuff, we used to come into people’s houses and have drinks and all that.
Hail or shine, the light needed to be tended.
Mark: We would get bad winters, you used to get cut off as well, because the hill, what you’ve just come down near the fog signal, I’ve known it level with snow. You had to try and dig it out. One time we got snowed in; it took about three days to get out with the help of a tractor to clear it all.
A lot of the older keepers knew how to stockpile stuff in case anything like that happened. They kept backups if you were lucky enough to have freezers, and hopefully you wouldn’t get a power cut.
I’ve also known it here for about a month and a half with fog just stuck to this coastline. You’d go past the fog signal and there’d be brilliant sunshine. But the fog would stay on the coast just here.
Although PK Desmond and his family left the lighthouse in 1989, Mark’s path brought him back to Whitby, but not after some lighthouse adventures of his own! As a Supernumerary Assistant Keeper (SAK), Mark would be called up to provide relief for keepers across the country.
Mark: I did about 19 stations all together, travelling around. And I was lucky to get out to Gibraltar for three months as well, so that was a highlight for me. There were so many keepers that did this work alongside me. There was always someone on holiday or off sick so we would have to travel around. The longest I was away for was three months. Then you get about a week or two weeks home, and then I was away again. But that didn’t bother me because I enjoyed the job that much.
When they started shutting the lighthouses down, we did a month on and month off. I was stationed at Trevose Head Lighthouse, I did that for about two years.
The opportunity to be attendant for Whitby Lighthouse came along in 1995. Mark took up the work, and in 2009, Flamborough Head Lighthouse also came under his responsibility.
Mark: I don’t do as many duties as [the keepers] used to. It’s just the general maintenance, testing the lights, call outs for alarms. Technology has got better now, so it is very rare to get call outs. I turn up about every three months and do bits and pieces. Since the LED bulbs were put in, you just test the lamps now. Before you had to run engines and test all the batteries.
Mark takes me around the lighthouse, pointing out his bedroom window in the cottages attached to the tower. He pulls out the logbook for maintenance activities at the lighthouse – a register he continues to update to this day.
Down in the base of the tower, Mark shows me where, between keeping watch, his father would paint stunning pieces of maritime life.
Popular culture may glorify lighthouse keepers living in isolated stations – and for many this was certainly the case! However, Mark’s memories pay homage to the fact, for some keepers, lighthouses were family homes.
As I say farewell to Mark and Whitby, I ponder on how these lighthouses have stood, not just as guides for mariners, but as silent witnesses to the lives and families that have grown around them.
I also plot how I can steal aboard THV Patricia to see some of PK Desmond’s paintings we have hanging on the walls.