Oregon's Haunting Lighthouses: Spooked or Not?
Interesting Artical
TO ME, THE ROCK ISLAND LOOKS A PALM OF A HAND AND THE FINGER TIPS ARE HOLDING THE LIGHTHOUSE!
The thumb is towards the top of the photo.
(OrigniaI photo, didn't change it, see other photos below.)
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| Tillamook Rock Lighthouse as seen from above. |
(Oregon Coast) - They inspire imaginations, impart mystery and create an ever-widening array of emotions and dreamy notions. And many of them may or may not be haunted.
Four of the five lighthouses on the upper half of Oregon's coast are some of the most legendary. Indeed, one - the Heceta Head Lighthouse, near Florence - is the most photographed lighthouse in the world. The others are the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse and the Yaquina Head Lighthouse in Newport, the lighthouse atop Cape Lookout (near Tillamook), and the Tillamook Rock Lighthouse, a mile offshore from Seaside and Cannon Beach.
All but Cape Meares’ light have some tales of ghosties surrounding them, in various incarnations. But even Cape Meares Lighthouse has an eerie past to delve into. For the others, these tales of hauntings intertwine tightly with the buildings’ histories, making for some lively discussions and research.
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| Tillamook Rock lighthouse in its heyday. |
Tillamook Rock Lighthouse
This is one lighthouse that has never been accessible to the public and probably never will be. Thus, it sparks the imagination more than most, with mysterious silhouette lying more than a mile away.
Indeed, the truth behind this lighthouse is weirder than fiction itself – or any of its ghost tales, for that matter.
It began in the 1880’s, when it was decided that too many ships were meeting their demise at Tillamook Head and this part of the north coast. It was eventually planned for the blob of basalt rock offshore rather than Tillamook Head itself, as fog or other blind spots on the headland would create visibility problems.
Things didn’t start well. The first man to step on the rock to do some surveying drowned, creating an immediate public outcry that perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.
It took a lot of blasting to flatten the top of the rock enough to build the lighthouse. Then, construction crews had to endure insane conditions, living under soggy tents and enormous waves that constantly knocked at them.
The crews lived in rotating shifts on the rock, and there were so many casualties in these conditions that men waiting onshore to work there were actually sequestered away from the public and from talk of what went on there. They were housed in a remote spot on the southern Washington coast and later on a ship just offshore.
Lightkeepers lived there in shifts too: four of them, usually a few months at a time. It was a brutal existence, and one keeper reportedly went mad from the solitude.
A giant winch was used to bring supplies and personnel from visiting ships to the rock, which was a dangerous and unwieldy endeavor under even the best conditions. They were put inside an object called a breeches buoy – which is essentially a giant pair of pants encircled by a floatation ring, attached to the cables overheard. Numerous men were lost doing this.
The place was ripe for ghost stories. It didn’t help that local tribes purportedly said it was inhabited by evil spirits.
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| Photo courtesty Seaside Aquarium |
There are rumors of ghost tales over the years, including the claims of voices heard over the din of storms from lens area and other dark parts of the lighthouse. Sometimes, stories about ghost ships appearing in the fog and drifting past are associated with the place as well, but usually these have foundations in actual events involving near misses from real ships.
Indeed, a ship called the Lupatia nearly hit the lighthouse in dense fog, but was warned away just in time. However, it did soon after slam into Tillamook Head, killing all aboard except the ship’s dog.
One legend says that you can sometimes still hear the dog howl in the night near Tillamook Head.
Another almost spooky tale from the lighthouse comes from a keeper who felt something brush past his face in the dark while lying in bed. All of a sudden, he heard strange footsteps in the pitch black, and after a time, bolted towards the light switch, arms swinging wildly in an attempt to smack whatever being – or trespasser – was there. When he turned on the light, he found only an injured bird that had somehow made its way into his bedroom. The odd footsteps were its broken wing hitting the floor.
The lighthouse was decommissioned in 1957, with the last keeper, Oswald Allik, proclaiming “I return thee to the elements.”
In the 80’s, after numerous failed ownerships, a firm called Eternity at Sea bought the property, and it now serves as a columbarium – a place for ashes of the dead.
Rather comically, that firm ran ads in the early 90’s or so offering free satellite TV for life – if you reserved your resting place early. Presumably, they figured if you were making such arrangements you wouldn’t be around too long.