California

The Point Reyes Light Station held a reputation for many years as one of the less desirable assignments on the west coast. A combination of wind, fog and darkness, the unrelenting fog signal, the immense set of stairs, not to mention isolation and poor wages, took a severe toll on the keepers and their assistants. Incidents of insanity, alcoholism, violence and insubordination plagued the station during its first half-century of operation. Not until modern conveniences arrived, such as better roads, transportation and electrical power, did the working conditions improve to any extent.

Point Reyes, historically named Punta de los Reyes, is an odd-shaped peninsula that protrudes into the Pacific Ocean about 35 miles northwest of San Francisco. The peninsula forms a triangle with Tomales Point on the north, Bolinas Point on the south, and the most prominent, Point Reyes, on the west. The peninsula is characterized by rolling hills covered by grass, brush or forest and surrounded by beaches.

Earlier, at Pt. Arena, upon hearing that BM1 O'Neal of the Pt. Cabrillo Station was to be transferred, Bill had put in a request for that station. In order to permit this request, the classifications of the two light stations had to be changed. Pt. Arena had been a part civilian unit, and Pt. Cabrillo all military; they reversed the classifications for the stations, and granted Bill's request. There were two other military units in the Pt. Arena area: the Loran Station and the Lifeboat Station.

On December 20, 1983, Lightship 612 picked up her anchor and sailed off into oblivion. As she departed Nantucket Station, a curtain fell on the last of the little red ships and over 160 years of tradition. As often happens, traditions are relegated to dusty shelves and soon forgotten. I suspect there are young sailors out there who never saw a lightship and even some that never heard of one. For me, the passing of this era held a special meaning and a little sadness.

On July 1, 1937, we started north again, hiring a truck to take our furniture. Since the transfer was at Bill's request, we had to pay for transportation of our household effects. We went through several small towns before arriving at San Francisco, then we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge which had been completed the year before. The road was not too bad until we passed Jenner. In 1937, the Jenner Grade hardly seemed like a highway. It was fortunate we were driving during summer; in winter it was often closed because of slides.

We arrived at Pt. Sur Light Station on March 11, 1935. At that time, our family consisted of my husband Bill, myself and our five children: Shirley-seven, Sarah-six, Dixie-three, and the year-old twins, Jean and Joan. The ride was not nearly as long as our ride from San Francisco to Pt. Conception Light Station, where Bill began his service. The road from San Luis Obispo was unfinished and we had to circle around through Monterey and south to Pt. Sur, travelling partly on Highway 1 and partly on Highway 101. We had been expected, so the station gate was unlocked.

The coast of California sweeps along a giant curve for nearly 1,000 miles. It is dimpled with very few harbors of refuge and punctuated with a few promontories which mariners have bumped into over the years. For much of the summer months the intercoast is enveloped in a dense fog. This climatic condition, coupled with prevailing winds and currents that set vessels to the southwest, and onto the coast, has caused countless shipwrecks. It was especially so prior to the 20th century, during the age of sail and before electronic navigation devices.

 A keeper's wife, from 1931 until her husband's retirement in 1963, Cora Owens shares her story of life with Bill Owens, the last civilian lighthouse keeper on the west coast. The Owens family lived on four stations, growing from a small family to one which became famous, as Bill was known as the "Keeper with six daughters." The time of Bill Owens' service encompassed the Depression, a World War and the transition of the Lighthouse Service from a civilian agency to branch of a military service, the Coast Guard. 

My lighthouse Service employment started in 1927 at the age of 19. I was encouraged by my brother-in-law who was the cook on the Lightship San Francisco (LV 70), an old coal burner. He started his career as a fireman serving six weeks on board with two weeks shore leave. Although he knew nothing about cooking when he applied he learned in a hurry with the help of his wife (my sister) and the arm load of cook books he took aboard. He became an excellent cook.