Battery Point Crescent City, CA

In 1855, the ship America burned in the harbor at Crescent City. Three cannons were salvaged from the wreckage and mounted nearby on the point at the northern side of the harbor's entrance. The cannons, which were often fired during Fourth of July celebrations, resulted in the point being named Battery Point.
A second event occurred that same year that would result in another addition to the point. In May of 1855, Congress appropriated $15,000 for the construction of a lighthouse on the tiny islet, which is connected to Battery Point by an isthmus at low tide. Although not included in the 1852 contract for the first eight west coast lighthouses, the Battery Point Lighthouse was actually lit ten days before the Humboldt Harbor Lighthouse, the last of the original eight to become operational. The lighthouse, like most of the original eight, was built in a Cape Cod style, with the tower located in the center of the dwelling. The fourth-order Fresnel lens in the lantern room first illuminated the night sky at Crescent City on December 10, 1856.

The first official keeper, Theophilis Magruder, arrived at the lighthouse fifteen days after it was first lit. A temporary keeper had been employed until Magruder could arrive. Magruder's starting salary was $1,000 per year. He subsequently received a 40% pay cut, which prompted his resignation.

John Jeffrey became keeper of the light in 1875, during the time when the lighthouse's future was uncertain. Jeffrey and his wife Nellie served for nearly forty years at the station, and for part of that time, Nellie was employed as the first assistant keeper. They raised four children at the station, and the life must have been somewhat agreeable as their son also entered into the lighthouse service, taking an assignment at the Oakland Harbor Lighthouse. Once the tide is in, making it to shore is extremely difficult. Impossible without a moterboat and very dangerous even with. Therefore, the boathouse doubled as "schoolhouse" for the four children.With its exposed location atop a rocky mound, the lighthouse is often battered by storms. Waves will wash over the islet and strike the lighthouse. One rogue wave broke three panes of glass in the lantern room and deposited water in the tower. Another time, a huge wave knocked over the old wood burning cook stove starting a fire. While the keepers ran for buckets of water, another wave hit and put the fire out!

Remarkably, the lighthouse received no damage when Crescent City received the worst tsunami damage ever suffered along the west coast of the lower forty-eight states. On March 27, 1964, the strongest earthquake ever recorded in the northern hemisphere with a moment magnitude of 9.2 struck Alaska near Prince William Sound. A series of waves generated by the earthquake raced south at a speed of nearly 600 m.p.h. and reached Crescent City around midnight with crests of up to twenty feet.
Clarence and Peggy Coons were living in the lighthouse when the waves arrived. Peggy awoke a little before midnight to use the bathroom, and upon looking out the window noted an extremely high tide in the harbor that was illuminated by a nearly full moon. She roused her husband. They quickly dressed and then hurried outside the lighthouse in time to witness the first waves pummel Crescent City. The following is Peggy's account after the third wave had flooded the city:

The water withdrew as if someone had pulled the plug. It receded a distance of three-quarters of a mile from the shore. We were looking down, as though from a high mountain, into a black abyss. It was a mystical labyrinth of caves, canyons, basins, and pits, undreamed of in the wildest of fantasies. The basin was sucked dry...In the distance, a black wall of water was rapidly building up, evidenced by a flash of white as the edge of the boiling and seething seawater reflected the moonlight. Then the mammoth wall of water came barreling towards us. It was a terrifying mass, stretching up from the ocean floor and looking much higher than the island. Clarence shouted, "Let's head for the tower!" - but it was too late. "Look out!" he yelled and we both ducked as the water struck, split and swirled over both sides of the island. It struck with such force and speed that we felt we were being carried along with the ocean. It took several minutes before we realized that the island hadn't moved. When the tsunami assaulted the shore, it was like a violent explosion. A thunderous roar mingled with all the confusion. Everywhere we looked buildings, cars, lumber, and boats shifted around like crazy. The whole beachfront moved, changing before our very eyes. By this time, the fire had spread to the Texaco bulk tanks. They started exploding one after another, lighting up the sky. It was spectacular! It still seems hard to believe that with all the salvage that floated by us out to sea, the only bit to reach the island was one spool of lavender thread.
Eleven people in Crescent City were killed by the tsunami. Twenty-one boats were destroyed in the harbor, and ninety-one homes in town were damaged. The total cost of all the destruction was in excess of seven million dollars.

I was not raised by the sea and have not been a big fan of it prior to this trip. However, I fell in love with this place and it's stories. We were not allowed to take pictures inside the lighthouse--but I can tell you that I think I could live there. It was small, but so cozy and I loved the view! I also love the reminder that while the storm may surround us, our strength comes from the light that burns within.