Trifter

If the United States is guilty of only one unpardonable sin, it is pride. Here, there is an appeal to being the fastest, richest, quickest, or even the tallest. And when you are, you are proud of it. In the realm of masonry lighthouses, the honor of the tallest can be given to the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, located on the shoreline of the North Carolina Outer Banks, just outside the town of Buxton. Originally listed at 208 feet, recent measurements place the height of the spire two additional feet higher than that when compared to mean sea level. This behemoth of a signal tips the scales at 2,800 tons. In the proud words of Mel Brooks: “It’s good to be the king.”

Being the best, however, often means that you have to face trials. No one runs a world record 100 meter dash their first time. The Cape Hatteras Lighthouse is no exception to this rule.

The story of this monster begins in 1797, 73 years before its actual construction. By then, the young Congress of the United States realized the need for aids to ships passing through and near the Diamond Shoals off the coast of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. Within six years, the original lighthouse had been completed. At that time, the lighthouse stood one mile inland from the ocean. This, combined with a dismal 90 feet of height, made the lighthouse inadequate from the start.

Over 50 years, not much was done to improve the initial Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. In 1854, the height was increased to 150 feet and a first-order Fresnel lens, the best available at the time, was installed. Even with the improvements, the lighthouse was mostly ineffective. By the time the 1860’s were becoming the 1870’s, the sandstone structure was beginning to show growing cracks. The recommendation was that a new lighthouse would be needed.

By December of 1870, the structure still recognized today as the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was completed. Located 1,500 feet from the shoreline, it was painted with the trademark black and white candy-cane design still used today. Due to this distinctive daymark, the new lighthouse soon found itself to be a landmark of the North Carolina coast. The original 150-foot lighthouse was destroyed, but little was done to remove the rubble that remained.

Barrier islands, like the Outer Banks, are by design among the most unstable landmasses on the surface of the earth. Ocean tides, often driven by storms, erode the beaches that face out to sea. Meanwhile, sand is deposited on the beaches that face the protected sound, causing a general migration of the entire island toward the mainland. Stationary structures like lighthouses find themselves creeping inch by inch closer to the shoreline. By 1919, the ocean had reached within 300 feet of the base of the Hatteras Lighthouse.

By the early 1930’s, measures were being taken to save the lighthouse from eventually falling into the ocean. Walls were installed to protect the lighthouse, but were mostly ineffective. Nine hundred feet of interlocking steel sheet pile “groins” were installed along the beach in 1930. More were installed in 1933. Still with all the work, the ocean waves were within 100 feet of the lighthouse by 1935.

The U.S. Coast Guard had been in control of the lighthouse up until 1936. Due to the ongoing futile efforts to preserve safety of the tower, they then transferred the deed to the National Park Service and abandoned the Hatteras Lighthouse. A steel skeleton lighthouse was erected one mile west in Buxton Woods to take over the function of the then decommissioned light.

Mother Nature has a way of being not only devastating, but also fickle. The Grand Old Mother decided to play pranks on the Outer Banks, easing up on the shoreline, and consequently the shoreline erosion, over the next decade. By 1950, the erosion seemed to stabilize, and the Coast Guard re-commissioned the lighthouse under a special permit granted by the National Park Service. However, shore erosion problems returned, and in 1966 three hundred twelve thousand cubic yards of sand were moved from the Pamlico Sound to the beach in Buxton. Like a sleeping giant, Mother Nature awoke with fury, almost as if she were appalled by the feeble, man-made attempts to defy her. The sand from the sound, made of much finer particles than the sand at Buxton, was quickly eroded into the sea.

It is said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Over the next twenty years, Ma Nature unleashed hell on the Outer Banks. In 1967, large nylon sandbags, some that still remain today, were placed in front of the lighthouse to slow the erosion, to little effect. Two years later, the U.S. Navy placed three concrete reinforced groins to protect not only the lighthouse, but also their naval facility. You could say that Mother Nature was showing a little of her pride. You could also say that she was not impressed. Beach erosion continued, and the lighthouse continued to inch closer to the sea.

In 1971 it was back to earth moving, when two hundred thousand cubic yards of sand were moved from the Cape Hatteras Point to the beach by the lighthouse. In 1973, and additional 1.3 million cubic yards were added. By this time, the ocean waves were back to within 175 feet of the ruins of the original lighthouse, located only 600 feet from its “little” brother. The ocean finally reached the ruins in 1978 and began to slowly wear away the sandstone foundation. They would be washed away in 1980 when Mother Nature unleashed a freak March blizzard on the Outer Banks.

The Cape Hatteras Lighthouse did not escape that March without a scratch. The blizzard forced ocean water around and behind the anchor point of the southern most groin, which was the closest to the lighthouse. With this intrusion, high tide waves were able to flow in behind the steel and get to the much softer sand dunes. Every wave took more sand off the beach. As an emergency measure, rubble was placed as a substitute for the dunes in October. November saw the extension of southern groin by 150 feet. Mother Nature saw to it that the waters washed around the end of the newly extended groin one month later. Ocean waters reached within 50 feet of the base. A second emergency protection project was able to extend this to 100 feet by the end of the year.

By nature, humans are creative. The early 1980’s saw several creative, but futile, attempts to protect the shoreline. In 1981, seascapes were dropped offshore in shallow water. Hollow gravel-filled tubes, they are designed to catch and hold sand particles suspended in the water. By doing this, a sandbar is created, helping to protect and build the beach. More rubble, two separate 150 foot groin extensions, 700 additional sandbags, and 5,000 units of seascape placed in late 1981 and 1982 still did not prove enough to protect the lighthouse. The Corps of Engineers played their part, designing a scour protection mat to enhance the southern groin and prevent additional ocean flanking. By the end of 1983, studies were being conducted on the feasibility of placing a seawall to encircle the lighthouse.

Even with all of the protective measures, the lighthouse was only 120 feet from the ocean by 1987. Originally, it had stood inland 1,500 feet. The “Move the Lighthouse Committee” secured funding and presented documentation for relocation, which relied heavily on technology not previously available. A year later, the final decision was made: The lighthouse should be moved.

The moved was mapped out, and the final sight was being developed. In 1990 and 1991, the structural integrity of the building was repaired, allowing it to withstand the rigors of being moved. Meanwhile, sandbags were put in place for temporary protection. This would occur again in 1994 after Hurricane Gordon passes within 100 miles of the Cape Hatteras area, and again in 1996 to prevent further erosion that would make the move impossible.

On June 17th, 1999, the time for the move had come. Eight hundred tons of granite base were replaced with steel support towers and hydraulic jacks. The jacks lifted the structure six feet, allowing addition steel support beams to be installed as a temporary foundation. The sand of the beach was compacted and covered with crushed stone. Steel mats were then placed to form a temporary roadway for the lighthouse to move across. Five additional hydraulic jacks were uses to propel the lighthouse inch by inch toward its new home. The tower moved at less than 10 feet per hour. Once it arrived, it was lowered onto a new concrete foundation.

The Lighthouse was moved 2,900 feet. It arrived on July 9th, three weeks ahead of schedule. The move was named the 2000 Outstanding Civil Engineering Achievement by the American Society of Civil Engineers. More importantly, it seems to have even impressed Mother Nature… for now.

Still operated by the National Park Service and maintained by the U.S. Coast Guard, the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse is open for climbing most of the year. Note that children fewer than 42 inches tall will not be allowed to climb the lighthouse, even with parental supervision. Be prepared for a workout, as the 248 spiral stairs equate to climbing a 12-story building with no air conditioning. In short, it is hot, humid, dim, and quite noisy. If you can make it, the view is well worth the effort. For more information, contact the National Park Service at 252-473-2111 or visit them on the web at National Park Service website.

Don’t be afraid. It’s only 248 steps to the top. Then you can say, with pride, that you’ve climbed the tallest.