The Historic Site of Twin Lights
September 5th, 2024
Serene is the word I would use to describe the drive down Ocean Avenue; it’s a straight line with sea views. As I drove towards the historic site of Twin Lights, with Ocean Ave morphing into Highland Avenue, I thought, wow, what beauty can be found within such close reach! I was on an adventure and nothing could shake my excitement to reach the place that I had been reading about for several days.
That is until I turned my wheel left onto Light House Road, and was met with what is possibly the steepest road known to man. A surge of fear flashed through my body as my eyes followed the vertical trajectory of the path. I could not, however, let this little (large) bump get in my way. I am a woman that does things that scare me! I am a woman that will make it up this hill! I am a woman that is now sitting in the middle of the road frozen in indecision, and actually, legally, must move out of the way. And so, I pressed my foot down on the gas and prayed that no one would be driving the opposite way. Thankfully, it being a random Thursday afternoon in September, there were not too many visitors and I made it in peace.
I began my journey around the site of Twin Lights with Spermaceti Cove. Spermaceti Cove was built on Sandy Hook and relocated to its current location in 1955. Of all the lifesaving mechanisms that were on display and/or written about in this exhibit, one stuck with me the most: the “Breeches Buoy.” I highly recommend looking up a picture of this invention. Lifesaving stations, such as Spermaceti Cove, were spread along the coastline of New Jersey and functioned on a volunteer basis until the formation of the United States Life Saving Service in 1878. In 1915, this service merged with the Revenue Cutter Service to form the United States Coast Guard. So, the Coast Guard has its origins in volunteers and breeches, which is pretty cool to me.
Emerging from the cove, I came face to face with the North Tower. Or, at least, the new and improved North Tower. The original “twin lights” – identical octagonal towers made out of blue split stone – were built in 1828 by Charles Hewitt Smith, however, they were structurally unsound and had to be rebuilt in 1862. I attended a lecture at my local library a few days after my visit, where Professor Richard Veit, PhD of Monmouth University presented findings on his 2023 archeological dig at Twin Lights. He and his team uncovered the foundation of the original South Tower, and discovered that about half of this structure was constructed thoughtfully, while the other half was haphazardly thrown together.
The “new” and improved lighthouses designed by Joseph Lederle are made out of brownstone mined from quarries in Belleville, New Jersey. Importantly, these lighthouses are NOT twins! The North Tower is octagonal, staying true to the original shape, while the South Tower is rectangular. Some say this is because this design resembles the insignia of the Army Corps of Engineers, while others say it’s because Lederle wanted to add his own distinctive flair. My very serious hypothesis is that Joseph Lederle had a mission to bring awareness to the existence of fraternal twins.
At the top of the North Tower there is a glorious view of the Sandy Hook Bay, the New York Harbor, and the Atlantic Ocean. These towers are short for their species since the land that they were built on is already high above sea level, so the climb to the stop is only a few steps of spiraling stairs. If it’s on your bucket list to climb a lighthouse, but you’re doubting your cardio abilities – Twin Lights is the place to go. The only thing is, and many signs will warn you as you climb, you must be careful not to bump your head.
Housed inside a building on the other side of the site is the 10-ton bivalve lens that was installed in the South Tower in 1898. This lens was displayed at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair and was designed by Henry Lapaute’s optical glass company in Paris, France. Technically, the light was only supposed to reach 22 nautical miles, but there are reports of it being seen from 70 nautical miles away. The trick to this impressive feat is the bivalve-shape, rather than a beehive- shape, which allows for a more concentrated stream of light. For anyone interested in optics and/or energy sources, this is a great section of the museum to spend some time in. This room is also where I began talking to the historian at Twin Lights, Nick Wood.
I learned many things in my brief conversation with Nick – who is, of course, extremely knowledgeable about Twin Lights. I was particularly curious about the middle section of the building, where the lighthouse keeper, assistants, and their families lived. He told me that it was uncommon for lighthouses to have such large living quarters. From what I’ve heard about working as a lighthouse keeper (my sources mostly being tidbits from friends who have watched Robert Eggers’ 2019 film The Lighthouse), I think the more the merrier.
Speaking of lighthouse keepers, I enjoyed the display inside the museum that listed out all of the Twin Lights keepers in chronological order. One keeper that stood out was James D. Hubbard, who was criticized for the abysmal condition of the lighthouse during his time there. When interviewed about what went wrong, he claimed that he had received absolutely no training or instruction to be a lighthouse keeper. Which begs the question: how did he get this job? What lies did he tell on his resume? I think most would say that this is a lesson in knowing your limits, and it is for the most part, however, it’s also a lesson to reach for the stars. You may fail, but hey, you tried.
In honor of Gugliemo Marconi sending the first wireless telegraph from the site of Twin Lights in 1899 (he was reporting on America's Cup to the New York Herald) there is a small Morse Code exhibit at the end of the museum. I pressed the button, and a loud sound was produced, so I immediately walked into the next room and pretended that it never happened. At the gift shop, I bought the Lighthouse Passport that Nick had told me about and had a lovely chat with another staff member, Bob. We chatted about New Jersey history and – as every conversation between two Jersey Shore locals leads to: Bruce Springsteen.
To end my visit, I climbed the South Tower. The top of the tower, where the lens would have been held was open to the public. As I looked out the windows, I thought about how cool it is that people care so much about sharing stories from the past. I think it’s really easy for me to get lost in thinking about the future, especially right now being in my early 20s and having no idea how to navigate adulthood, so focusing on what’s around me has been a nice grounding force. An anchor, perhaps, if we’re sticking to the nautical theme. Which we are! After my visit to Twin Lights, I feel like the area around me feels more alive and laced with opportunities to connect with people and learn. I can’t wait to explore more lighthouses along the coast.
P.S. – Afterwards I stopped by a cafe in Highlands called “Farmacie,” which is an extension of the French Market. I had a delicious lemon bar and cafe au lait, so if you make a visit to Twin Lights, be sure to stop there on your way back home or onto your next destination!
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