Tooter Sleeps Under It.
What does the man who blows it say? He sleeps right under it, only he doesn’t sleep, and has to stuff cotton in his ears to keep his eardrums intact. And he says, this Assistant Keep A. E. Pierce who does that blowing, he says, “It’s hell.”
Beyond that he dare not say, because a paragraph in the rule book says he mustn’t. Instead he takes this landlubber who asks so many questions up on the platform beside the horn. Then he goes inside a minute.
There is a hiss of air, a shriek, a bellow, that cracks in the middle and bangs a devilish roar. The whole lighthouse shakes.
“We don’t blow unless we have to,” says Mr. Pierce and the limp landlubber is ready to agree.
Out at the Chicago Harbor station, the rule is to blow when for or smoke obscures the Carter Harrison and the four-mile crib.
What the Mariners Say.
And then the inquirer seeks information from a couple of mariners, Capt. Lee Sobota of the launch U.S.A., for one, and Roy Christensen of the Longfellow, and a gentleman who is better known as “Barney” on the lakes.
They are among those who scoff at the few hours of sleep lost by the soft citizens on land and they tell tales of the lakes, and the fogs that creep in before you know it.
Capt. Sobota begins:
“It was right after the horn was put in. Now, you see, the old steam horn they had could be heard only seven miles out, But this one, she’s a humdinger.
We were out in the lake fishing. A swell came up and a big wave travelled inboard and smashed the compass box. Well, along comes a heavy fog a-smokin’ in, so thick you could hardly see to talk. And we was twenty miles off shore. With the old horn we’d have been in trouble. But this new one—say, way out there we heard it, and we followed it right in, neat as you please.”
“That’s right,” says Skipper Christensen. “Damn right,” echoes Barney.
This Man Recommended It.
Milwaukee and Capt. Charles H. Hubbard, superintendent of the twelfth lighthouse district of Lake Michigan and Georgian Bay, is the next port of call. The captain proves to be a man who’s sailed all his life, and whose knowledge of every danger of the lake is surpassed only by his courtesy.
It was his recommendation that had the horns installed.
“I recommended them because they were needed. Ship masters asked for them for a long time, especially the one at Chicago Harbor light. The breakwaters leave only a 450 foot passage for ships.
All the water near shore from Grosse Point south is foul with reefs. The old horn wasn’t loud enough.
Secondly, the diaphone horn is much more economical of operation. Lastly, it is the most modern and efficient horn. To have failed to install it at this important point would have been equivalent to a soldier’s refusing rifle, machine gun, and gas mask, and sticking to sword and shield.
I am sorry that the horn disturbs people on land, but I ask them to think of the men on the lakes. In summer, from fifteen to twenty big ships and scores of smaller vessels pass the harbor light every day. In winter, from three to five large ships pass by daily.
Blows When It’s Smoky.
Some of the writers to Vox Pop have doubted there was fog when the horn was blowing. Capt. Hubbard answers this:
“In the first place, it’s smoke usually, not fog. During May, the horn was blown only twice for fog. The other fifty hours or so were for the smoke that drifts north from as far as Gary and settles over the lake. Then, it may be bright ashore, but hazy on the lake. To prove this, Capt. Hubbard produced figures showing that the Pierhead light, seven-eights of a mile nearer shore, had to ring its fog bell less than half the number of hours that the harbor light had to blow its horn.
We had the same complaints at Manistique and Manitowoc when we put diaphones there. Now they are used to them and welcome them as aids to the men out on the lake. You can say that we hope to eliminate some of the noise. We are hoping to be able to put horns on the cribs, which will enable us to cut down the power of the one on the lighthouse. I hope we can, for we don’t like to bother the citizens. But until we can, people ashore must remember that there are men on the lake at all hours. There have been other wrecks since the Lady Elgin crashed into the schooner Augusta back in 1860.
The most modern aids aren’t too good.”
Washington Works for Harmony.
Then the quest turned to Washington, D.C., and invaded the office of George R. Putnam, commissioner of lighthouses of the department of commerce. He has received scores of complaints. Yesterday he began an official investigation of the question of whether the citizens’ nerves and the sailors’ safety could be harmonized.
In the hands of Commissioner Putnam and Secretary Hoover, alone, rests the power to change the horn.
“I sympathize with the people who have to listen to the horn,” said Mr. Putnam, “but a foghorn seems to be the only possible method of warning ships on the lake. Ship owners say that a horn is necessary at that point. That is a question, however, which will be investigated.”
In the meanwhile if it’s foggy tonight or the smoke drifts in from Gary, remember that that terrible broken-in-the-middle hoot is only type F."
More Information:
To learn more and see a demonstration of the powerful Type F Diaphone sound signal, visit this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TO3vp0Sh-wE&ab_channel=LighthouseJake
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