In 2019, director Robert Eggers released the critically acclaimed picture The Lighthouse, a psychological thriller illuminating the grim reality of manning a lighthouse and its horrifying impact on the human psyche. Lighthouse keeping is the most remote occupation on earth, with keepers spending years stranded on the coast, incessantly bombarded with waves and violent storms. Although most lighthouse incidents involve drownings and hurricanes, there are many accounts of suicide and mysterious disappearances. Often, the sheer solitude and stress of the job induces an overwhelming sense of madness within the keepers, diluting their judgment and logic.
Case Studies:
The most disturbing and infamous lighthouse mystery is the story of the Flannan Isles and the simultaneous disappearance of its three keepers on December 15, 1900. Eleven days after the date of disappearance, relieving keeper Joseph More disembarked on Eilean Mor to find an abandoned station, the only evidence of life being an uneaten bowl of breakfast.
The keepers were stationed on the island of Eilean Mòr, the highest and most remote in the chain. At the time of disappearance, the lighthouse had been operational for 101 years, with no prior incidents. Stationed atop a cliff, the complex featured a white brick tower enclosed by a stone barricade. A narrow path stretched from the apex of the cliff down to the shore on the opposite end of the island. With its position in the North Atlantic, the station constantly experienced violent weather conditions, sometimes causing waves to reach heights of 20 meters (66 feet), equivalent to the height of 6 sedans. These humongous waves created an impenetrable mist once they collided with the rocks, decreasing visibility during most parts of the day.
Principal Keeper James Ducat was an experienced “wickie” with over 20 years in the line of service and a perfectly clear record. He had been stationed on the island for 14 months prior to December 15, 1900, meaning he was quite familiar with the isle and its idiosyncrasies, making the disappearance even more peculiar. His novice assistant keepers, Thomas Marshall and Donald Mcarthur, were native Scotts and devoted family men, both with wives and children. The post was quite appealing with its high pay and relatively brief stints of service. At the time, keepers served for multiple months until they would be temporarily relieved of their duties, after which they would return to their position. All keepers were required to keep a log book, a nautical record that reports on official matters only, like weather and facility conditions or any passing vessels. The keeper in charge of the log book rotated from day to day to ensure factual accuracy. This log book and its enigmatic/unusual reports would become a useful clue in solving the mystery.
At midnight on December 15, a passing vessel reported that the light on Eilean Mor was out on an especially foggy night, but it wasn’t until December 26 that their disappearance would be confirmed, when the Scottish clipper HESPERUS, captained by James Harvie, anchored offshore to deliver the relieving keeper, Joseph Moore. Concerned about the state of the lighthouse and its keepers, Moore rowed to shore on a longboat to explore the isle. Upon entering the main house, Moore found half-finished breakfast bowls, one keeper’s long coat, a stopped wall clock, but no people. The dining room was in complete disarray with chairs, sofas, and storage boxes upturned and pushed aside, signifying a hasty exit. The single longcoat belonged to James Ducat, while the other two were never found. And finally, Moore discovered their log book, whose final entries are quite mysterious and unusual. On December 12th, Thomas Marshall recorded:
Gale, North by Northwest
Sea lashed to fury
Stormbound, 9PM
Never seen such a storm
Everything ship shape
Ducat irritable
12 PM: Storm still raging
Wind steady, storm-bound, cannot go out
Ship past sounding fog horn
MacArthur crying
The December 13th entry, written by Marshall again reads:
Storm continued through the night
Wind shifted West by North
Ducat quiet, MacArthur crying
12 Noon: Grey daylight
Me, Ducat and Macarthur prayed
The final entry, written on the date of their disappearance reads:
December 15,
1PM: Storm ended
Sea calm
God is over all.
The most practical theory is that the keepers exited the main house during a storm to secure a batch of provisions and were blown over the cliff by the Scottish gales. But, as described in the December 15th record, the sea was calm, and the storm had passed by the date of their disappearance. So, the theory isn’t coherent with the evidence. The stopped clock in the main house has also spawned some quite outlandish theories. Some propose they were abducted by extraterrestrials from the future, who contorted the passage of time on Eilean More, while others claim that the 3 keepers were captured by Davy Jones, absorbed into his crew of undead sailors. Although these paranormal theories sound unreasonable, it’s to be expected that sailors would attribute their disappearance to enduring such follies, when considering the unusual circumstances. But, the stopped clock has a very reasonable explanation that does not involve alien creatures. At the time, all clocks had to be manually wound to function, so if a clock remained untouched for extended periods, the hands would eventually stop moving.
A second piece to the puzzle is the condition of the dining room and the two missing long coats. The unfinished breakfast, coupled with the disorganized furniture, suggests that the 3 keepers exited the house in a hurry to tend to some piece of lighthouse equipment. Both MacArthur and Marshall, aware of the weather conditions on the isle, made sure to wear their specialized long coats to reduce chances of injury while securing the provisions. However, Ducat was so alarmed by whatever was happening outside, he decided he couldn’t waste time dressing, so he exited the house with only a t-shirt, indicating, to some, that he fell victim to the nasty weather conditions noted in the log book.
Although the log entries on December 12th and 13th describe a fierce and lasting storm, local weather reports from the time indicated fairly calm conditions. In fact, the strongest storm of the season did not arrive until December 20th, 5 days following their disappearance. Ducat’s silence and fear is another unusual and alarming detail; it would be atypical for experienced lighthouse keepers to break down during a routine storm. The crew’s volatile emotions and hallucinative weather reports are the first indicators of insanity. A second search party was launched a few weeks after Joseph More’s initial inspection. The second team investigated two of the island’s landing zones, one of which was in perfect condition. However, the second zone was found inoperable; an equipment cache containing the mooring line was shifted 70 ft away from its original position, its contents scattered about the zone. Additionally, the safety railing that lined the coastal path was dislodged from its concrete foundation, which was specially designed to withstand the most brutal Atlantic conditions. The state of the zone implies that the keepers intentionally destroyed the guard rail or attempted a descent into the ocean with the mooring line fastened to the railing. Some theorize that the 3 hung themselves from the line and sank to the seafloor amidst the “storm.”
The inconclusive evidence and inexplainable details limit our understanding of the situation and the fate of the Flannan Isles lighthouse keepers, but the best interpretation of the evidence, currently, is suicidal insanity. It is likely that the sheer isolation and lack of female presence on the island is the culprit. Also, at the time, lighthouse lenses were often made of mercury, a toxic chemical widely used during the 19th century for cosmetic, medicinal, and engineering purposes, so it is very possible that the Flannan Isles beacon contained high concentrations of mercury. The toxin can damage the nervous system, liver, immune system, and kidneys, and it can induce a sort of haze in the mind that clouds judgment and perception of reality. So, mercury poisoning, coupled with overwhelming isolation, may have driven the keepers to suicide. But why would Thomas Marshall and Donald Mcarthur bother wearing protective long coats if they were planning a premeditated suicide? It’s possible that James Ducat, whose demeanor during the final days was undeniably unusual, ventured outside without clothes to kill himself, and the other two, aware of his deteriorating mental state, hurried to save their head keeper. And during their rescue attempt, they too vanished over the cliff and into the sea.
Despite the correlation between lighthouse keeping and insanity, the occupation itself is not the culprit; instead, the solitude associated with the job is what induces the madness. However, the psychological effects of isolation are not confined to lighthouse keeping; they extend far beyond a single profession or time period. It has plagued human psyches for centuries, and despite the medicinal and technological advancements of the modern era, we are still dangerously susceptible. We are inherently social animals who thrive in the presence of community, and solitude is a primal threat to this biological programming. We can fortify our nations, our militaries, and our politics, but the mind will always remain timid and vulnerable, collapsing in the absence of human company.