Built of the same stone, and at the same time as the tower, the house stands a few short feet south of the light tower. Its walls hold numerous fascinating stories of the lives light keepers and their families, who made this isolated, island their home.
The building’s structure remains sound. However, the interior is in ruins from years of neglect. Inside the damp cottage, paint is cracked and blistered, the wallpaper is peeling, and the plaster is falling off the walls. In the parlor, old and musty books are piled on the mantle and strewn on the floor. Each copy bears a bookplate from the Upper Canada Tract Society with the inscription:
“With the love of Books and with Books to read, no man
need be lonely.”
Living in the twenty-first century, lighthouses and the life of a light keeper can be perceived as the greatest job imaginable. It would be the ultimate great escape from the daily pressures and chaos of the urban rat race.
To others, living at a lonely lighthouse on an isolated and god-forsaken island can be the worst place on earth to spend ones’ days.
