Capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1893-1895, 1894-07-12
FLASHINTHEN1GHT
SIGNALS OF LIGHT AT FIRE ISLAND
AND THEIR ANSWERS.

Sayed-The PiIOtboats and the Lonely
watchers on the Beach on the Lookout.
Slowed snugly away in his little tow
er at Fire island, the man who always
has his weather eye open sweeps the
horizon with his night glass, watching
and waiting. Beside him is his list of
vessels bound to the great port of which
the flaming beacon way above his head
is one of the sentinels and all around
are the moaning of the distant surf, the
breaking of waves on the beach at his
feet and the whistle of the wind as il
eddies and swirls around the tower and
huge lamp at its top. Minute after mini
ute passes away, each one marked by a
great beam of light sent out over the
waters.
Suddenly there comes from the south
east, as if thrown up by the ocean, a
CLEAN Of red-red, the danger signal,
but the watcher is not disturbed. He
only waits. Not for long, however, as
the night glass pointed toward that
point of red ON the oceans rim shows Il
blue light ON each side of it, about 100
feet away, while just below the red
light is faint speck of green. That is
enough. The signals have told their
story, and the next instant binding
flash of green light from the tower all
swers the distant vessel, and before its
glare has died away the electric spark
has sent to the Western Union Tele
graph Office and to every newspaper in
the city the message, Steamer Paris
southeast Of Fire island"
The big boat speeds ON her way. The
watcher checks her name off the list of
vessels due. But others have seen the
green signal. The dim lights of the
steamer had not attracted the attention
of the sailors on the little pilctboat
standing to the eastward, but the bril-
liant flash of green told them that q sig
nal had been answered, and there was
no need for the Paris to send up the
familiar pilot call of white-red-
white. The Paris meant $3.50 for the
pilot catching her, and the men started
right off after her, knowing that she
was due and hoping it was her signal
that had been answered.
The ocean greyhound has passed away
to the westward in the darkness, and
again the watcher resumes his vigil
But the wind has increased. The breeze
has given way before gathering of the
forces of the air, and up from the south
west comes "a surging of waves, and the
surf is beating and pounding on the
shore with a hollow, resounding boom
that tells of tempest abroad in the
night. Blacker and blacker grow the
clouds overhead, narrower and narrow
er grows the circle of inky sea and sky
that marks the limits of vision, and
while the faithful monitor overhead
keeps up its clocklize regularity of blaz-
ing and fading its range of power is
constantly lessened by the coming
storm.
Down on the beach the swing of a
lantern marks where the life saver is
steadily tramping along to meet his
companion from the next station. 1t is a
terribly lonely mission. He is alone
with the moaning surf, and each step is
like entering some enchanted realm of
darkness, ruled by the spirit of the
storm On one side of him is the sullen,
grinding sea, ON the other waste of
sand, and in front the fitful CLEAN Of
his own lantern. He is lonely and cold,
but that has no terrors for him. His
next step may touch some one lonelier
and colder than he-a human body
pressed into the moist, unyielding sand.
Or away through the breakers rises the
form of a ship, helpless for all her
strength, driven by the gale far on the
shore despite the friendly warning from
the tall tower with its finger of flame.
Then the crimson signal in his hand
tells the watch at the station that there
is work to do, and the wrecked mari
ners that help is at hand. He hurries to
the station to assist in the preparations
for rescue. As he nears the little house
there begins brilliant display of fire.
works. A glare of red, changing to a
clear white, which is followed by
vivid green, conveys the message to the
next station. and a bright ~'hite blaze
tells that the signal is seen and under
stood, and then the beautiful Coston
lights send shooting through the gloom
a series of orders easily understood. A
bright green tells the distant watchers
that aid is needed, and red and green
call for boats and equipments. A red
and white would have called for rocket
apparatus a green and red for the life
car or "breeches buoy" and so ON,
different combinations Of colors convey
ing different instructions.
But it is not always stern business
that calls into play the Coston colors.
A big yachting club has its regatta
From up and down the coast come the
swift, white winged or steam driven
pleasure craft. Some Of the stragglers
come in late, aud as a white-red-
green-white succession Of fires appears
lighting up the sails of a belated fiier
the waiting fleet prepares TO welcome
the wanderer from the Eastern Yacht
club OF Boston, and chasing close after
her comes red-white, followed by
red and then white star, and the well
come to the man from Boston is ex-
tended to the Corinthians delegate
Next comes a fOur color combination