by Kevin Murphy

At the end of March 1997 the last Principal Keeper will lock the door of Baily Lighthouse and hand over the keys to the Inspector of Lights and Marine Superintendent. The automation of the Baily will result in the withdrawal of the last Lighthouse Keepers from the Irish coast and close the door, not just on an occupation, but on a tradition handed down for centuries.

Kevin Murphy winding the optic rotation machine at Baily. Photo taken by Neil Clothworthy, late Engineer-in-Chief, circa 1960.

As one who served for eleven years as Principal Keeper at Baily Lighthouse, it makes me sad to know that it is to be automated in the near future, the last of the lighthouses around the coast to be demanned.

I retired from the Baily in 1967 after what was the most active period of my entire service. There was at that time a staff of four permanent Keepers: the Principal Keeper and three Assistant Keepers. In addition there was a floating staff of twelve to fifteen Supernumary Assistant Keepers, as the Baily was the headquarters and training school for all new recruits joining the Lighthouse Service. I am sure the several hundred that passed through during my stewardship carried away many memories of the Baily.

The lighthouse, built on the headland on the north coast of Dublin Bay was and is, though automated one of the most powerful lights on the whole coast of Ireland, with its three million candle power. I recall the old incandescent equipment, the massive lens of over a ton weight floating and revolving in a bath of mercury, driven by a clockwork machine manually wound every 30 minutes. The interior of the lantern itself with its mosaic floor was a show-piece as, indeed, it should be for a lighthouse so close to the capital city.

Now the incandescent equipment is gone. The great lens and machine is an exhibit in the Maritime Institute Museum in Dun Laoghaire. The light now at Baily has an electric bulb and a smaller lens, operating automatically with ESB power supply. There is, of course, a standby generator in case of a mains electricity failure.

The powerful diaphone fog signal, audible over ten miles, with its 30 horse power diesel engines and compressors to keep it sounding, are all now scrapped. I listened to it from my garden in Raheny on many a foggy evening after I left the Service. Now silence in fog.

Then there was the radio-telephone link-up with all the lighthouses and lightships on the east coast - indeed messages were relayed via the Baily to all the lighthouses around the whole coast of Ireland. Last but not least, we were in constant touch with Royal National Lifeboat Intitution boats while they were at sea - on test runs or on life saving duties. The radio-telephone at Baily was the hub for all messages to and from Irish Lights Office, and from all Lifeboats at sea to the different Honorary Secretaries.

From a domestic point of view, the Baily was an ideal station. It was close to Dublin, the capital city, good for schools and shopping, much appreciated by Keepers' wives.

As I left the Baily on 1st November 1967 to live in retirement in suburbia after eleven hectic years, I did so with a heavy heart. However, I am glad I left in the busy days. I carried away many memories of a wonderful period of my service.

I bought a short-wave radio after I retired to listen in to Baily and other lighthouses. I got tremendous pleasure in this. Now, alas, the frequency is dead.