The Republic of Ireland's 500Hz Morse Radio Service will be discontinued on 31 December 1998 as part of the plan for implementing the new Global Maritime Distress and Safety System (GMDSS). The UK's service ended a year earlier.

I RECENTLY learned from the media that the Morse code as a means of communication between ship and shore, and from ship to ship, is to be abolished. With modern equipment such as radio telephones and mobile phones it is no longer required. Another casualty of modern automation and technology.


Mew Island Lighthouse c.1940 (Photos: courtesy of Kevin Murphy)

In the Lighthouse Service it was part of a Lightkeeper's training to learn the Morse code. Most stations were equipped with Morse lamps. I cannot say, however, that they were ever used very much, and the advent of the radio telephones after the Second World War made them redundant.

I had one experience when I was glad I could communicate by means of the Morse lamp. I was stationed at Mew Island, Co Down, in 1940. Sometime in the autumn I happened to be in charge of the station. The Principal Keeper, Eugene Fortune, was on shore liberty, and the senior Assistant Keeper, Jack Lavelle, was on annual leave. I had with me Jack Campbell, Assistant Keeper, and Nick Lawlor, Supernumerary Assistant Keeper.

One fine evening, I cannot remember the date, Jack went for a walk around the island. When he returned he complained of having fallen and cut his leg above the knee. He was bleeding a good deal. On examination we found he had a half inch gash. We cleaned it up with cotton wool and disinfectant, and bandaged it. However the bleeding continued through the bandage. We applied a tourniquet but to no avail.


Kevin Murphy signalling by semaphore to Mew Island from the shore dwellings

Jack, who was himself a keen student of the Morse code, asked me to get a signal ashore and request medical help. It was now dusk. I knew there were naval patrol boats in the Lough but, it being wartime, they were completely blacked out. I flashed the Morse lamp continuously but got no response. About 10 pm we considered sounding the fog signal in the hope of alerting someone ashore. However I observed a vessel steaming down the Lough at full speed with all lights dimmed. I knew it to be the Heysham ferry. I told Jack and he said to call her up.

As the ship approached the lighthouse I flashed an SOS signal and got an immediate reply. I signalled 'man hurt want medical help'. I got a reply 'regret no doctor on board, suggest you call patrol boats' (which I had been doing to no avail). I acknowledged his signal. The ferry continued down the channel but when she was passing Donaghadee to her starboard the Captain, evidently worried about my message, flashed a Morse signal to the Coastguards informing them of my signal. The Coastguards alerted our relief tender and at 11 pm approximately the tender arrived at the island.

By this time the bleeding had eased, but Jack was definitely in a state of shock. He refused to move when the boatman wanted to take him ashore, and was very agitated when they arrived without a doctor. I had no option but to instruct the boatman, John Bunting, to return ashore, alert the Principal Keeper, and return with him and a doctor.

The boat returned some time after midnight. The doctor stitched the wound on the spot. He informed us that the wound was deep and an artery had been cut. He then bandaged the leg and instructed the boatmen to get Jack ashore as he was very much in a shocked condition and had lost a lot of blood. We carried him down to the boat. The Principal Keeper remained on in his place. Jack was off duty for two weeks.

So ended an incident in which the Morse code played a significant part. I had reason to be thankful that I learned the code. The Captain of the Heysham ferry and I both took a risk to flash signals during those dark blacked-out nights of 1940.