The East Brother Gentle Station within the San Francisco Bay has no energy
The historic East Brother Light Station Bed and Breakfast on the three-quarter acre island in San Francisco Bay has been without power for nine days, and lighthouse keeper Desiree Heveroh is now living like a pioneer on the rock as the landmark’s future darkens.
“It’s getting really cold on this rock,” Heveroh told SFGATE from the island on Friday morning. “If it was at all possible, I’m still living further back in time here, every morning I get the fireplace packed with eucalyptus bark and branches from all over the island that I collect.”
On April 1, the submarine cable that powers the light station from the Richmond coast failed, leaving the buildings in the dark.
The cable is owned by the US Coast Guard, and although they repaired it after a lightning strike in 1991, this time around, they decided against it and instead provide minimal power to the tower’s flashlight.
This means that the bed and breakfast, which has been receiving visitors by ship for over 40 years, has an uncertain future.
“We showed [the U.S. Coast Guard] around, “says Heveroh,” and they basically said, ‘It would be cheaper for us to just put the light in the tower on a solar panel.’ So you are not going to replace the cable, which will leave us with no electricity at all. And your responsibility is done. “
The light station on East Brother Island was first lit in 1874, powered by whale oil, but after a fire on March 4, 1940 that destroyed the island’s wharf and boathouse along with four boats, the lights were automated and the government tried to keep the keeper’s house and other buildings.
Following protests from local residents, the site was barely saved in 1979 by the newly established non-profit East Brother Light Station, which managed to get the landmark on the historical register so it couldn’t be demolished.
“Before ’79, this place was boarded up, ravaged, and left to decay for decades. They wanted to level it and just put up an aluminum pole with a light to do its job,” she says. “We made such a call to action to save this lighthouse and 40 years later we will make history again.”
“The light itself is working now, it charges when I run the generator,” says Heveroh, “so I watched it like in the old days. The Coast Guard told me when they came out that if the lights went out, I would I need to notify you. “
“They said directly – their responsibility is to make sure the light in the tower is flashing,” she adds, “and they can do this in a much more economical way by using solar instead of swapping the cable.”
She says the Coast Guard wasn’t opposing it, but the news was devastating.
East Brother Light Station on San Francisco Bay near Richmond, California.
dypics / Getty Images / iStockphoto
“They have certain marching orders that they cannot exceed. Maybe something will happen if the people who make these rules get wind of it. We just have to convey the message to them. “
(The U.S. Coast Guard told SFGATE that more information on the situation would follow shortly.)
Richmond Mayor Tom Butt, one of the founders of the nonprofit that saved the light station in the 1970s, has also released a public plea for ideas and funding to save the station. But if the Coast Guard doesn’t cover the costs and the nonprofit can’t raise the funds, the East Brother Light Station could shut the inn down forever.
Heveroh now lives in hope on the rock, but without electricity, beyond an old generator that she runs intermittently.
“I go out as rarely as possible, but recently I took a boat to the mainland to find antique machinists to fix the generator or get diesel,” she says.
“It’s freezing in the morning, so I light the fire and heat my room, turn on the generator for an hour so I don’t spoil the freezer and fridge,” says Heveroh. “We have no television out here, no WiFi or anything like that.”
“Sometimes I’m gardening and canning because I’m losing a lot of my frozen fruit, so I’ve turned it all into jam. But it’s springtime and there are pups on my rock that I watch from my fence in the morning when I water my garden. It’s magical. “
In normal, non-pandemic times, a Coast Guard-approved light station attendant would manned the light station. This would also be the host of the now closed light station. But since the coronavirus closed the inn, Heveroh has been watching it alone.
“We haven’t made any money for a year. We still have our running costs. We have planned to reopen, you know, we have remodeled several rooms and replaced the copper roof that was donated to us.”
“I’m the first goalkeeper who isn’t Coast Guard approved so I’m kind of a pioneer,” she laughs. “You can’t leave this place empty. Word will get around, people will come and crouch, destroy, steal. We can’t leave it alone. That’s why I’m right here on the island. “
She realizes that replacing the cable is not an easy task.
“It will cost at least $ 100,000 to repair the cable, get permits, and shut down the duct,” she says. “It’s a lot, but she [the Coast Guard] have the resources and the strength to get the permits through. But if they don’t help, we’re in big trouble. “
The nonprofit has also looked into off-grid solar, wind, and wave power, but knows that it can cost as much as replacing the cable. A GoFundMe was set up on Friday to raise funds.
“We’ve been operational for the past 40 years, we didn’t really need anyone’s help. But not making any money with something like that, after the coronavirus, it’s a crippling blow, ”she says. “If they don’t pay the whole bill, maybe they will make up for it, or maybe there is a grant to qualify for. Everything. Now is the time, and if it has to be saved again, that part will too be away.” into the history of the island and its history. “
Heveroh doesn’t want to be the last guard at the 147-year-old light station and vacillates between optimism and dejection.
“Last night I was worried and sad, but today I have the determination that the Foundation members had when they set up the Foundation in the 1970s, I feel that determination and that fire. We can do this island. I think that can happen, “she says.
“And everyone who helps us knows that they were there for us so that we can be there for them. We had planned a reopening. It’s just devastating. “
