However, it would be five more years until the US government appropriated $3,500 for the lighthouse on August 14, 1848. An acre of land on Palmer Island was purchased in 1849; and the contract to design and build the lighthouse went to architect Charles M. Pierce. Palmer Island Light, with its conical, 24-foot white tower and black iron lantern, was erected in 1849, of rubble-stone with wooden doors and floors, on the northernmost tip of the island. The lighthouse was connected to the higher part of the island by a covered walkway and came in $173 under budget. Keeper William Sherman (1849-1853) first lit the tower’s lamps on August 30, 1849.

Palmer Island Lighthouse with birdcage lantern Photograph courtesy U.S. Coast Guard

To protect the lighthouse, a 99-foot-long seawall was built in 1852 on the east side of the island. Later that same year, New Bedford whaling merchant Samuel Rodman experimented with whale oil as an illuminant at Palmer Island Lighthouse. For the seventy-nine and a half gallons of oil used in his trials, Rodman billed the government $105.80 – an amount equal to the average cost for lighting the Clark’s Point light over a similar period. Initially, the government balked at paying for Rodman’s “experiment,” but later reimbursed him, even though the use of whale oil was not adopted at that time.

In recognition of Palmer Island Light’s importance, in 1853, New Bedford commissioned a new city seal with “a view of the Northerly extremity of Palmer’s Island, with its Light House, of a whale ship under sail in the harbor, of a Steamboat passing out by Palmer’s Island and the City of New Bedford in the distance,” from local jeweler and engraver James T. Almy. The seal bears the motto, “Lucem Diffundo,” which is translated as, “I spread the light” or “I diffuse the light”. At its peak in 1857, New Bedford was the world’s richest city per capita and held all the federal contracts for the supply of whale oil for the country’s lighthouse system.

In 1857, Palmer Island light was one of twenty lighthouses in the district to receive a new fifth-order Fresnel lens. The tower was outfitted with a new lantern in 1863.

Life was not always pleasant for the keepers on Palmer Island. George Cowie (1872-1891) complained of brackish well water and soot from New Bedford’s factories that blew across the island, contaminating the cistern. Whether his complaints were addressed or not is unclear, but a 1931 inspection would list the same water problem.

Navigation into New Bedford Harbor was aided by a red light mounted on Fairhaven Bridge that served as a rear range light with Palmer Island Light from 1888-1891, guiding sea-goers past Butler Flats, before a lighthouse was built there. Following that, a light on Wamsutta Mill served briefly as a rear range light with Palmer Island.

Palmer Island Lighthouse with bell tower Photograph courtesy U.S. Coast Guard

In 1900, a 1,260-pound fog bell and striking mechanism were placed in a new pyramidal wooden tower constructed on the island. Later, the fog bell was moved to a structure attached to the lighthouse, with an access door cut in the tower. An oil house was built on the island in 1905.

Keeper Arthur Small moved with his wife Mabel and two sons from Boston Harbor’s Narrows (“Bug”) Light to Palmer Island in 1922. One of three brothers who were all lighthouse keepers, Arthur Small was a gifted artist who concentrated on nautical themes and frequently painted scenes on Palmer Island. Historian Edward Rowe Snow wrote in Lighthouses of New England that Small was “probably the greatest painter who was ever in the lighthouse service.”

While some may think the life of a lighthouse keeper to be ideally peaceful or perhaps even boring, Small described the responsibility borne by keepers:

It is a popular idea that there is very little to do except for striking a match once a day to light the lamp. Few of these landlubbers realize that if a fog comes in during the middle of the night the keeper must be ready to turn on the fog signal at once, for if the fog bell is silent for a moment it could happen that a vessel may be feeling her way up into the harbor depending on the ringing of the fog signal for her safety.

The channel in New Bedford Harbor is so narrow that if a large vessel went down, all shipping in or out of the harbor would be at a standstill. The coal for the electric light company could not reach the pier, and the cotton steamers likewise would be seriously crippled. That is what makes me angry when I hear of the easy job of a lighthouse keeper, as described by some fair weather sailor or inland resident.

Small loved his work and took his role quite seriously, but scoffed at the so-called heroism of keepers; although years later his words would come back to haunt him. “Whenever they say anything about a lighthouse keeper,” Small said, “they always act as if he were some kind of hero. We’re not heroes. Here I am on this island, perfectly safe, working and painting pictures, while you wander around in New Bedford, crossing streets with automobiles and trolley cars whizzing by, just missing you by a few feet. Why, you people take more chances in a week than I do in ten years.”

A 1931 Palmer Island inspection report listed a fourth order Fresnel lens with a fixed green light, its focal plane 34 feet above mean high water. The report also noted a problem with soot in the drinking water, and the dwelling was “old but in fair condition”.

On September 21, 1938, the worst hurricane ever in New England history, The Great New England Hurricane, battered the south-facing coastline taking everyone unaware. A Weather Bureau bulletin had predicted wind velocity in the area probably would not top 50 or 60 miles an hour. And although the eye of the storm, with its 120-mile-per-hour winds and gusts as high as 175-186 miles, would not pass directly through New Bedford, the damage wrought in the area was nonetheless immense.

Realizing the necessity of lighting the lamps that afternoon, 53-year-old Arthur Small left his wife in the oil house, which he considered relatively safe as it was situated on the island’s highest point. As he strained to cross the 350 feet from the house to the tower in the raging wind, he was struck by a wave that sucked him under and slammed him against a metal fence. He swam and as he struggled to regain his footing found his wife attempting to launch a rowboat to come to his aid. He cried out for her to stop, but the wind tore away his words. Small could only watch in helpless horror as a massive wave swept away his wife, the dory, and the boathouse, and destroyed everything on the island except the lighthouse tower.

Later Keeper Small was to relate, “I was hurt and she knew it. Seeing the wave hit the boathouse was about the last thing I remember. I must have been hit by a piece of timber and knocked unconscious. I came to some hours later, but all I remember was that I was in the middle of some wreckage...”

Despite being injured and in shock, Arthur Small made it to the tower where he lit the Palmer Island Light, unable to leave the tower until the storm calmed. Two friends rowed out to the island in the morning where they discovered the keeper and took him under police escort to the Chelsea Marine Hospital. There he regained consciousness two weeks later and learned that his wife had perished.

Besides his wife, Small lost $7,500 in savings, many of his paintings and his library of several hundred books. Keeper Small was granted a two-year absence with pay, after which he retired.

Franklin Ponte (c. 1939-1940) became keeper after Arthur Small (1922-1938), followed by Martin Maloney (c.1941), who was last keeper of the lighthouse when it was automated in 1941.

After a hurricane wall was built in New Bedford Harbor in 1963, the lighthouse was no longer needed. The proximity to this wall made Palmer Island more accessible to lighthouse seekers and vandals alike. In 1966, the tower interior was gutted by arson, nearly destroying the lantern room.

Ownership of Palmer Island passed through many hands, including that of radio station WBSM, until in 1978, the City of New Bedford took it over from Norlantic Diesel. Local residents spearheaded restoration that was completed in 1989, but unfortunately, vandals struck again, and Palmer Island Lighthouse remained dark and abandoned throughout most of the 1990s.

New restoration efforts, including a new paint job and various repairs by inmates in the Bristol County Sheriff Department’s Pre-Release Program, culminated in a ceremony to mark Palmer’s Island Light’s 150-year anniversary in 1999. New Bedford Mayor Fred Kalisz passed out lighted oil lanterns and a procession of three whale boats sallied forth to return the flashing white light to Palmer Island’s newly restored lantern room. When the Mayor waved his lantern in the air, the new 250-mm solar-powered light, with its signature white flash every 7.5 seconds, was switched on.

References

1. The Lighthouses of New England, Edward Rowe Snow, 2005.
2. The Lighthouses of Massachusetts, Jeremy D'Entremont, 2007.
3. Annual Report of the Light House Board, various years.
4. “Hurricane of ’38: A storm to measure all others,” Jack Stewardson,The Standard-Times, September 20, 1998.
5. “Keeper Arthur Small: Hero and Artist,” Jeremy D'Entremont, Lighthouse Digest, August 2003. “New Hope for Palmer Island Light,” Jeremy D'Entremont, Lighthouse Digest, April 1999.
6. “Palmer Island Light Relighted”, Doug Bingham, Lighthouse Digest, October 1999.

The lighthouse is visible from the Cuttyhunk Ferry, from the Martha's Vineyard ferry, and from harbor tours.