In 1869, when lumber transportation was at its peak on Lake Champlain, the Lighthouse Board recommended the construction of a lighthouse on Colchester Reef to mark a group of three dangerous shoals. The reef is located approximately a mile out into the lake from Colchester Point, and roughly seven miles northwest of Burlington.

Colchester Reef Lighthouse on station

The lighthouse, designed by Albert R. Dow, a graduate engineer from the University of Vermont, was constructed in 1871 at a cost of $20,000 - the most expensive light built on Lake Champlain. A national contest for lighthouse design had been held in 1869, and Dow's was the winning entry. The plans had four bedrooms on the top floor, and a kitchen, sitting room and oil room on the bottom floor.

The lighthouse was situated on a rock known as Middle Bunch, located seven feet below the surface of the lake at low water. A wooden crib was constructed in Burlington, hauled to the site, sunk, and then filled with concrete and stone to form the foundation for the lighthouse. Two layers of stone were placed around the crib to protect it from ice floes and rough water.

During its first winter, the outer layer of stone was stripped from the crib and had to be replaced at a cost of $4,500. A fierce storm hit the lighthouse in 1873 and once again the foundation was damaged. This time riprap was placed around the crib at a cost of $5,000.

The lighthouse, a Second Empire style house with an octagonal tower projecting from the Mansard roof, displayed a fixed red light from a sixth-order Fresnel lens. At a focal plane of fifty-one feet, it was visible for eight miles.

Storms and ice jams often battered the lighthouse, and life in the small dwelling could be lonely, especially during the winter.

Supplies were brought to the reef once a year by a lighthouse tender out of Staten Island. The Lighthouse Board determined the amount of supplies needed, whether or not the keeper requested more or less. The first keeper, Herman Malaney, insisted that he did not need the nine tons of coal that were brought to him each year. But nine tons of coal he got. Each winter, local ice fisherman knew that a visit to the lighthouse would bring them a bag of coal for use in their shanty stoves.

When Lightkeeper Malaney retired in 1882, he was replaced by his assistant, Walter Button, who brought his family to live at the station. The assistant position was not replaced.

On January 29, 1888, Mr. Button’s wife Harriet went into labor. Walter rang the fog bell, a prearranged signal for someone on shore to notify the doctor. The doctor and his assistant reached the shore just as it was getting dark, where they found a perplexing scenario - ice too thin to cross, and not enough open water to get a boat through.

Abandoned Colchester Reef Lighthouse

They decided to risk it and began to cross the ice. When they were about halfway to their patient, a large floe cracked clear of the main section, leaving the two men stranded. Their floe drifted north, and then began to break into smaller and smaller pieces. Jumping from floe to floe to save their lives, the two finally reached safety on the shores of South Hero Island, four miles from where they began their journey.

Mrytle Edna Button was born that night without the doctor.

August Lorenz, a six- foot-tall, 200-pound man who enjoyed his solitude, took on the job of keeper in 1909. While living in New York City, Lorenz had dreamed of the pastoral life. He struck up a correspondence with William Howard, the Colchester Reef Lightkeeper at the time who longed for the city. The two decided to switch jobs and met halfway between to trade their tools.

Once a week, Lorenz would row across the lake, 4 1/2 miles to Port Kent or 6 1/2 miles to Port Douglas, to pick up supplies. One dreadfully cold day in late autumn, he had loaded his dory with supplies and was headed back home when a combination of an east wind and lake spray worked to form a thin coat of water on his back. Lorenz kept rowing, unaware that with only the movement of his arms, the coat of water had frozen and grew thicker and thicker with each new layer of spray landing on his back. By the time he reached the lighthouse, he was fully encased in a sheath of ice, so thick that he could not move and was frozen solid to his dory. Fortunately, he was carrying a knife, and eventually freed himself by chipping away the ice.

Ice again found Keeper Lorenz when one night as he was working in the lantern room, he heard a huge crash and the sound of wood splintering. He dashed down the stairs to find the southwest corner of the lighthouse split open by the pressure of tons of ice. Huge pieces were pushing through the hole flooding the kitchen floor. Within a few minutes, the wind reversed, the ice slid back, and all that was left of the near disaster was a gaping hole in the kitchen wall.

Lorenz loved the quiet solitude he found at the reef. He stayed on as keeper for twenty-two years, until in 1931, at age seventy he was required to retire. Leaving the station broke his heart, and he died shortly thereafter.

Lighthouse during 2009 foundation work Photograph courtesy Gary Martin Photography

The lighthouse was also about to retire. Joseph Aubin, the last keeper, turned off the light and closed the doors in August 1933. A battery powered beacon was installed on the exterior of the lighthouse to serve mariners.

The abandoned lighthouse eventually fell into disrepair and was auctioned off in June of 1952. Paul and Lorraine Bessette had the high bid of $50, and the young couple planned to raze the 81-year-old lighthouse and use the lumber to build a house in Essex, Vermont.

Electra Webb, collector of New England memorabilia and founder of the Shelburne Museum, soon heard of the fate awaiting the historic structure and offered to purchase the lighthouse from the Bessettes for $1300 and building materials. The timbers used in the stairway, doors, and windows were all numbered so the lighthouse could be disassembled piece by piece, and then painstakingly re-erected on the grounds of the Shelburne Museum in the fall of 1952. A plaque on the lighthouse recognizes the efforts of six men responsible for relocating the structure. The Coast Guard later presented the museum with the Fresnel lens, bronze fog bell, and clockwork mechanism for striking the bell. A modern post light was placed atop the crib to replace the lighthouse.

Life for the lighthouse at the Shelburne Museum has remained fairly calm, with one exception. In June 1961, the lighthouse was struck by lightning, but fortunately the lighthouse only incurred minor damage.

Today, the lighthouse is one of thirty-seven buildings on the grounds of the museum. Inside the structure, exhibits on Lake Champlain history, maritime history, and life at the lighthouse can be found. In 2006, a solar-powered beacon was placed in the lantern room with help from the Coast Guard, and the Colchester Reef was lit for the first time since it was decommissioned. In March of 2009, work began on a new foundation and wheelchair-accessible entrance for the lighthouse. The $130,000-effort was largely funded by the estate of a man whose grandfather served at the Colchester Reef Lighthouse in the late 1800s.

Photo Gallery: 1

References

1. Life in the Colchester Reef Lighthouse, George Manning, 1958.
2. Lake Champlain Lighthouses, George Clifford, Clinton County Historical Association, 1999.
3. “The Lighthouses of Lake Champlain,” Morris Glenn, The Keeper’s Log, Winter 1994.