Elba Island Range, GA 
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For more than half a century, the Elba Island Range Lights stood as essential navigational aids on the Savannah River, guiding vessels through one of the most commercially vital waterways of the American South. Situated roughly midway between the port of Savannah and the river’s mouth near Cockspur Island, Elba Island occupied a strategic position along a channel long troubled by shoals, shifting banks, and strong tidal currents. The history of the Elba Island Range Lights is inseparable from the broader effort to improve navigation on the Savannah River and from the remarkable lives of the lighthouse keeper George W. Martus and his sister Florence, whose vigil transformed the station into one of the most storied sites in American maritime folklore.
Federal concern for navigation on the Savannah River dates to the mid-nineteenth century. By 1855, lighthouse authorities had begun erecting day beacons along the river to mark dangerous shoals such as Horseshoe and Pumpkin Banks. That year, two day beacons were constructed on Elba Island, while another was placed on the river’s northern bank. These early structures were intended to provide visual reference points for mariners negotiating the river’s winding course and unstable bottom. At the same time, extensive repairs were undertaken at nearby Fig Island Light, underscoring the growing federal commitment to maintaining a reliable system of riverine navigation aids.
Despite these efforts, the Savannah River remained hazardous after dark. As commerce increased in the post–Civil War era, pressure mounted for a comprehensive system of lights that would allow vessels to reach Savannah safely at night. This need culminated in an act of Congress on March 3, 1881, which appropriated $60,000 for lighting the Savannah River between its mouth and the city.
The Savannah River lighting project envisioned a coordinated chain of twelve lights extending upriver. Of these, two were designated for Elba Island, forming a range that would guide vessels along a precise line through a critical stretch of channel. By 1882, iron beacon structures for all twelve lights had been fabricated and placed in storage at the Castle Pinckney buoy depot in South Carolina. Progress stalled, however, due to delays in securing clear titles to the necessary sites—an obstacle that would plague lighthouse construction throughout the nineteenth century.
By early 1884, these legal difficulties were finally resolved. Work began immediately, with crews quartered at Venus Point and the lighthouse tender Pharos deploying laborers and mechanics to erect the remaining beacons. The Elba Island Range consisted of a front and rear beacon, supported by piles driven into the riverbed. The rear beacon rested on six piles, while the front beacon, like most others in the system, was supported by three. Timber grillages and heavy brick piers provided stability against currents and tides.
The Elba Island lights were first exhibited on May 26, 1884. They displayed fixed red beams produced by reflector-type locomotive headlights, distinguishing them from other ranges on the river. Together with the newly completed ranges, the Elba Island lights formed part of a continuous nighttime pathway that allowed vessels to proceed by aligned lights from the river’s entrance nearly to the wharves of Savannah itself.
In the years following their establishment, the Elba Island Range Lights underwent steady improvement. In 1885, locomotive headlights replaced the river lanterns originally installed, increasing the intensity and reliability of the lights. Boat landings and elevated plank walks were added or rebuilt repeatedly, reflecting the marshy terrain and the constant erosion caused by tides and currents. A keeper’s dwelling was completed at the station in 1887.
Natural forces frequently tested the station. In 1886, Keeper James Feeley reported experiencing two earthquake shocks, part of a series felt throughout the region following the major Charleston earthquake of August 31 that year. Although these tremors caused no serious damage at Elba Island, they added to the sense of isolation and vulnerability at the remote station.
Erosion proved to be a more persistent threat. By the early 1890s, the construction of jetties by the War Department to deepen and stabilize the Savannah River channel had unintended consequences near Elba Island. The riverbank began to wash away, endangering the boathouse, plank walks, and even the beacons themselves. Timber revetments and spur jetties were installed to slow the damage, and by 1892 the worst erosion between the beacons had been largely checked. Even so, rebuilding was constant: boathouses, landings, trestles, and lantern platforms were replaced or repaired again and again as storms and tides took their toll.
The storm tide of October 1898 nearly overwhelmed the station, burying Elba Island under layers of sedge carried in by floodwaters. Cleanup was extensive, but the lights remained in service. By the turn of the twentieth century, the range was considered to be in good condition, and Elba Island became a proving ground for improved brass locomotive headlight lanterns.
The human history of Elba Island is dominated by the long tenure of Keeper George W. Martus. Born in Washington, D.C., in 1861, Martus grew up in a military family stationed at Fort Pulaski. He entered the Lighthouse Service as a teenager, serving first at Cockspur Island before becoming head keeper there in 1881. After a brief resignation, he returned to service in 1887 as keeper of the Elba Island Range Lights, earning an annual salary of $720.
Following the death of their father in 1886, George’s mother and younger sister Florence joined him on Elba Island. Over time, Florence became as integral to the station as her brother. While George tended the lights, maintained the structures, and navigated the river to service additional aids, Florence kept house and quietly developed a ritual that would make her famous far beyond Savannah.
George Martus proved to be an exemplary keeper. Inspectors repeatedly praised his diligence, technical skill, and the immaculate condition of a station located in what one described as a “most unfavorable location.” His responsibilities steadily increased. In 1905 and 1907, additional ranges were placed under his care without any increase in salary. Although an assistant keeper was briefly assigned in 1907, the position was abolished in 1914, leaving George once again alone with an expanding workload.
In 1923, responsibility for nine additional minor lights below Savannah was added to his duties, bringing the total under his care to fourteen. Even then, inspectors noted his efficiency and stamina, as he worked seven days a week, making frequent boat trips to remote, unwatched lights. Though his salary was eventually increased, the Lighthouse Service benefited greatly from his willingness to shoulder extraordinary responsibility.
While George Martus earned the admiration of lighthouse officials, it was Florence Martus who captured the imagination of the world. Beginning in the late nineteenth century, Florence developed the habit of greeting passing ships—by day with a handkerchief or towel, by night with a lantern. What began as a way to ease the loneliness of island life soon became a ritual known to sailors across the globe.
Stories arose to explain her devotion. The most enduring legend claimed that Florence had lost a sweetheart at sea and waved at every ship in hopes of being the first to welcome him home. Florence herself gently dismissed the tale, explaining that she waved simply because the sailors were her friends. Whatever its origin, her vigil lasted more than forty years. Tens of thousands of vessels answered her salute with whistle blasts, and her reputation spread from port to port.
Newspapers dubbed her “Savannah’s Waving Girl” and “the little lighthouse girl.” Sailors who had never seen her in person spoke of her as a symbol of kindness and continuity at the edge of a demanding profession. Though Florence kept detailed diaries and logs of the ships she greeted, she later destroyed them, believing they would hold no interest for future generations.
By 1905, plans were already underway to replace the Elba Island Range Lights with newer ranges better aligned to the improved channel. Once those lights were established, the Elba Island lights were discontinued, though the station buildings remained occupied for many years as George Martus continued to look after other lights along the river.
George Martus reached mandatory retirement age in 1931 after more than four decades of service. He and Florence left Elba Island and moved to Savannah, marking the end of an era. That same year, Florence gave her last salute to passing ships. Public affection for her remained strong, culminating in a large public celebration of her seventieth birthday in 1938 at Fort Pulaski.
The legacy of the Elba Island Range Lights endures largely through the Martus siblings. A Liberty ship launched during World War II was named Florence Martus, and in 1972 a statue known as The Waving Girl was dedicated on Savannah’s riverfront. George and Florence Martus now rest side by side in Laurel Grove North Cemetery, remembered as quiet custodians of a river whose commerce and culture they served for a lifetime.
Though the physical lights have long since vanished, the Elba Island Range Lights remain embedded in the navigational history of the Savannah River and in one of the most enduring human stories ever associated with an American lighthouse station.