Not long ago, I visited my writer-friend, JP McLean, on Denman Island, and we went for a walk through Boyle Point Provincial Park. At the top of the hilly trail we glanced down and there was Chrome Island Lighthouse with its red roofs and white buildings—a Coast Guard trademark.
The island first appeared on navigational maps in the 1860s and was called Yellow Rock because its light sandstone surface glows golden in the sunlight. Naturally, navigators weren't the first people to notice this phenomenon. Indigenous People since time immemorial have honoured the rock and carved petroglyphs of mythical creatures into its surface.
As is often the case, most of the petroglyphs were blasted off in the name of progress; in this case: coal. Nanaimo was a big coal town and nearby Fanny Bay the location of suppliers. Ships bound for Asia would stop at Fanny Bay to load up with coal before heading west across the Pacific.
The original lighthouse, built in 1890, was fifty-five feet tall and its beam could be seen for seventeen miles. With the light—first lit on New Years Day 1891—came the first lightkeeper—Tom H. Piercy. The Piercy family stayed eight years and raised their ten children on the two-acre rock. Can you imagine? They had a boat of course and could row to Denman Island to buy food and supplies. No helicopter drops for them. Can you imagine what that might be like? In a medical emergency, the nearest hospital was in Cumberland, which meant rowing from Chrome to Denman and then to Vancouver Island, horse and buggies in between.
Despite the light, keepers have witnessed shipwrecks. Captain Yorke sailed the Alpha into Yellow Rock on December 16, 1900. She was carrying 630 tons of salted dog salmon bound for Japan. The Quartermaster and twenty-five crew crossed a rope line to safety but the stubborn captain, who'd been warned that he was sailing into a light, refused to leave his ship. Yorke and five crew drowned when the mast snapped in the pounding sea.
There must be a ghost story here somewhere.
A new flashing tower light replaced the original stationary light in 1920, but the poor keepers didn't get a new abode for another eight years. The dwelling, by that time, was infested with creepy crawlies who raided the house at night so the poor keepers couldn't sleep. Beetles, wood mites, wood lice, and other sundry insects appeared everywhere: in their food, in their hair, and in their beds.
Thank goodness, I didn't have that experience. The only infestation I remember was mice. I was constantly having to trap them in the basement. I won't say where. But mice and rats are pretty common in the best of neighbourhoods.
Finally, in 2000, an archaeological study provided enough evidence—shell midden, bones, and petroglyphs—to declare Chrome Island a protected archaeological site.
Chrome Island is an oasis at the southern entrance of Baynes Sound in the Strait of Georgia. I'd love to work there one day. I'm curious whether any of the keepers ever experienced any hauntings there as they have done in other lighthouses.
Do you have any lighthouse haunting stories? If so, leave a quick story in the comments.
Thanks to Lighthouse Friends for all their wonderful research on B.C. lighthouses.
