A Pocketful of Passage

3. Captain Needlenose

13 Mr. Lane and Daddy sat at the kitchen table early in the morning. They sipped black coffee and reviewed their chore list: clean the brass, wind the clockwork in the tower, paint the back door, overhaul the boat engine, and complete the maintenance check for the fog signal. There was always work to do. Keepers knew their stations must be carefully maintained and ready to respond to an emergency or sudden storm. Captain Needlenose 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀13 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:38฀PM A Pocketful of Passage 14 “Let’s get to it,” Mr. Lane said as he emptied his cup with one last swallow. Daddy stuffed dustcloths in his pockets and put on his soft cobbler apron so he wouldn’t scratch any of the brass fittings with his shirt buttons. He picked up a small oilcan to lubricate the gears and moving parts in the lantern room and fog signal, plus a toolbox filled with wrenches, pliers, and various screwdrivers. “I’ll be in the tower,” he said. Mr. Lane nodded and went to the radio room to update the logbook. Every day he recorded weather conditions and what he and my father did to maintain the station. He noted any visitors, when he or Daddy went to Isle Royale, and any other important happenings in a large notebook. This logbook was kept in a special cupboard in the wall of the windowless radio room. Daddy told me the windows had been bricked over many years ago to protect the logs and the radio they used for talking to ships and other Coast Guard stations. When pelting rain and high winds rattled the windows in the other rooms until I was sure they would crack, I knew my Daddy was right. While Mr. Lane worked, the radio hissed, “Passage Island , this is Rock of Ages.” Mr. Lane picked up the microphone and replied, “Rock of Ages, this is Passage Island.” “The Amaranth just left here and is headed your way. The inspector is aboard. Just thought you’d like to know.” 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀14 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:38฀PM Captain Needlenose 15 “Roger and thank you,” Mr. Lane replied. The Coast Guard inspected every light station each year. The inspectors were very thorough and very strict. They checked everything from the top of the tower to the corners behind the woodstove. If something did not work perfectly, was dirty or out of order, the keepers received demerits. Inspections were supposed to be a surprise, but often the lightkeepers at one station radioed the men at the next station so they could be ready. Mr. Lane ran to the tower door and called up the stairs, “Hey Vern, the inspector’s on his way. He’ll be here before lunch!” The Rock of Ages light station was located off the southwest tip of Isle Royale, about fifty-five miles away. Mr. Lane knew that the Amaranth would probably dock at Passage Island in about three hours. They would have to work quickly but they would be ready. As the men hurried from the tower to the fog signal to double-check all the equipment, Mama sprang into action. She folded laundry, tidied the kitchen, and checked the cupboards and under the beds. The Coast Guard did not allow clutter. “Annie, put your slippers away and straighten the pillows on your bed.” “Johanna, be a good girl and sweep the back steps while I straighten the pantry. Oh dear, I think I left a spoon in the sink!” When we were very sure that everything inside and 01฀Campbell฀text.indd฀฀฀15 12/8/06฀฀฀1:53:38฀PM A Pocketful of Passage 16 outside was shipshape, Mama made us change into good clothes. This was one of the few times Jo and I wore dresses and tied bows in our hair. She washed Sonny’s face and hands and had us sit on the front steps with some picture books. “Stay right here while I change,” she ordered. “Read your stories and show Sonny the pictures. Do not get dirty and mind your manners when the inspector arrives. Don’t say a word, Annie. Do you understand?” “Yes, ma’am,” I said. Last year I had gotten into trouble when I told the inspector that he should not give Passage Light a demerit because the hinge on the back...