Perched on the rugged southeastern coast of Tasmania, the Tasman Island Lighthouse stands as a testament to human perseverance against the formidable forces of nature. As the highest operating lighthouse in Australia, it marks the eastern entrance to the aptly named Storm Bay. This remarkable structure holds the distinction of being the last manned lighthouse built in Tasmania and was once considered one of Australia’s most isolated outposts.

The story of the lighthouse begins in August 1885, when the Consolidated Marine Board first discussed establishing a lighthouse near Cape Pillar. After evaluating potential sites including the Cape itself and Hippolyte Rocks, Tasman Island was selected. Despite initial recommendations for construction in 1886, the proposal languished until 1903 when approval was finally granted. Marine Board architects Huckson & Hutchison prepared plans, and tenders were called in July 1904. Potential contractors traveled aboard the SS Nubeena to inspect the site, and many were immediately struck by the immense natural challenges they would face, with some unable even to land due to heavy swells.

Undaunted, Hobart builders Henricksen & Knutsen submitted the lowest bid of £10,497/10/- and secured the contract on August 9, 1904. Work commenced in October that year, but before construction of the lighthouse itself could begin, workers had to create a landing and haulage system, which required blasting through sections of the island’s steep cliffs. A steam crane with a 60-foot radius, previously used in the construction of Hobart’s GPO, was installed to assist with the monumental task ahead.

The lighthouse itself arrived in pieces—a prefabricated cast-iron tower and first-order lens manufactured by Chance Brothers of Birmingham, England. Each of the heavy cast-iron plates, weighing up to 13 cwt (approximately 660 kg), took as long as eight hours to transport from the landing to the construction site. Once there, they were meticulously bolted together and positioned on a concrete base. Three keeper’s cottages were constructed from solid brick, with protective sheds for wood and coal built under the same roof to shield these essential supplies from the island’s notorious weather. By the time the project was completed, costs had ballooned to approximately £22,000—a significant sum for the era.

The first superintendent, George Johnston, arrived with his assistants J. McGuire and E. Davis in December 1905. By the time Master Warden A.E. Risby officially opened the lighthouse on April 2, 1906, the keepers had already established vegetable gardens, an early sign of their determination to create a sustainable life on this remote outpost.

From the beginning, the lighthouse faced numerous challenges. The tower frequently vibrated extensively during strong winds, causing lamp mantles to fracture. An entry in the log for March 20, 1907, reveals: “The tower vibrated to such an extent that it shook the mantles to pieces; had to substitute the wick-burner at 2 a.m.” During a particularly severe storm in 1919, verandahs and fences were blown away, water tanks were dislodged from their stands, and outbuildings shifted off their foundations. The winds were so powerful that vibrations in the lantern room destroyed five mantles, and two pounds of mercury jumped out of the race, requiring replacement.

The harsh environment took its toll on the island itself. Once thickly forested, Tasman Island was soon almost bare as logbooks regularly recorded the Assistant’s Saturday duties as “cutting firewood.” As early as 1913, Station Superintendent W. Kirkwood observed that “the effects of denuding the island for a fuel supply” might be contributing to the severe storm damage experienced at the lightstation. Later that year, he noted: “Blew whole gale last night—fierce squalls, smashed up more fencing Superintendent’s quarters.” Today, the island shows signs of recovery, with native vegetation returning in more sheltered areas.

Life on the island involved a delicate balance with nature. Keepers maintained flocks of up to 500 sheep, along with cattle, pigs, and goats. However, the island’s treacherous terrain claimed many animals, which regularly disappeared down various sinkholes and clefts, never to be seen again. From 1906, lighthouse keepers diligently recorded daily weather observations in their logbooks, though official observations for the Bureau of Meteorology did not begin until 1922, when daily rainfall readings commenced. Eventually, an automatic weather station installed in 1991 would forward observations directly to the Bureau.

Perhaps the greatest challenge of life on Tasman Island was its isolation, particularly the difficulty of accessing supplies. Seas were frequently too rough for supply ships to approach, making landings perilous. Initially, goods arrived via the northwest side of the island, where a track known as the Zigzag had been constructed. Supplies were hoisted ashore using a hand-crane before being transported up the steep cliffs. Later, a landing platform was built on the more sheltered northeast corner, featuring a crane operated by a steam-driven donkey engine. From there, twin trolleys—one ascending as the other descended—navigated the imposing 1:1 slope with the aid of a Jelbart motor or a horse operating a whim.

Commander CRW Brewis, visiting in 1911, reported that while the lightstation was “modern and in good condition,” the “steam crane was old when erected and now admittedly dangerous.” Despite this warning, it wasn’t until 1927 that work began on a replacement. Disaster struck during construction when the crane unexpectedly collapsed, throwing rigger William Groombridge into the water below. His body was never recovered. Another worker, Orlando Patterson, was more fortunate—he survived, albeit dangling upside-down with his foot caught in wire. Bad weather prevented medical assistance for several days before Patterson could finally be evacuated to a hospital aboard the steamer Cartela. This tragedy prompted the installation of a flying fox system, which became operational in 1929. Remarkably, the original steam crane remained on the bank near the landing for nearly 90 years until it was finally washed into the sea during a storm in June 2016.

Communication with the mainland presented another significant challenge. For the first two decades, carrier pigeons provided the primary link to Tasmania, though the birds were often reluctant to depart due to overfeeding. The 1930s brought wireless communications connecting Tasman Island with lightstations at Cape Bruny and Maatsuyker Island. Later, the introduction of radio telephones further reduced the keepers’ sense of isolation.

The remoteness of Tasman Island particularly affected healthcare. Most women left the island to give birth, though in 1920, Head Keeper Leslie B. Johnston and his wife Stella welcomed their daughter Eileen on the island with the assistance of Nurse Cleary. The isolation also made residents especially vulnerable to infectious diseases. After one keeper returned from Hobart in October 1921, everyone on the station fell ill with influenza. The Head Keeper was particularly affected, and it was two weeks before a log entry noted: “All on station been very ill with flu but are now recovering.” Lighthouse families on offshore stations were particularly susceptible to colds and influenza since they were so isolated that they had little opportunity of acquiring immunity. In one tragic instance, a keeper’s wife shared her medication with a newly arrived family suffering from severe colds, only to see her own child die of respiratory failure while the newcomers recovered.

During World War II, lightkeeping was classified as a reserved occupation, preventing keepers from enlisting. Unlike many other lighthouses, Tasman Island has no European graves, though in 1913, a “very ancient” skull was discovered and subsequently forwarded to the Tasmanian Museum. This mysterious find sparked speculation about the island’s pre-European history and led to whispered tales among lighthouse keepers about Aboriginal spirits that might still roam the windswept cliffs.

The isolation and extreme weather conditions of Tasman Island created the perfect setting for supernatural tales. Keepers frequently reported strange phenomena—unexplained noises in the tower at night, tools mysteriously relocated, and shadowy figures glimpsed at the edge of vision during fierce storms. One persistent story tells of a phantom lightkeeper who appears at the lantern room during particularly dangerous storms, supposedly the spirit of a keeper who perished at sea while attempting to reach the mainland during an emergency. Though never officially documented in the logbooks, these accounts were passed down through generations of lighthouse families.

The treacherous waters surrounding Tasman Island have claimed numerous vessels over the centuries. The most infamous wreck occurred in 1897 when the merchant vessel “Northern Star” struck the jagged rocks near Cape Pillar during a violent storm, with the loss of all twenty-three crew members. For years afterward, fishermen reported hearing desperate cries for help during stormy nights. In 1908, the coastal steamer “Kawatiri” nearly met a similar fate when it drifted dangerously close to the island during engine failure, saved only by a fortuitous wind change—an incident that reinforced the need for the lighthouse’s guiding beam.

The waters off Cape Pillar became known as the “Devil’s Kitchen” among local sailors due to the unpredictable currents, sudden squalls, and dangerous rock formations. Maritime charts from the early 1900s mark several “uncertain wrecks”, vessels reported missing whose exact location of sinking remained unknown but were last seen in the vicinity of Tasman Island. The lighthouse keepers occasionally found wreckage washed ashore, fragments of wooden hulls, personal effects, and once, according to station records from 1922, a ship’s bell of unknown origin that was sent to maritime authorities but never identified.

The lighthouse served faithfully for seven decades before modernization arrived. In 1976, the original lantern room, lens, and clockwork mechanism were dismantled and removed, replaced by a smaller GRP (Glass Reinforced Plastic) structure as the light was automated. The last keeper departed on May 20, 1977, ending the era of manned operation. Since then, the Australian Maritime Safety Authority and its contractor, Australian Maritime Systems Ltd, have maintained the light, which was converted to solar power in 1991.

Today, the lighthouse uses a Vega VRB25 light source with a character of Flashing 7.5 seconds (Flash 0.1s – Eclipse 7.4s), producing 63,000 candelas with a geographical range of 39 nautical miles and a nominal range of 18 nautical miles. Standing 29 meters tall at an elevation of 276 meters, the white round metal tower continues its vigilant service.

Local folklore includes the tale of the “Tasman Light Lady”—a ghostly female figure said to appear in the windows of the keeper’s quarters on the anniversary of a tragic accident in the 1920s. Some believe she was the wife of a keeper who fell to her death from the cliffs while searching for her husband during a storm. Helicopter pilots who now service the lighthouse occasionally report unusual equipment malfunctions and inexplicable radio static when approaching the island during poor weather, phenomena jokingly attributed to the island’s supernatural guardians.

Perhaps the most mysterious incident occurred in 1945, when lighthouse keepers reported a “ghost ship” drifting past the island with no signs of life aboard. Naval records indicate a vessel was dispatched to investigate but found nothing. Some speculate it may have been wreckage from a Japanese midget submarine damaged during the Sydney Harbor attack, though official histories dismiss this as improbable.

Maritime archaeologists have identified at least seven significant wreck sites within a ten-mile radius of Tasman Island, and local divers occasionally report finding scattered debris fields suggesting many more undocumented losses. The jagged underwater topography around the island has prevented thorough exploration, leaving many secrets still hidden beneath the waves. Each discovered artifact—from ship fittings to personal items—adds another chapter to the island’s rich maritime history.

The lighthouse’s historical significance has been widely recognized. In 1915, management of lighthouses transferred to the Commonwealth. The Tasman Island lightstation was added to the Register of the National Estate in 1980, as well as the Tasmanian Heritage Register. In 2004, the lighthouse itself was added to the Commonwealth Heritage register. The original first-order Fresnel lens can now be viewed at the Australian National Maritime Museum in Sydney, while the original lantern is on loan to the Friends of Tasman Island and currently stored in Hobart.

Tasman Island is now part of the Tasman National Park, administered by the Tasmanian Parks & Wildlife Service. The Australian Maritime Safety Authority leases the lighthouse and surrounding land (2,456 square meters including the solar array and helipad) from the Tasmania Parks & Wildlife Service under an agreement signed on May 1, 1998, for 25 years with an option for a 25-year extension. Either annually or biennially, the lighthouse and island open for public access via helicopter tours organized by the Rotary Club of the Tasman Peninsula, allowing visitors to experience firsthand this remarkable monument to human ingenuity and perseverance against the wild forces of nature.

Technical Details:
First Exhibited: 1906
Architect: Huckson & Hutchison
Status: Active
Location Lat: 43˚ 14.3722S Long: 148˚ 00.3046 E
Original Optic: 1st Order – 5 panel
Current Optic: VEGA VRB25
Demanned: May 1977
Construction: White segmented cast iron round metal tower
Tower Height: 29 m
Elevation: 276 m
Range Nominal: 18 NM Geographical: 39 NM
Character: Fl. W. 7.5 s
Intensity: 63,000 cd
Light Source: 12V, 35W QH
Power Source: Solar
Operator: AMSA
Notes Original lens on display at Australian Maritime Museum Sydney (November 2016)