Perched atop the windswept cliffs of Bruny Islands southernmost point, the Cape Bruny Lighthouse has stood against the ferocious Southern Ocean for nearly two centuries. Constructed in 1836 it rises 13 meters above the rugged landscape with its beam reaching 26 nautical miles across some of the world’s most treacherous waters. The lighthouse’s construction came in direct response to a series of devastating shipwrecks that claimed countless lives along Tasmania’s unforgiving southern coastline.

The story of Cape Bruny Lighthouse begins with tragedy. In 1835, the convict transport ship “George III” struck a reef near Bruny Island during a violent storm resulting in the deaths of 133 convicts and crew who were trapped below decks. This catastrophe, along with the earlier wrecking of the “Hope” in 1827, convinced colonial authorities of the urgent need for a lighthouse on this dangerous stretch of coast. Governor George Arthur commissioned the lighthouse in 1835, which was built using convicts who painstakingly carved sandstone blocks and hauled them up the steep cape to create what would become Australia’s third oldest lighthouse tower.

Life at Cape Bruny was notoriously harsh for its keepers and their families. Isolated on the remote headland, they endured fierce storms, extreme weather, and a profound loneliness that we in the modern connected World find hard to comprehend. The keeper’s residence, still standing today, housed generations of lighthouse families who maintained the light through war and peace, prosperity and depression, year after year. Perhaps none faced greater challenges than James Baudinet, who served as keeper from 1865 to 1879. During his tenure, three of his children died at the lighthouse – two from illness in the same week in 1868, and later his son Thomas, who fell to his death from the tower in 1875. Their graves were dug in the windswept headland where there spent all of their short lives.

The lighthouse has accumulated its share of supernatural tales over the decades. Multiple keepers reported unexplained phenomena that seem to be present in most lighthouses, footsteps on the tower stairs when no one was there, unknown voices carried on the wind and mysterious lights seen offshore on calm, clear nights. Some attribute these occurrences to the restless spirits of those lost in the numerous shipwrecks that the lighthouse failed to prevent, other to the tricks the mind can play doe to isolation and rum. The most persistent ghostly resident is said to be young Thomas Baudinet, whose childish laughter has reportedly been heard echoing in the tower on still nights.

Perhaps the most peculiar incident in the lighthouse’s history occurred in 1913, when keeper William Jackson reported that for three consecutive nights, an unexplained light appeared to hover just offshore, moving in patterns that defied natural explanation. Jackson and his assistant kept detailed logs of the phenomenon, which disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared. Some locals speculated it was connected to a fishing vessel that had vanished in the area just days before though no wreckage was ever discovered.

Despite its vital role, the lighthouse could not prevent all maritime disasters. In 1920, the steamship “Southern Cross” ran aground on nearby rocks during heavy fog, claiming fifteen lives. More mysterious was the fate of the “Amelia J” in 1908, which disappeared entirely while in clear sight of the lighthouse. The only trace ever found was a single lifeboat containing the captain’s logbook, washed ashore at Adventure Bay three weeks later with its final entry reading simply: “It comes.”

The technology of the lighthouse evolved dramatically over its operational life. Initially illuminated by a complex array of oil lamps and reflectors that required constant maintenance, the light was upgraded in 1903 to kerosene vapor burning inside a massive Chance Brothers lens. This improvement created one of the most powerful beacons in the southern hemisphere. Keeper families had to maintain strict routines, with the light needing attention every few hours through the night regardless of weather conditions. During fierce storms, keepers would sometimes spend entire nights in the tower, ensuring the light remained burning when it was needed most.

The lighthouses isolation led to some remarkable episodes of self-sufficiency. During World War II, keeper Harold Adams and his family went six months without supply deliveries due to wartime restrictions. They survived by growing vegetables in the harsh soil, fishing the treacherous waters below the cliff, and raising goats for milk and meat. When supplies finally arrived, the family reportedly requested only salt, sugar, and books.

After 158 years of continuous operation, the Cape Bruny Lighthouse was decommissioned in 1996, replaced by a solar-powered automated beacon on the adjacent nearby Mabel head. The last keeper, John Cook, turned off the light that had guided mariners for generations and locked the tower door behind him, ending an era in Tasmania’s maritime history. Unlike many abandoned lighthouses that fell into disrepair, Cape Bruny was protected and later incorporated into the South Bruny National Park.

Today, the lighthouse stands as Tasmania’s oldest continuously staffed lighthouse and has become one of the island’s most significant heritage sites. Visitors can climb the original spiral staircase to the lantern room, stepping literally into history as they follow the same worn steps that generations of dedicated keepers ascended. From its vantage point, one can gaze out across the vast Southern Ocean – the same endless horizon that keepers watched for approaching vessels, and the same waters that swallowed ships whole despite the lighthouse keepers best efforts to keep them safe.

As twilight descends and tourists depart, Cape Bruny Lighthouse returns to its essential solitude. Standing tall against the gathering darkness, its tower now dark but no less imposing, it remains a testament to human determination in the face of nature’s awesome power and a silent witness to countless tales of tragedy, resilience, and mystery that have unfolded along Tasmania’s wild southern shores.

Technical Details:
First Exhibited: 1836
CurrentTower: Conical tower with double balcony and lantern room
Architect:
Status: Deactivated 1996
Location: Lat: 43° 29.6058′ S Long: 147° 08.8247′ E
Original Optic:
Automated
Demanned:
Height 13 m
Elevation 105 m
Range Nominal: 19 nm Geographical: 26 nm
Character Fl. W. 10 secs