Published on this website with permission by the author Yelda Miedema. This is an excerpt from an article previously published in the Wolfe Island Historical Society Windword periodical.

The Mystery of the Lighthouse

By Yelda Miedema

Stop anyone at random on the streets of Kingston, ask if s/he knows where Simcoe Island is, and you are as likely as not to be met with a vacant look. Ask if she/he knows that Simcoe Island happens to be home to the oldest continuously operating Canadian lighthouse on the Great Lakes and watch that vacant look turn into one of utter incredulity.

Remarkably, just “Nine Miles” south of Kingston, on the south western “Point“ of Simcoe Island, resides what is without a shadow of doubt one of the most remarkable artifacts of Canada’s maritime heritage, the venerable 180-year old Nine Mile Point Lighthouse. Not only is it Canada’s oldest “active” Great Lakes lighthouse, it is one of the oldest active lighthouses in the entire Western Hemisphere, older even than such better-known lighthouses as the Fisgar Lighthouse in British Columbia (1860), the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse on the Outer Banks of North Carolina (1870), or the St Augustine Lighthouse guarding the inlet to the oldest city in the United States, St. Augustine Florida (1874).

In fact, the Nine Mile point Lighthouse, which has been in continuous operation since it was built in 1833, is so old that it predates the very birth of our nation by a full 34 years. It’s so old that the “twinkle” of its beacon, clearly visible at night from Kingston’s waterfront, would have caught the eye of Canada’s first Prime Minister, Sir John A. Macdonald, when he was but a mere lad of 18.

It’s so old that this year, 2013, it will celebrate its 180^th birthday. And, if past history is any guide, it will do so quietly and inconspicuously, with no fanfare, no celebrities, and no champagne. Why? Because this jewel of Canada’s maritime heritage also just happens to be one of the nation’s best-kept maritime secrets. Virtually no one knows it’s there, nor how historically significant it truly is.

While few people know of Simcoe Island’s historic Nine Mile Point Lighthouse, one would be hard-pressed to find anyone at all who knows that the lighthouse actually owes its very existence to the Rideau Canal. That’s right, but for the Rideau Canal the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse might never have been built at all!

Another little known fact about the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse is that it was actually one of three lighthouses of identical “Imperial Lighthouse” design that were built in the short five-year span between 1828 and1833, at almost exactly the same time as the Rideau Canal was being built (1826-1832). Coincidence? Circumstantial evidence suggests not.

By the turn of the 18^th century Kingston had grown to be Upper Canada’s largest commercial centre and most important military town. Also, by this time the “navigational challenges” of the north shore of eastern Lake Ontario had long been well known to mariners. As any sailor familiar with the area can tell you, the many rocky shoals and islands, the prevailing on-shore “Southwesterlies”, the frequent sudden storms, when coupled with the dearth of safe harbours make navigating the waters from Point Petre to Kingston a tricky proposition at best, even with the help of modern technology. Never mind getting caught out there on the proverbial “dark and stormy night” with only a compass and not so much as a single lighthouse by which to set one’s course. Needless to say, this stretch of Lake Ontario came by its nickname, “Graveyard of Lake Ontario”, honestly.

It was no doubt these considerations that prompted the Legislative Assembly of Upper Canada to finally pass an act in 1803 to approve the construction of a lighthouse at Nine Mile Point on Simcoe Island (called Isle Forét, or Forest Island, back then) along with one at the entrance to Toronto Harbour (then Port York) and one at the mouth of the Niagara River. To wit, the following entry is duly recorded in the Journal of the Legislative Assembly of Upper Canada in March of 1803:

“and, whereas it will be necessary and essential to the safety of vessels, boats, rafts and other craft passing from Lake Ontario into the River Niagara and passing by the island called Isle Forest and likewise into the port of York that there should be a lighthouse erected at each of the said last mentioned places”

History records that the lighthouse at the mouth of the Niagara River was the very first lighthouse ever built in Upper Canada, in 1804. But it was demolished just 8 years later in 1812, in order to make way for the construction of Fort Niagara just as hostilities with the United States were ramping up.

The lighthouse at the entrance to York Harbour, the Gibraltar Point Lighthouse, was completed just a few years later in 1808 and, although deactivated in 1907, it remains the oldest lighthouse, Canadian or American, still standing on the entire Great Lakes.

Given that the seat of the Legislative Assembly of Upper Canada had only recently been moved from Niagara to York (now Toronto), and given further that on a clear day the Niagara Escarpment is actually visible from, and within only a few hours’ sail of York, and with York Harbour itself just a “stone’s throw” from the Assembly’s meeting place, it would have been nothing more than “good politics” to ensure that the lighthouses at the mouth of the Niagara River and York Harbour were built “ASAP”. After all, would there have been any better way for politicians to demonstrate to their constituents that they are “on the job” and “working hard” for them than to build a tall tower with a flashing light of the top that is visible both night and day for up to 24 miles? Local make-work projects designed to make politicians look like they are actually “working” for their constituents just didn’t get any better than that in 1804.

Building a lighthouse on a remote island at the other end of Lake Ontario on the other hand, the better part of a two-day sail from York, was another matter altogether.

Whatever the reason, and in spite of the fact that they were already paying for it, a lighthouse at Nine Mile Point remained nothing more than the figment of mariners’ imaginations for another quarter century. Say what? That’s right. In order to pay for the construction of the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse the Legislative Assembly of Upper Canada decided to levy a toll (a tax by any other name) on all commercial ships of 10 tons or more that passed Nine Mile Point in either direction. That’s like forcing drivers to pay a toll for the privilege of using a toll road that isn’t even built yet!

Needless to say, this was not a popular toll. In fact it was so unpopular that merchants began diverting their cargo south at Montreal, bypassing the upper St. Lawrence and Lake Ontario altogether, and getting their merchandise to Lake Erie via the United States. The toll was finally discontinued in 1818, but not before the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse “construction fund” had accumulated some £2000, enough to build a dandy lighthouse.

As it turns out, the money never was used to build a lighthouse at Nine Mile Point. Instead, it was diverted to the construction of a lighthouse and light keeper’s dwelling on False Duck Island in 1828, some 5 years before the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse was finally built. (The final tally for the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse, incidentally, was only £750, a veritable bargain!)

To this day it remains a mystery why, in spite of the navigational hazards of Eastern Lake Ontario, and in spite of Kingston’s commercial and military prominence, no lighthouse was built along this hazardous stretch of Lake Ontario for 25 years, and why the construction of the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse in particular was delayed until 1833.

In the absence of specific documentary evidence to the contrary, we are left to speculate as to the reasons. Was it a case of “all politics is local”? Was it perhaps the principle of “out of sight, out of mind”? Or was it the “squeaky wheel” syndrome?

In all probability it was a combination of all three. After all, a lighthouse on a remote, uninhabited island the better part of a 2-day sail from York was most definitely a case of “out of sight, out of mind”. Secondly, the “politics” of the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse were most assuredly not “local”, given the distance from York. And finally, if there was any “squeak” from the “wheel” churning to get the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse built, it was apparently not loud enough to be heard by the Commissioners of Internal Navigation in York some two days’ sail away.

Then there is the question of what Commissioner “in his right mind” would have dared venture to book passage aboard a sailing vessel bound for Kingston in order to gain “first-hand” knowledge of these navigational hazards at the other end of the lake. After all, doing so would have meant confronting the daunting prospect of transiting the “Graveyard of Lake Ontario”, quite possibly on that proverbial ”dark and stormy night.” Clearly the Commissioners of Internal Navigation felt no great political pressure to put up the lighthouse at Nine Mile Point that their political masters had approved in principle in 1803, no matter how great the threat to shipping, and even though the money to build the lighthouse was already “in the bank”.

This raises some relevant questions. What changed in the intervening 25 years, from the time the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse was first approved in 1803 until lighthouse construction along the treacherous north shore of eastern Lake Ontario finally began in earnest? And why the sudden flurry of lighthouse construction along the hazardous “Graveyard of Lake Ontario” between Point Petre and Kingston in that short 5-year span from 1828 to 1833?

The short answer? The Rideau Canal, construction of which, begun in 1826, had by 1828 reached its effective “point of no return”.

During the early part of the 19^th century one of Upper Canada’s “rising stars” was Kingston businessman and proprietor of the “Kingston Chronicle”, John Macaulay. As a businessman located in Eastern Upper Canada, Macaulay came to believe that the province’s future economic prosperity lay in increasing trade with Lower Canada, and that the best way to achieve it was to link the two provinces by means of a canal. The fact that Macaulay was a big fan of the Erie Canal in New York State, under construction at the time (1818-1825), no doubt helped convince him not only of the viability of such a canal, but also of the economic necessity of building it in order to remain competitive with the United States.

Meanwhile, with the ashes of the War of 1812-14 still smoldering along the St. Lawrence River Valley, the “Iron Duke” of Wellington began beating the drums back home in Britain for the need to improve the safety of the British Navy in the “Colonies”, and that a canal to bypass its common border with the still-hostile United States, the St. Lawrence River between Kingston and Montreal, was the best way to achieve it.

Together, Macaulay and Wellington proved successful in persuading the British government to underwrite the entire cost of the canal. As mentioned, construction of the canal started in 1826. It was completed six years later, in 1832, at the then staggering cost of £822,000, the equivalent of nearly $2 billion today.

Meanwhile John Macaulay found himself elevated to the position of President of the Commission of Internal Navigation, in other words, Upper Canada’s “builder-in-chief” of canals and lighthouses.

Having been instrumental in persuading Britain to bankroll the entire cost of the canal, Macaulay would have considered himself derelict in his duties as Chief Commissioner had he NOT also taken all reasonable steps to improve the safety of shipping bound for the soon-to-be-completed canal. In light of the nearly £1million Britain was ultimately to spend on its construction, the expenditure of a few thousand pounds to put up a lighthouse or two along the treacherous western approach to the Rideau Canal would have been the 19^th century equivalent of a “no brainer”.

It had been speculated at the time that a single, 65 foot tall lighthouse at Nine Mile Point (one just 20 feet taller than the one eventually built) would have been sufficient to ensure the safety of shipping all the way from Point Petre to the entrance of the Rideau Canal in Kingston. However Commissioner Macaulay, apparently in order to avoid even the slightest perception of being derelict in his duties, opted for “overkill” by commissioning no fewer than 3 lighthouses along the hazardous western approach to the Rideau, where one might well have sufficed: the False Duck Island Lighthouse in 1828, the Point Petre Lighthouse in 1832, and, last but not least, the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse on Simcoe Island in 1833.

All three lighthouses were designed by noted Kingston architect Thomas Rogers (better known as the architect of St. George’s Cathedral). All three were built by master builder Robert Matthews builder of St. Georges Cathedral. All three were “Imperial lighthouses”: tapered cylindrical masonry towers, built of locally gathered or quarried stone or beach “rubble”, with an internal spiral staircase leading to a 12-sided polygonal cast iron lantern room.

In fact the Imperial lighthouses at Point Petre, False Duck Island and Nine Mile Point were among the earliest “Imperial” lighthouses ever built in Canada, predating the better-known six Imperial lights of Lake Huron and Georgian Bay by some 25-30 years.

Sadly, the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse on Simcoe Island is today the sole survivor of this triad of Imperial lighthouses. The lighthouse on False Duck Island was demolished in 1966 at the ripe old age of 138 years, after a lightning strike had rendered it irreparable a few years earlier.

The original lighthouse at Point Petre on the southwestern tip of Prince Edward County, a lighthouse that together with its sister lighthouses at False Duck Island and Nine Mile Point had borne witness to the very birth of the nation in 1867, was ironically demolished in the year of Canada’s 100^th Birthday in 1967. Hell of a way for a country to celebrate a nation’s Centennial isn’t it? Knock down an historic lighthouse that had witnessed Confederation?

That John Macaulay was a “hands-on” Commissioner who took his duties very seriously is evidenced by the following passage from the Kingston Chronicle of Aug 1, 1829, which reads, in part:

“We learned from Mr. Macaulay, one of the Commissioners, who returned from False Ducks yesterday, that the lighthouse is completed.”

The circumstantial evidence presented above leaves little room to doubt that the lighthouses at Point Petre, False Duck Island and Nine Mile Point owed their very existence to the Rideau Canal. Nor can there be any doubt that their history is forever inextricably linked to what the UNESCO World Heritage Committee has recognized as one of the crowning achievements of 19^th century engineering and ingenuity, the Rideau Canal and the Kingston Fortifications.

It is a testament to its architect, to its builder, to the hardy keepers who tended its light through thick and thin, and to its enduring “Imperial” design, that today, nearly two centuries later, the Nine Mile Point Lighthouse is still doing what it has always done since the day its beacon first flickered to life in 1833. It is still showing mariners the way to the southern terminus of the Rideau Canal and guiding them safely back to port past the rocky shoals and islands of the “Graveyard of Lake Ontario”.