The Stevenson family of engineers, from whom Robert Louis was descended, pioneered the art of modern lighthouse-building and in so doing established themselves as one of the most important families in the country. Among their earliest ventures was the Bell Rock lighthouse, an astonishing feat of engineering led by Robert Stevenson. The Bell Rock, lying about 11 miles south-east of Arbroath, was, in Robert’s words, ‘a sunk reef … so situated as to have long proved an object of dread to mariners on the eastern coast of Scotland’. Because of the lowness of the reef, work could only be carried out between tides for periods of a few hours. The construction crew experienced several alarming episodes, but few were more terrifying than this occasion, early in its construction, when one of their three boats drifted away. The Smeaton was the boat assigned to the lighthouse crew, which had drifted off with the third boat in tow.
In this perilous predicament, indeed, he found himself placed between hope and despair … situate upon a sunken rock in the middle of the ocean, which, in the progress of the flood-tide, was to be laid under water to the depth of at least twelve feet in a stormy sea. There were this morning thirty-two persons in all upon the rock, with only two boats, whose complement, even in good weather, did not exceed twenty-four sitters; but to row to the floating-light with so much wind, and in so heavy a sea, a complement of eight men for each boat, was as much as could, with propriety, be attempted, so that, in this way, about one-half of our number was unprovided for. Under these circumstances, had the writer ventured to dispatch one of the boats in expectation of either working the Smeaton sooner up towards the rock, or in hopes of getting her boat brought to our assistance, this must have given an immediate alarm to the artificers, each of whom would have insisted upon taking to his own boat, and leaving the eight artificers belonging to the Smeaton to their chance. Of course, a scuffle might have ensued, and it is hard to say, in the ardour of men contending for life, where it might have ended. It has even been hinted to the writer, that a party of pickmen were determined to keep exclusively to their own boat against all hazards.
The unfortunate circumstance of the Smeaton and her boat having drifted, was, for a considerable time, only known to the writer, and to the landing-master, who removed to the farther point of the rock, where he kept his eye steadily upon the progress of the vessel. While the artificers were at work, chiefly in sitting or kneeling postures, excavating the rock, or boring with the jumpers, and while their numerous hammers, and the sound of the smith’s anvil continued, the situation of things did not appear so awful. In this state of suspense, with almost certain destruction at hand, the water began to rise upon those who were at work on the lower parts of the sites of the Beacon and Lighthouse. From the run of sea upon the rock, the forge fire was also sooner extinguished this morning than usual, and the volumes of smoke having ceased, objects in every direction became visible from all parts of the rock. After having had about three hours work, the men began, pretty generally, to make towards their respective boats for their jackets and stockings, when, to their astonishment, instead of three, they found only two boats, the third being adrift with the Smeaton.
Not a word was uttered by any one, but all appeared to be silently calculating their numbers, and looking to each other with evident marks of perplexity depicted in their countenances. The landing-master, conceiving that blame might be attached to him for allowing the boat to leave the rock, still kept at a distance. At this critical moment, the author was standing upon an elevated part of Smith’s Ledge, where he endeavoured to mark the progress of the Smeaton, not a little surprised that her crew did not cut the praam [a flat-bottomed boat] adrift, which greatly retarded her way, and amazed that some effort was not making to bring at least the boat, and attempt our relief. The workmen looked steadfastly upon the writer, and turned occasionally towards the vessel, still far to leeward. All this passed in the most perfect silence, and the melancholy solemnity of the group made an impression never to be effaced from his mind.
The writer had all along been considering of various schemes, – providing the men could be kept under command, – which might be put in practice for the general safety, in hopes that the Smeaton might be able to pick up the boats to leeward, when they were obliged to leave the rock. He was, accordingly, about to address the artificers on the perilous nature of their circumstances, and to propose, That all hands should unstrip their upper clothing, when the higher parts of the rock were laid under water; that the seamen should remove every unnecessary weight and encumbrance from the boats; that a specified number of men should go into each boat, and that the remainder should hang by the gunwales, while the boats were to be rowed gently towards the Smeaton, as the course to the Pharos or floating-light lay rather to windward of the rock.
But when he attempted to speak, his mouth was so parched, that his tongue refused utterance, and he now learned by experience that the saliva is as necessary as the tongue itself for speech. He then turned to one of the pools on the rock and lapped a little water, which produced immediate relief. But what was his happiness, when, on rising from this unpleasant beverage, some one called out ‘A boat, a boat!’ and, on looking around, at no great distance, a large boat was seen coming through the haze making towards the rock. This at once enlivened and rejoiced every heart. The timeous visitor proved to be James Spink, the Bell Rock pilot, who had come express from Arbroath with letters. Spink had, for some time, seen the Smeaton, and had even supposed, from the state of the weather, that all hands were on board of her, till he approached more nearly, and observed people upon the rock; but not supposing that the assistance of his boat was necessary to carry the artificers off the rock, he anchored on the lee-side and began to fish, waiting, as usual, till the letters were sent for, as the pilot-boat was too large and unwieldy for approaching the rock, when there was any roughness or run of the sea at the entrance of the landing creeks.
Upon this fortunate change in circumstances, sixteen of the artificers were sent, at two trips, in one of the boats … the remaining sixteen followed in the two boats belonging to the service of the rock. Every one felt the most perfect happiness at leaving the Bell Rock this morning, though a very hard and even dangerous passage to the floating-light still awaited us, as the wind, by this time, had encreased to a pretty hard gale, accompanied with a considerable swell of the sea.