#LAST LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER PATCH#

The Drews, who had already bought land near the lighthouse, vacated their government-owned home and moved into their goat barn. The island had everything they wanted, and they saw no reason to leave. When the Canadian Coast Guard automated the light, forcing him out of the job along with hundreds of other Nova Scotia lighthouse keepers, he and his wife stayed.

Drew was the assistant lighthouse keeper at Mosher Island, which has had a lighthouse in continuous operation since 1868. Accessible only by boat, it’s only about a half-an-hour ride from the mainland, but a world away from the lifestyle of convenience that most people are used to.įrom 1981 until 1990, Mr. now go back to the Keepers room, look at the staircase on the right here, there are two very hard to see plates on this staircase, use Candle for Brian on the right plate, use Candle for Brenda on the left plate to open door at the top of these stairs to the third level, go up and enter third level, enter living room with toy train then open door to hallway, continue to room with piano, open.

#LAST LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER PATCH#

It’s a small price to pay for the home they have created for themselves as the only year-round residents of Mosher Island, a three-kilometre-long patch of rock and spruce trees that they share with two dogs, eight goats, a dozen chickens, two cats and a few ducks. The Drews figure they have lost about six boats one way or another since they came here in the 1980s. Other times, violent storms smash them to pieces against the shore. The lighthouse hes been manning on Prince Albert Rock, off the wild Cornish coast, is about to become automated. The sea pulls at their ropes until they finally give. Drew, 72, has learned to accept that sometimes, boats just disappear. “That was my wife’s favourite boat.”Īfter nearly 40 years of living on Mosher Island, Mr. “I’m going to be in real trouble if I can’t find that one,” he shouted over the roar of the outboard motor. Evocatively told, The Last Lighthouse Keeper is a love story between a man and a dying way of life, as well as a celebration of wilderness and solitude. On a recent Monday morning, it took one more – Anne Drew’s little green skiff.īy the time the fog was burning off, her husband, Thom Drew, had launched a search-and-rescue mission, tearing over the waves in his motorboat and squinting toward the blue horizon, looking for some sign of the boat that slipped its moorings and floated away in the night. The sea that thrashes at the rocks along Nova Scotia’s South Shore has claimed hundreds of ships since record keeping began here. He and his wife are still there, living a solitary and hard-working life, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. Events are planned for downtown Boston’s waterfront and other parts of mainland Massachusetts. The waters around Mosher Island can be treacherous, and it was Thom Drew’s job to help ships navigate them – until the Coast Guard automated lighthouses like his. Sally Snowman, the Coast Guard’s last resident keeper, is helping with celebrations.

Last lighthouse keeper