Hurricane of ’38

But from twelve to two o’clock the sea began to pound on the station with a terrible force. The sky had an amber color, shutting us in so we had to start the fog system. By three o’clock the wind blew a gale and the sea began to go higher and higher. Pounding with such a force that it smashed up all the boats and by four o’clock we had lost part of our rain shed, one oil tank, a boat landing, also smashing in the engine room roof and flooding the engines and putting the fog signal out of commission.

1938 Hurricane attacks the WWI Doughboy statue at the base of the Stone Bridge (seen in the distance). The lobster shack is shown on the right, partially submerged.

At five-thirty I went into the tower to light up. While there, we took what was called the tidal wave. There were three seas that went by that completely buried the tower. The first sea that came along was the one that caused us the most damage. That one broke seven deck plates out of our upper deck, which is fifty-six feet from the average high water. That sea, when it hit the tower, sounded like a cannon. And it hit with such a force as to knock me off my feet and still I did not know that it had done the damage so high up on the tower. I thought it was part of the rain shed or the engine room that had carried away. But when I finished lighting up and started to go downstairs I was some surprised to find I had to crawl through some broken deck plates that had fallen over the stairs blocking them so it was quite a job to get below.

Stone Bridge during the 1938 Hurricane, barely visible. A tea room washed away just before this was taken.

Of course there were two of us at the station during the storm and I must say that neither I or Mr. Bouley, the first assistant, were afraid or considered ourselves in any danger. Although from two pm until three am we were up to our knees in water.

There were plenty done but not much said, once in a while when an extra heavy sea hit the tower Mr. Bouley would say, “Well I guess that one means business, it don’t seem to be taking any fooling.”

1938 Hurricane snaps boats from their moorings in the Tiverton Basin and pushes them toward the Railroad Bridge.

There were only once when I felt as if I were in for it that was when I tried to haul cleats to a door to keep the main force of waters out of the kitchen. A sea hit the window smashing out glass frame and all and several pieces hit me on the arm. And one hit me in the mouth giving me a slight cut.

But Mr. Bouley came to my rescue with a jar of Vicks salve and a roll of bandage and stopped the bleeding. So things went on as usual from then on.

During all this time we were taking the worst beating that we ever took in my twenty years of lighthouse service. The water got so bad inside that we gave up trying to force it out so we gave up and wrapped ourselves in blankets and sat side by side in the kitchen swapping yarns wondering when the wind would shift and quiet the sea down so we could get outside to look around.

1938 Hurricane waters piling up boats along the railroad tracks at the foot of Evans Avenue and Riverside Drive in Tiverton.

Finally, I got tired of sitting in a chair and at 3 am I turned into a bed that was wet and still taking water every once in a while, but I did go to sleep for two hours. All this time Mr. Bouley was calking off in a chair in the kitchen.

At sunrise Mr. Bouley put the light out and called me to see the beach. And were we surprised when we looked at the point and saw that everything had been washed away.

North of Stone Bridge showing the Hummocks in the distance. Aftermath of the 1938 Hurricane, showing where stores, gas stations, and restaurants used to be before the tidal wave washed all away.

After the 1938 Hurricane waters subsided, boats were piled up alongside the Railroad Bridge in Tiverton.

Well I often get a great kick out of life when I think of several people telling me that some day the sea would wash us off of here. My only reply would be, “Well, when it does you do not want to be on Sakonnet Point.”

William H. Durfee, Sakonnet Point lighthouse keeper