Lighthouse Keepers Lament
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Difficulty:
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Terrain:
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Size: 
(small)
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Located near the top of St. Simons Island Lighthouse. The cache is available whenever the Lighthouse is open.
Park at the Lighthouse or anywhere nearby. Don't forget your camera. There is a $12 fee to climb the Lighthouse. When you enter the Lighthouse, climb 129 steps to the top. I am there after 4:30 PM most Thursdays, say hello to the guys cleaning the lens, and maybe we will have time for a tour. Your entry fee also gives you access tot he Historic Coast Guard museum.
This is a small container with room for a few items, there is a log, a pen. The view is your prize.
While you are at the top of the Lighthouse enjoy the view. You can see 5 islands on a clear day. Jekyll, Little Cumberland to the South. St. Simons, Sea Island and Little St. Simons Islands to the North. How many buoys can you count looking out to sea? Log your find on the wifi connection nearby.
When you go back down, go out back and see if you can find the two benchmarks, BR0078 and BR0079.
Be sure to visit the museum and see how Lighthouse Keepers lived in the late 1800's.
This Cache is named for the poem that describes the hardest work a Keeper has to.
It’s Brasswork: The Light-Keepers Lament.
Oh what is the bane of a lightkeeper’s life
That causes him worry, struggle and strife,
That makes him use cuss words and beat on his wife?
It’s BRASSWORK
What makes him look ghastly consumptive and thin,
What robes him of health, vigor and vim,
And causes despair and drives him to sin?
It’s BRASSWORK
The devil himself could never invent,
A material causing more world wide lament,
And in Uncle Sam’s service about ninety percent
Is BRASSWORK
The lamp in the tower, reflector and shade,
The tools and accessories pass in the parade,
As a matter of fact the whole outfit is made
Of BRASSWORK
The oil containers I polish until
My poor back is broken, aching and still,
Each gallon, each quart, each pint and gill
Is BRASSWORK
I lay down to slumber all weary and sore,
I walk in my sleep, I awake with a snore,
And I’m shining the knob on my bedchamber door
That BRASSWORK
From pillar to post rags and polish I tote,
I’m never without them, for you will please note,
That even the buttons I wear on my coat,
Are BRASSWORK
The machinery, clockwork, and fog signal bell,
The coals hods, the dustpans, the pump in the well,
No I’ll leave it to you mates...If this isn’t...well,
BRASSWORK
I dig, scrub and polish, and work with a might,
And just when I get it all shinning and bright,
In come the fog like a thief in the night,
Goodbye BRASSWORK
I start the next day when noontime draws near,
A boatload of summer visitors appear,
For no other reason than to smooch and besmear,
My BRASSWORK
So it goes along all summer, and along in the fall,
Comes the district machinists to overhaul,
and rub dirty paws all over,
My BRASSWORK
And again in the spring, if per chance it may be,
An efficiency star is awarded to me,
I open the package and what do I see?
More BRASSWORK
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud,
In the short span of life that he is allowed,
If all the lining in every dark cloud,
Is BRASSWORK
And when I have polished until I am cold,
And I have taken my oath to the Heavenly fold,
Will my harp and my crown be made of pure gold?
No! BRASSWORK
Frederic W. Morong, circa 1925
Additional Hints
(Decrypt)
3/21/24 vafgnyyrq arj pbagnvare naq fjnt.