The Night Shift at Cape Hatteras

In 1999, Kevin Duffus interviewed one of the last living lighthouse keepers from Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. The old keeper described his nightly routine with startling precision: trim the wick at sunset, wind the clockwork mechanism every four hours, polish the Fresnel lens at midnight, and never — not once — let the light go dark. Ships depended on it. Lives depended on it.

"Weren't you tempted to sleep?" Duffus asked.

The keeper shook his head. "You don't sleep when someone's counting on the light."

He explained that the most dangerous nights were the calm ones. When storms raged, every keeper stayed sharp. But on quiet, still evenings — when the sea lay flat and no ships appeared on the horizon — that was when drowsiness crept in. That was when keepers failed.