Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Dreams of the Portland Head Light

Starting point is 00:00:00 Before tonight's episode, I want to let you know about our supporters' feed Get Sleepy Premium, the best way to experience the show and get a good night's sleep. With Get Sleepy Premium, everything is ad-free. You'll receive a bonus episode every week, and have full access to our entire back catalogue. Your support really helps, and means so much to us. Simply tap the link in the show notes to learn more. Now, a quick word from our sponsors who make it possible for us to bring you two free episodes each week. Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax relax and we get sleepy.

Starting point is 00:00:49 My name's Thomas and it's such a pleasure to be your host. Thanks for joining us. Abby will be reading this evening's story where we have the first installment of a series about a woman named Emma who is fulfilling a lifelong dream of researching lighthousees on the rugged coast of Maine in the northeastern United States. These stories will be a blend of travel and history that I know you're going to love. We'll be releasing a few of them over the coming months. Tonight she'll visit the state's oldest lighthouse, which dates to the dawn of the US.

Starting point is 00:01:39 In doing so, she'll discover that the true beauty of a lighthouse lies not just in its welcoming flash, but also in the steadfast devotion of its many keepers. So, let's take a little time now to settle in and transition towards a state of deep relaxation and sleepiness. I know it can be difficult to switch off the busyness in your mind or to let go of excess energy lingering in the body, but that's exactly why get sleepy as here. Close your eyes and take a nice deep breath. Feeling your body relax and sink into bed as you exhale. If you notice any thoughts drifting around in your mind, then just begin to imagine them as clouds floating in the sky. Separate yourself from the sense of your thoughts being you, and realize that you are simply the observer. Just like how you might lay on a field of soft grass and watch the clouds float by, you

Starting point is 00:03:29 can allow your thoughts to be detached, and just let them come and go across the blue sky. If your mind is particularly noisy tonight, the sky might be pretty full of clouds. But inevitably, the breeze will still carry those clouds away. You just lay back and observe. And as they clear, you become connected with the glow of the sun, a glow that envelops you both externally and internally, bringing warmth, reassurance and the coast of Maine. to be visiting. Emma couldn't have asked for a more glorious first morning on the coast of Maine. To be fair, late summer was considered by many, to be Maine's most beautiful season. At a time of year when other states were sweltering under the most oppressive heat of the summer, the weather in the far north

Starting point is 00:05:51 east flirted with perfection. Especially on the breezy southern and coast of the state, the average temperatures tended to be quite pleasant with plenty of sunshine and low humidity. Sure, there were days that got hotter, but this was not one of those days. Today Emma would enjoy perfect temperatures, sparkling sunshine and refreshing breezes for her very first journey to one of the country's most famous lighthouses. Arriving just last evening after a long drive from Boston, Emma had spent the night at a modest bed and breakfast in a leafy suburb of Portland, Maine. The home dated to the 19th century and was built in the state-leav Victorian style, with

Starting point is 00:06:53 a gracious porch and formal interior. The rooms inside were resplendent, with dark woodwork and tall ceilings. Her own bedroom was not large but it was outfitted with handsome wood furniture and a typically elegant white bedspread. Her windows overlooked the quiet, tree-lined street below. A continental breakfast was served in the woodpanel dining room in the morning. While she was enjoying warm, freshly baked muffins with fresh local blueberries, her hostess had asked after her plans for the day. Upon hearing of Emma's trip to Portland Headlight, she had certainly approved.

Starting point is 00:07:55 In her capacity as hostess, however, she had followed with her own advice. First, Emma must make time at the end of her visit to explore nearby Fort William Park. It was the site of several ecological restoration projects, and she said it was also the best way to get a sweeping view of the lighthouse from afar. From there, a visitor on a clear day like this one could also spot four other nearby lights. Second, she absolutely must have a lobster roll from the food truck there, which was quite well known. Emma could make no argument with this advice, since she was planning to eat as much lobster

Starting point is 00:08:55 as possible during this trip. Still, lunch seemed very far away as she savored the last few bites of sweet, crumbly muffin and drank her freshly squeezed orange juice. Emma was looking forward to taking its low today and enjoying every moment. After all, this was a long anticipated trip. Emma wasn't just a tourist, she was taking a sabbatical from her work as a history professor in order to gather research material for a book. Ever since she was a child, she had been fascinated by lighthouses. It wasn't just the structures themselves that held historical significance. Each site was

Starting point is 00:09:59 completely unique in many ways. Certainly, lighthouses had their own architectural details, but their position on the shore and the human stories that surrounded them were just as interesting. These intriguing beacons appeared to play a dramatic role in the lives of so many people, ranging from their faithful keepers to the intrepid mariners who depended on them for navigation. Each lighthouse had its own tale to tell. had its own tale to tell.

Starting point is 00:10:49 And what better place to indulge her love for lighthouses? The state of Maine was blessed with at least 60 historic examples of them. She wouldn't have the time or resources to see all of them, but she had chosen a few of the most interesting ones to start with. The Portland Headlight was not the tallest lighthouse in Maine. That honour was currently held by Boone Island Light, which stood 133 feet tall. It certainly wasn't the shortest lighthouse either. Nearby Portland breakwater light, affectionately nicknamed Buglight, stood a mere 19 and a half feet like a petite lacy white wedding cake.

Starting point is 00:11:51 Portland Headlight was however the oldest and most photographic house in the entire state of Maine. That made it an excellent place to begin. That made it an excellent place to begin. From a historical perspective, the Portland Headlight held the distinction of having been the first lighthouse commissioned by George Washington under the Lighthouse Act of 1789, which had transferred the construction and care of all American lighthouses to the federal government. With a tight budget in mind, he told the two local architects on the project to use rubble stone that could be easily hauled by oxen. With her delicious breakfast as fortification, Emma left the bed and breakfast behind for the day and headed out on her small quest.

Starting point is 00:13:02 As she drove the short distance to the lighthouse, she smiled to think that Rubblestone should hold up so marvelously well for such a long time. One of the charms of this particular lighthouse was the fact that it had never yet been rebuilt, although it had seen many alterations over the years. Unlike other similarly historic beacons, it was still standing in what was essentially its original form, with a tall, white, conical tower and a keeper's house below. As she drove through neighbouring fort with the impark and approached the sweeping view Emma had the odd feeling of entering a postcard. She had seen so very many pictures of this incredible place and the view today was even better than she had imagined it would be.

Starting point is 00:14:23 Upon entering the circular lot in front of the lighthouse, it was the keeper's house that first greeted her, nestled at the foot of the tower. As she surveyed the parking, she was grateful for her early start to the day, finding a spot was easy. Emerging into the bracing sea air, she locked up the car and walked down the wide path to the charming red roofed keepers house. to the charming red roofed keepers house. Now that the lighthouse was largely automated, this part served as the museum. The porch had arched eaves along the front

Starting point is 00:15:19 that gave it a personable and welcoming appearance. With stunning scenery unfolding to her left and right, however, she lingered outside for a while to take in the view. Although she knew that the tower itself was not generally open to the public, that the tower itself was not generally open to the public. Emma was eager to make her way around every inch of the exterior and see the structure from all sides. Proceeding past the museum, she came around the south side of the lighthouse. The wind was a bit stronger up here at the Portland Head and it blew her hair back with refreshing corners.

Starting point is 00:16:21 Walking to the fence at the edge of the property, she looked down. The waves crashed on the grey rocks below, sending frothy white spray high into the air. Emma was mesmerized by the motion of the water and closed her eyes. Lulled by the oddly peaceful sound of the active surf. She had seen the famous Edward Hopper painting of this beautiful sight. Emma had stood before it in a Boston museum, taking in the smooth lines and slightly softened aspect it gave the landscape. The water beyond the lighthouse in the hopper painting was completely tranquil, creating a very peaceful mood. Now, looking at the gently rolling ocean and the rugged slope before her, she felt like she was in an entirely different place. She felt like she was in an entirely different place. The sea was much more dynamic than she had realised, and each rock and blade of grass

Starting point is 00:17:54 popped with the colour she hadn't expected, based on Hopper's painting. She felt totally invigorated by this live version of a lighthouse she'd previously only seen as a static image. Turning to her left, she shielded her eyes from the cheerful morning sun and viewed the tower from below. Based on what she had read, it now stood 80 feet tall, but that had not always been true. With an almost comical history of its own, the tower had been short and then tall and then smaller again over the years. The original plan had been to make it only 58 feet tall.

Starting point is 00:18:59 Apparently, a subsequent order that it being increased to 72 feet caused one of the architects to quit. The other had stayed, completing the work within two years, and the Portland Headbeacon had first been there to 1791. 1791. This was not the end of the story though. In 1813, about 25 feet were removed from the tower because it had become damaged by leeks. Decades later, after the wreck of a ship called the Bohemian, the light was improved again with the addition of another 20 feet to the tower. By 1883, however, the completion of the nearby halfway rock light made officials feel the Portland headlight was less important. Once again, the tower lost its extra 20 feet. Mariners, however, did not like the new solution and missed the light they'd had before. They complained.

Starting point is 00:20:29 Therefore, the contest of a lighthouse was rather permanent affair. She now realised that was not really the case. This lighthouse had evolved over the years to keep up with the times. Emma slowly walked around the north side of this ever-revolving tower, surrounded by the cries of the seagulls. the cries of the seagulls. Looking out at the gently rolling water again, she noticed a small tourist boat coasting by. There were people on the deck taking photos of the lighthouse. She resisted the urge to wave, not wanting to distract from their postcard moment. She imagined that the scene from the water must be magnificent. Emma turned and looked up at the white tower again, her hair blowing wildly in the ocean breeze.

Starting point is 00:22:13 She could clearly see a place near the top where the type of stone that was used had changed, indicating an addition had been made. This must be the portion that was added and removed so often over the years. Knowing why it looked that way made her feel like she knew a funny secret. Another landmark she was looking for was the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow plaque. She had been surprised to learn that Longfellow was from Portland. Apparently he had often walked to the lighthouse and had eafen befriended some of the keepers. His famous poem The Lighthouse was widely considered to be based on this very spot. Emma wondered what longfellow would think about having a plaque on the grounds

Starting point is 00:23:31 of a place he had loved so much. It seemed like a pleasing legacy for such a fan of the Portland Headlight. Emma knew that much of what she wanted to see was going to be found inside the museum, so she walked back to the front entrance in the old keeper's house and bought a ticket. The inside was filled with thoughtful displays. Down the middle of the room, a glass case held models that showed the shape of the lighthouse as it evolved through different time periods. Along the walls were photos and narratives about the people who had kept the lighthouse shiny for so many years.

Starting point is 00:24:41 She walked quietly through the hushed atmosphere of the room, feeling an odd sense of reverence. The very first keeper was a man named Greenleaf who had no salary at the outset. He took on the job entirely for the privilege of living in the Keeper's house and farming and fishing in the area. He soon learned the hardships involved, however. The tasks of the Keeper were numerous, but one of the biggest ones was keeping the light burning with large quantities of whale oil. The keeper was also responsible for cleaning the light every day, and ice had to be removed from it all winter. Saying he couldn't go on without compensation, green leaf eventually won himself a salary of $160 per year. The amount increased over the years with subsequent keepers securing raises. Still, the pay was probably never really enough. Being a keeper was a tiring life with no time off.

Starting point is 00:26:28 A light station could never be left completely unattended, and many keepers reported going years without a vacation. The keeper with the distinction of the longest service was Joshua Strout, who had taken the job in 1869. Strout was quite a character, having gone to see at the age of 11. His wife was the assistant keeper alongside him and then his son took over the job when he came of age. In fact, it seemed Joshua and Mary Strout also raised many children while he worked as the keeper at Portland Headlight. Another entertaining tidbit she heard was that they also had a parent named Billy that

Starting point is 00:27:37 would cry, Joe, let's start the horn. It's foggy. Joshua's son Joseph took over as the headkeeper after him, and the Strout family kept the Portland headlight running for an impressive 58 years, or told. The Strouts weren't just well known for their longevity though. On Christmas Eve in 1886, they famously rescued the entire crew of a three-mastered ship called the Ani Maguire, which crashed on the rocks near the lighthouse. Apparently, the Strount family and other good Samaritans created a gang plan out of a ladder, and the captain, his wife, two mates and nine crew members all clambered across it to safety. The museum also held some artifacts that interested Emma, but she was most looking forward

Starting point is 00:28:57 to one thing in particular, the Frayile Lens. Created by a French physicist, these incredible lenses revolutionized light keeping around the world, eventually finding popularity in the United States. Prior to the time that the Portland Head acquired a franile lens, the tower was run using 16 whale oil lamps that were both dirty and cumbersome to maintain. Nowadays, electric lights were taking over most lighthouses, but the franile lens was a historical marvel that Emma wanted to see for herself. And there it was, standing before her in a glass case. Historian Eric Dolan had called Freynell lenses the crown jewels of lighthouse illumination and Emma understood why. Looking like something out of science fiction, the Freynell lens that had once graced the tower was now available for people to view

Starting point is 00:30:28 up close. Measuring four and a half feet across, the light had once been powered by an oil lamp with three wigs. It looked like a beautiful crystal spaceship. Although she understood why efficient electric lights had replaced these oil burning lamps, Emma mourned the loss of the exquisite fray now lenses a little bit. She was hoping to eventually visit one of the lighthouses where the oldest style of lamp was still in use.

Starting point is 00:31:15 There were only a few to be found. Emma had read about the special care that these ethereal lenses required. Naturally, the keepers had to keep the w with a feather brush while wearing a linen apron so as not to scratch the glass. Then during the daylight hours they had to close curtains around the lantern room to prevent sunlight from refracting to the point where it could set the oil on fire. Even though it had to have been better than maintaining a beacon lit by smoking whale oil. It sounded like a lot of work. After reading the entire timeline of the lighthouse and its many keepers, Emma was ready to get the wide of you of the entire site.

Starting point is 00:32:50 She returned to her car in the parking lot, grateful to be heading away from the museum as the flow of visitors grew greater. The car, out deliciously warm and still, after the constant cool breezes she'd experienced around the lighthouse. Putting on her seatbelt, she started the car. Then she backed out and carefully maneuvered it down the road to Fort William Park. Leaving her car she walked She walked forward to take in the view. Her lighthouse was off to her right, and here she was directly in front of the ocean. Taking a nearby path, she slowly strolled in the direction of the iconic beacon. The trail wound around a small cliff and rewarded her with a spectacular view of the entire lighthouse, soaring upward, etched against the midday sky.

Starting point is 00:34:29 Emma could only imagine how stunning it must look against a sunset. She could see some small figures here and there climbing over rocks that could be accessed from the path. The terrace of Boulders was like a staircase for the gods. Far from feeling or steer, the stony cliffside was bursting with signs of summer. In that particular beauty that belongs to the coast of Maine, Verden't Greenery worked its way through the rocky landscape, scattering bright pink beet roses everywhere. The result was a riot of bold and refreshing colour, even where the land ran abruptly into the sea. Emma realised all this fresh air had made her hungry.

Starting point is 00:35:49 She decided to get herself some lunch at the nearby lobster roll truck and then find somewhere scenic to enjoy it. Returning to the parking area, she stepped up to the counter and reviewed the menu. She wasn't an expert on lobster rolls, so she was interested to see that she had to make a choice a choice between two basic styles. One was the main style role, which was lobster served with just a bit of mayonnaise on a lightly grittled bun. The other type of role was Connecticut style, which meant she would get the lobster warm with butter. A few other more exotic options were offered, but Emma decided she should start with the basics. She ordered a main style role and a bottle of sparkling water, enjoying the incredible view and the warmest temperatures of the day while she waited. Once her lunch was in hand, she consulted the map provided in the parking lot. She noted that there was a then-scaped children's garden that sounded lovely. But the best view for her lunch

Starting point is 00:37:37 hour would be in the cliffside area of the park. Heading slightly uphill, she could see it was the perfect choice. Open areas of impossibly green grass rolled before her, offering plenty of places to relax. A yoga class was in session across the lawn. Emma spied a cheerful, red picnic table with an unbelievable view of the water and settled there to enjoy her picnic and gaze out upon the bay. Carefully unwrapping the red and white paper around her lunch, she couldn't suppress a smile. It had a very generous helping of lobster nestled inside what appeared to be a fairly ordinary hot dogman. Her first tentative bite revealed lightly dressed sweet lobster that was chilled. sweet lobster that was chilled. But it gave way to a warm, soft bread underneath. She wasn't sure how a hot dog roll could taste so good. Savoring her meal slowly, she sipped on the pleasantly fizzy water and surveyed the scene.

Starting point is 00:39:35 Very far out on the horizon, she could see a couple of tiny sailboats. From this far away they appeared to move very slowly. With the sun high in the sky and no clouds to be found, the water glistened like a canopy of diamonds. She had never seen water this shade of brilliant blue before. The luscious roll was gone all too soon. She wasn't ready to leave yet though. Emma also wanted to be sure to walk to the edge of the cliff and see if she could spot the four light houses the woman at the bed and breakfast had told her to look for. Shielding her eyes, she stood in the salty ocean breeze and scanned the horizon. There to the left, she spotted what she knew to be the sturdy looking spring-point ledge light. It emerged from blue at the end of a small breakwater.

Starting point is 00:41:19 Sweeping her gaze straight ahead, she saw what she guessed was Ram Island ledge light, which was closer to the size of the Portland headlight. Then, because it was a really clear day. She got lucky enough to detect half-way rock light further out. From what she understood that was the one she wouldn't have seen if the weather hadn't been so fine. fine. Then turning her gaze to the south, she got the final reward. Cape Elizabeth light was visible to the right. She had stood at Portland head and seen all the lighthouses there were to see. It was the perfect conclusion to her visit. Later that evening, Emma once again lay snog in her bed to the bed and breakfast, pulling

Starting point is 00:42:50 the crisp sheets and light bed spread up to her chin. She inhaled deeply, taking in the salty smell of the coastal air that drifted through the window. Her thoughts wandered by to the amazing scenes of the day, and she saw a picture in her mind's eye of the magnificent lighthouse at Portland Head. This would be a trip she would always remember. She thought of long fellows famous poem, particularly the first stanza, which said, the rocky ledge runs far into the sea. And on its outer point, some miles away, the lighthouse lifts its massive masonry, a pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. It was such powerful imagery, truly speaking to the enduring legacy of all the lighthouses,

Starting point is 00:44:30 The growing legacy of all the lighthouses, large and small, that it offered safe harbor for countless ships over the centuries. But of course, the lighthouses hadn't thrived all on their own. She was learning that the history of their keepers had been just as important. A great debt was owed to those people who tended the lenses, and occasionally rescued hapless mariners in a storm. Emma smiled to herself, turning over and snuggling deeper into her comforting bedspread. comforting bedspread. As she did, long fellows' words continued to run through her thoughts. And as the evening darkens, low, how bright, through the deep purple of the twilight air, beams forth a sudden radiance of its light, with strange, unearthly, splendor in the glare. A light fog had descended outside. She knew it because she was dimly aware of a fog-orn in a distance. It called plaintively through the deepening night outside.

Starting point is 00:46:31 A few seconds later, another men and golly foghorn sounded, appearing almost to send its comforting reply. And so the two beacons worked in tandem, echoing their greetings out into the mist, as Emma drifted off on the calming waves of sleep. you you you ... you I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room.

Starting point is 00:49:18 I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. I'm going to go to the next room. you you you ... I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing.

Starting point is 00:51:07 I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing.

Starting point is 00:51:52 I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. I'm going to do a little bit of the same thing. you you you you

Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Dreams of the Portland Head Light

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