Student Bloggers

On New Year’s Day in 1859, high above thrashing waves on a rocky coastline, a light shone brightly, cutting the dark night with its luminous glow. The source of the light was the Pencarrow Lighthouse, New Zealand’s first permanent lighthouse. It took nearly two decades to build and make it operative, and many lives were lost in the process of the difficult task. Managing the beacon was even more of a challenge, and the keeper lived in isolation, alone in what is now the East Harbour Regional Park.

Of course, I didn’t know any of that, except for the isolation part. To get to the lighthouse, some friends and I took a ferry across the harbor to Days Island, biked eight miles along the coastline to the lower lighthouse and then hiked 30 minutes to the upper lighthouse and another 20 to the lookout. The day we set out on our adventure, the sky was overcast and gloomy, and by the end of our 30-minute ferry ride, we were all shivering from the wind on the top deck of The Dominion Post.

By the time we made it to the lighthouse (after stopped to gawk at mountain goats, of course), the weather still threatened rain, but we were warm and in awe of the immense views laid before us. Atop the mountain, it was easy to see why the lighthouse keepers had settled for seclusion; nothing in the world can compare to the clarity and peacefulness that stems from looking down on the world below, utterly content in every way.

Looking out from the cliffs and listening to the waves crash below, I couldn’t help think how fitting it was that the day we chose to visit the lighthouse- sulky and dreary- was the very type of day lighthouses were needed most.

From a historical perspective, lighthouses provided very practical uses; they were used to help guide sailors to safety, to prevent ships from going astray and falling into harm’s way. While most lighthouses are now decommissioned and have become tourist attractions, they still provide a symbolic purpose for those who seek them out; they’re still relevant. They represent moving forward, they represent the process of navigating through the world. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to Pencarrow so much in the first place; after all, you won’t find it on any ‘Wellington top things to do’ list, but the place has been the threshold of my time in New Zealand so far.

Whether or not the destination tops any lists, there’s still a certain fascination that accompanies the idea that someone had to be the keeper for that lighthouse. Someone had to trade civilization for isolation in order to keep others safe.

Now, I think it’s my turn. And your turn, too.

Maybe it’s time we each become the keeper of our own light so, if nothing else, we can keep moving forward, keep navigating the sea of life to embark on new adventures and live out our stories.

So I ask you this, what are you navigating toward? And are you keeping the light burning, the light that is vital to help get you there?

As for me, I’m navigating toward my truest self. That’s the thing about travel and being in a place entirely foreign; inauthenticity cannot survive. It suffocates, gasping for breath until you’re left with only the fundamental pieces of your sincerest self.

If you ask me, that’s the best part; the part when you gain everything life has to offer by becoming more alive and less afraid.