The Lighthouse problem (1)

Autumn.

 

Alun and I sat on the western cliff watching the day slowly disappear, the sun descend, redden and fade. We stared for a while out at the blackness that once was sea, saying nothing, appreciating the moment.

 

And then, as if by magic, the sea was alight once again, as if the day was back. Of course, the light only lasted an instant, before revolving once more out of sight, leaving us once again shrouded in total blackness. 

The Happy Island lighthouse was built to warn passing ships to keep far away from our shores. Visitors, and particularly mainlanders, have never been welcomed here. It’s not that kind of island.

 

The brief, regular illumination of the all-around-us was somehow good for the soul, to sit there in total darkness, knowing that the darkness would pass. 

 

However, our quiet contemplation was suddenly disturbed by the sound of gunfire, coming from the lighthouse.

 

“What could it be?” I said. “We should be alone on the island.” (The lighthouse has been operated mechanically ever since it was built – there would be no sense mainlanders coming here in order to operate a lighthouse built to keep mainlanders away, and our ancestors had better things to do than sit in a lighthouse all night).

 

Alun said nothing, but I could feel the tension in his silence.  The frustration was we could see nothing in the pitch black of a new night.

 

We waited.

 

47 seconds later the light re-appeared and we saw the course of the rumpus – a pirate ship, docked by the lighthouse entrance.

 

“It’s pirates Jed,” Alun said. “They’re taking over the lighthouse.”

“Are you sure?” I said. It seemed unlikely.

 

“Yes Jed. There, you can see a gang of ruthless cutthroats heading towards the lighthouse door.”

“But why? There’s nothing in the lighthouse.”

 

“Yes there is Jed. The light. If they control the lighthouse they have the power to bring destruction and chaos to our little corner of the globe, orchestrating shipwrecks as and when they choose.”

 

“We should head to the mainland,” I said, “Let the mainland council know about the pirates.”

“We’ll never make it Jed. From the lighthouse the pirate gang can see for miles and their motorised pirate ship is faster than our rowing boat – they’ll catch us before we’ve reached Pirates Will Catch You Here Island.”

 

“We don’t know they’ve seized control of the lighthouse,” I said.   

 

But we did. For at that very second the light went out.

 

“We could phone the mainland council,” I suggested. “That way we wouldn’t have to risk exposure.”

“What, outside normal office hours? Don’t be ridiculous Jed, we’ll just get an answerphone message.”

 

“Well, we’ll just have to wait ‘til tomorrow morning. Fairly late tomorrow morning, when council officials arrive at work. Or just after lunch if the traffic on the mainland is really bad.”

“We can’t wait Jed. Every hour that light stays unlit the ships in this archipelago are in the gravest conceivable peril. The pirates have set their trap and innocent seamen will become their prey.”

 

“Well what can we do? There are just the two of us and there’s an entire pirate ship full of baddies.”

 

“What can we do? We can fight them Jed. Lay siege to the lighthouse.”

 

“But we don’t have any weapons. And we’re not dressed for it. You’re only wearing a vest.”

 

“A vest is fine, Jed. I wouldn’t want to get too hot. A vest gives you the air-flow you need when fighting a malicious gang of pirates.”

 

“So when should we attack? In the middle of the night, when the pirates are asleep?”

 

“Of course not Jed, we’ll be asleep then as well. I’m not going to let pirates mess with my bedtime. No, we’ll attack now, whilst the inspiration is upon us. Let’s lay siege to the lighthouse. Charge.”

 

And with that Alun ran furiously towards the lighthouse. I had no choice but to follow, for I could hardly leave Alun to battle an entire ship-full of pirates alone.