On Saturday evening dozens of Vineyarders gathered at the Martha’s Vineyard Museum to witness a rare event that in the 19th century and early 20th century was a nightly occurrence.
Called Keeping the Light, the event was a celebration, and lighting, of the 170-year-old Fresnel lens that operated in the Gay Head lighthouse for almost 100 years, beginning in 1856. The lens was retired in 1952 and has been in the care of the museum ever since.
“That light has always represented safety. It has its own lore and legends and connections with people,” said Laurel Redington, director of programming and audience engagement at the museum.
Kayla Manning, the great-granddaughter of Helen Manning, was the first to speak. She described what the lighthouse meant to her great-grandmother, a former assistant lighthouse keeper and member of the The Wampanoag Tribe of Gay Head (Aquinnah).
Helen was the niece of Charles W. Vanderhoop Sr, the lighthouse’s first Wampanoag keeper, and grew up on the property next to the lighthouse, later inheriting the land. Helen was also a committed teacher, said Ms. Manning, educating young students at the Gay Head and Oak Bluffs schools, as well as the wider community.
“[Helen] shared the deeper story of the land, the water and the enduring connection of the Wampanoag people back to that place,” said Ms. Manning. “She was deeply committed to preserving and sharing the history of the Aquinnah community and the Wampanoag Nation.”
A technological marvel and a work of art in its own right, the lens was commissioned in 1854 and installed two years later. It operated at the Gay Head lighthouse until it was retired and replaced with an electric beacon. Able to project beams from a single oil lamp up to 21 miles — about as much as any modern lighthouse beacon — the Fresnel lens was an essential mechanism for warning ships of the treacherous underwater rocks of Devil’s bridge.
Operating the lens required constant attention. Every four hours, keepers would wind the gears to raise the 150-pound weight inside the geared mechanism, its slow drop providing the mechanical energy to turn the light. Keepers would also have to trim candle wicks, dust the lenses and lubricate the wheels on which the light turned.
Its well-known pattern, three white flashes and one red, dazzled Aquinnah for years before the town had electricity.
“This was unprecedented brilliance out of night for people who knew only of candlelight. Fireworks and lightning were both seldom and intermittent,” said Richard Skidmore, who had been the lighthouse keeper for 31 years, retiring from his post in 2021. “This was a continuous display…an intense, glittering, swirling light show.”
In 1952 the Fresnel lens was transferred to the museum, then the Dukes Country Historical Society in Edgartown, and has remained under its care ever since. It was restored in 2018 before moving to the museum’s current home in Vineyard Haven.
One woman shared her story of cleaning the lens at the historical society, finishing before the sun came up because of how hot the lens could get when refracting the sun’s light — so hot it would set paper towels on fire.
Kate Taylor performed Beams of the Queen, an original song written by her nephew Isaac Taylor, who grew up next door the lighthouse and is now its assistant keeper.
Then, what was once called the “fire on the beach” was turned on once more.
Against the faint ticking of gears in the background, tiny rainbows passed through the hundreds of curved prisms, and the white and red beams turned on the ceiling like a carousel.
At first nobody spoke. Then, when the lens had reached a quarter turn, the audience applauded.
Collections manager Katie Van Riper — who has been turning the lens annually since 2022 — said the lens only turns for as long as she can physically crank the enormous mechanism. She recalled turning it in December for a PBS documentary, and how a large group of her colleagues gathered to watch the demonstration. That’s when the idea for Saturday’s event was born.
As attendees trickled out, they marveled at the experience.
“That was fantastic,” said Robert Myhill.
Sarah Ream, Mr. Myhill’s wife, agreed.
“I love the fact that you get 100 adults holding their breath for 15 seconds while a light turns a quarter turn, in the dark,” she said. “It is quintessential Vineyard, community, connection and experience….There’s something quite nice about having a little bit of light in dark times.”
This article appears in March 13, 2026.
I read this this morning and have been thinking about it *all* day long. The tech. The way the light seeped into so many people’s hearts. Thank you for this lovely article. It’s given me awe and wonder.
Great article, wonderful exhibit. Perhaps a video clip next time?
When I was 10 living in Chilmark, my mother took me to visit the Gay Head Lighthouse. The lighthouse keeper told us he had to clean the lenses every day and what a chore! That was 1937 and yes I am 99!
As a little kid, I was afraid of the Fresnel lens. I always sped up or sometimes ran past the Historical Society on Main Street in Edgartown. The lens glowed in the moonlight. I thought it was a UFO. Now I remember how it captured the light. What a brilliant invention! It was a marvelous work that’s for sure. Super natural? No– only in my overactive young imagination.