Skipism Wednesday ~ Abbie Bergess, as told by Skip

The storm had been pounding the Maine coast for two days straight when seventeen-year-old Abbie Burgess spotted the small fishing boat fighting against the massive waves. From her perch atop Matinicus Rock Light Station, she could see the vessel was in serious trouble.

It was January 1856, and Abbie's father, the lighthouse keeper, had been trapped on the mainland for over a week by the fierce winter storm. Left alone with her invalid mother and three younger sisters, Abbie had kept the light burning every night, knowing that ships depended on its beacon to navigate the treacherous waters.

As she watched the fishing boat struggle, Abbie realized the crew was trying to reach the safety of the rocky island. But the waves were too powerful, and the boat was being pushed toward the jagged rocks that had claimed so many vessels before.

Without hesitation, Abbie ran down the lighthouse stairs and grabbed her father's heavy rope. The wind nearly knocked her over as she stepped outside, but she fought her way to the edge of the rocks. The boat was close now – close enough that she could see the terrified faces of the four fishermen aboard.

"Here!" she shouted over the roar of the storm, though she knew they couldn't hear her. She tied one end of the rope around her waist and the other to the lighthouse foundation.

The boat crashed against the rocks with a sound like thunder. Abbie watched in horror as the vessel began to break apart, but then she saw something incredible – the fishermen were jumping toward the rocks, using pieces of the broken boat as makeshift shields against the sharp edges.

One by one, Abbie helped pull the soaked and shivering men to safety. The oldest, Captain Morrison, had a deep gash on his arm. Another man's leg was clearly broken. But they were alive.

For the next three days, while the storm continued to rage, Abbie nursed the injured fishermen back to health. She shared her family's meager food supplies, kept the lighthouse fire burning, and tended to her sick mother and frightened sisters. She slept only in brief snatches, always listening for the sound of ships in distress.

When the storm finally broke and her father returned, he found his daughter sitting by the lighthouse lamp, exhausted but vigilant. The rescued fishermen were gathered around the kitchen table, sharing stories with her younger sisters.

"Abbie," Captain Morrison said when he saw her father, "this daughter of yours saved our lives. But more than that – she kept that light burning for four nights straight. Every ship that passed safely in this storm owes their life to her."

Word of Abbie's courage spread quickly along the coast. Newspapers from Boston to Baltimore wrote about the teenage lighthouse keeper who had single-handedly saved four lives while keeping ships safe during one of the worst storms in years.

But Abbie didn't think of herself as a hero. Years later, when she had become the official lighthouse keeper herself, she would tell visitors, "The light must never go out. That's not heroism – that's just duty."

Abbie Burgess went on to tend lighthouses for over fifty years, saving countless lives and becoming a legend along the New England coast. She proved that heroism isn't about seeking glory – it's about doing what's right, even when no one is watching, especially when the storm is at its worst.

Today, a Coast Guard cutter bears her name, and her story is told in maritime museums across the country. But perhaps the greatest tribute to Abbie is that lighthouse keepers everywhere still live by the simple principle she embodied: the light must never go out. 

Thank you Skip ~ Great Job!