By Dawn Alexander
Special to the Islands’ Sounder
When my cell phone rang in July of 2008, I was suddenly reconnected with an island. The island was called Patos, and this phone call would change my life in a most profound way.
The call came from a friend who told me that he had found out about a new non-profit group, Keepers of the Patos Light, which had recently formed with the goal of preserving both the lighthouse and Patos Island.
When I was a small child I lived on Patos Island with my dad, who was a Coast Guard lighthouse keeper, my mother and my new baby brother.
The last time I visited Patos Island was 26 years earlier with my first husband. We were on our honeymoon and we camped on Patos while touring the San Juan Islands in a small Boston Whaler.
The old lighthouse was in shambles and needed a fresh coat of paint, with her windows all boarded up.
The tri-plex, which was newly built in the ‘50s to house the Coast Guard families, was falling apart; the obscured glass block entry was broken and vandalized with trees and blackberries encroaching on the place.
It was a sad moment for me to see it like this.
My dad, Dale Nelson, was stationed on Patos Island in the mid-1950s when he was in his early 20s. He fell in love with its remoteness and unbelievable beauty. Before I was born, my dad sent several letters to my mom, Darlene, describing Patos to her.
On Dec. 24, 1954, he answered some of mom’s questions about the island after just finding out she was pregnant with me.
He wrote, “The island is big. It takes about four hours to walk around it. It’s mostly woods that have never been touched; it is really beautiful. There is a little island right next to ours, it’s called Little Patos, and between is a cove where we tie our boat up. There are two other couples living here. They both have little kids about 18 to 20 months old. They are all very nice.”
I was born in August 1955, and moved to Patos with my mom. My dad was stationed at other lighthouses after that.
He then re-enlisted and requested to go back to Patos – and this time is what I have always called “the best childhood” in the world.
Life on Patos Island through the eyes of a child was magical. I would explore and find all kinds of treasures, starfish, hermit crabs, mussels and driftwood in funny shapes.
We had our dog Scamp who was always with me and I had Crowey, a black crow that would always show up for his daily bread. I would call him and there he would be. I also had a pet deer. It was a fawn; my dad said it swam across the channel to visit us on Patos.
Occasionally, the 55-foot Coast Guard Cutter would arrive to take us to the mainland, to visit our relatives.
Every time I came aboard the Coast Guard cutter one of the men would always lead me down to the galley and give me an ice cream bar.
One time as I bit into the ice cream I lost my tooth. The Coast Guard men reached into their pockets and pulled out their change and gave it to me, mentioning something about the Tooth Fairy.
The Coast Guard men were always doing something nice for me. On Patos they built me a swing from a huge Madrona tree, a teeter-tooter, and a sandbox, which I thought was silly – who needs a sandbox on an island?
I loved my swing and would stand on the wooden slat to see how high I could go. I had the most incredible view in the world.
An unexpected call
Now, so many years later, from an unexpected phone call, I realized there was an organization taking care of this beautiful island.
I immediately contacted KOPL’s president, Linda Hudson.
She told me that not only had Keepers of the Patos Light formed with the goal of restoring the lighthouse and protecting the island, there was to be a Birthday Bash in August to celebrate the lighthouse’s 100th anniversary and to show off the complete renovation that had taken place earlier in the summer.
As the charter boat approached Patos on Aug. 24, for the lighthouse party, I was filled with mixed emotions. I was sad because my parents were not here to share this with my husband and me, and excited for what the future would bring for this tiny island that I knew so long ago.
The lighthouse looked so lonely on the tip of Alden Point; there were no officer’s quarters, no water tower nor flagpole … nothing except the beautiful lighthouse.
The boat landed on the beach in Active Cove and we were greeted by Nick Teague, of the BLM. He had a ton of questions for me.
As we were walking down the long sidewalk to the lighthouse, I mentioned that as a girl I would fly on my roller skates up and down this path. My mom had planted Sweet Alyssum along the edge and to this day when I smell that flower I am immediately taken back to Patos.
Nick told me that the tiny white flower still blooms there every spring, and that we certainly need to revisit at that time.
The lighthouse looked as good as she did in the 1950s, and I was honored to speak to everyone that had an interest and helped restore the lighthouse. I spoke briefly about my childhood here, but mostly I spoke about the magic of the place.
Just like my dad wrote, “You’ll have to see it for yourself to understand what I mean.”
