The Trinity Brethren at last took the matter up, but their investigations caused them to doubt the possibility of building a lighthouse on such a forbidding spot. They did the next best thing. They drove a thick oak joist into the rock, and attached a coloured sphere to its upper extremity. This constituted a valuable landmark by day, but was useless at night. But its life was brief. The first storm which swept the reef after the erection of the beacon tore it up by the roots. It was replaced by a heavy mast of wrought-iron, which suffered a similar fate, as did also a third iron pole 9 inches in diameter. At last a low conical stump was built upon the ridge, with the staff and sphere projecting from its centre. This defied wind and wave successfully for many years. Its permanency impressed the builders of the Bishop Rock light, who came to the conclusion that, as the small conical tower held hard and fast, a masonry tower could be given just as firm a hold. When the engineer approached the reef to make his surveys, he found the water boiling and bubbling madly, and it was some time before he could get a foothold. He completed his examination, and then found, to his dismay, that the boat could not approach to take him off. He could not stay where he was, as the tide, which was rising, would engulf the reef within a short time, so he resorted to a bold expedient. He had taken the precaution to bring a life-line with him, so that he was in touch with the boat. He looped this round his waist securely, and then, telling the men to pull as hard as they could, he plunged into the water. In this manner he was dragged through the furious surf and pulled into the boat, thoroughly drenched, but otherwise none the worse for his adventure. [Illustration: _Photo, Paul, Penzance._ THE GODREVY LIGHT, SCILLY ISLANDS. It marks a forbidding clump of rocks, landing on which is always exciting.] The work was begun in 1862, when the masons were despatched to the rock to prepare the face for the reception of the bottom masonry blocks. The tedious and exceptionally dangerous character of the work was emphasized very forcibly upon those engaged in the task. It was seldom that the water was sufficiently placid to enable a landing to be made. Then, as the working spell was very brief, being restricted to low-tide, the men could pause only for a few minutes at a time, and even during these were menaced by the breakers. During the first working season only eighty-three hours of labour were possible--a fact which conveys a graphic idea of the exposed character of the site, its difficulty of access, and the short time available for work between the tides.