Chap­ter IV begins as the con­struc­tion team resumes their labor, unload­ing the immense cast iron rails meant for the stair­case. Each rail, shaped unique­ly and weigh­ing sev­er­al hun­dred pounds, demand­ed pre­cise coor­di­na­tion and prop­er lift­ing gear. The team used a tri­pod struc­ture made of spars to hoist these pieces from the ship’s hold onto sol­id rock, where they were sort­ed and aligned metic­u­lous­ly. The process required more time and atten­tion than expect­ed, as every rail had to be matched to its spe­cif­ic loca­tion by both shape and num­ber. These tech­ni­cal demands test­ed the skill and patience of the men, reveal­ing the com­plex­i­ty of assem­bling pre­fab­ri­cat­ed iron­work in such a remote and pre­car­i­ous set­ting. Noth­ing could be left to chance; mis­takes meant delays, and delays in this sea­son came with harsh­er weath­er. Every task depend­ed not only on man­pow­er but also on con­stant adap­ta­tion to wind, tide, and ter­rain.

Just days lat­er, on Decem­ber 5, the rock was struck by a storm fierce enough to threat­en the entire project. Although the bea­con-house endured with its foun­da­tion intact, its low­er sec­tions flood­ed with sea spray and debris. Sev­er­al tem­po­rary parts—wooden bal­cony rails, storm shut­ters, and one major beam—were torn away by the vio­lent waves. This inci­dent under­lined the impor­tance of installing the per­ma­nent iron­work with­out delay, as the wood­en ele­ments could not with­stand repeat­ed expo­sure to such force. The tem­po­rary struc­tures, though nev­er intend­ed to last, were still relied upon, and their loss fur­ther empha­sized how exposed the crew remained. With the Atlantic bear­ing down hard­er each week, urgency replaced rou­tine in the crew’s sched­ule. Each fail­ure of wood con­firmed the sound­ness of the engineer’s deci­sion to use iron—durable, resilient, and suit­ed to defy the ocean’s pow­er.

Cap­tain Wil­son, already bat­tling ill­ness, had deliv­ered nec­es­sary sup­plies before return­ing to the main­land to recov­er. His absence placed more respon­si­bil­i­ty on Mr. John Reid and the remain­ing men, who now had to over­see both the day-to-day work and the safe­ty of the bea­con itself. The final touch­es to the lighthouse’s struc­ture, par­tic­u­lar­ly in the light room and on the bal­cony, took on even greater impor­tance. The iron rail­ings, once viewed as mere archi­tec­tur­al detail, now stood as a bar­ri­er between life and the sea. Each bolt and brack­et fas­tened by the crew added to their col­lec­tive con­fi­dence that this struc­ture would with­stand what was yet to come. In these moments, the light­house became more than just a build­ing; it was their shel­ter, their mis­sion, and their mea­sure of courage.

As win­ter deep­ened, the crew pressed on through cold winds and short days, guid­ed by both neces­si­ty and pride. Tasks were not com­plet­ed with haste but with a delib­er­ate­ness shaped by expe­ri­ence and respect for the sea. Their work, though phys­i­cal­ly exhaust­ing, was per­formed with care, know­ing that lives would one day depend on every joint, bolt, and lens. The trans­for­ma­tion of the tow­er from exposed scaf­fold­ing to a for­ti­fied land­mark was not only mechan­i­cal but sym­bol­ic. It marked a vic­to­ry over delay, dis­or­der, and dan­ger, carved into stone and iron against a back­drop of relent­less waves. And behind each suc­cess stood a net­work of dis­ci­pline, fore­thought, and shared resolve among men who had come to under­stand each oth­er as deeply as they under­stood their craft.

Beyond the tech­ni­cal tri­umphs, the con­struc­tion project embod­ied a sto­ry of human grit. Each com­plet­ed sec­tion of the light­house bore silent wit­ness to storms weath­ered and prob­lems solved. The men who labored there were not only builders of stone and met­al but also pro­tec­tors of future mariners. Their efforts cre­at­ed a light that would shine not just for nav­i­ga­tion, but as a sig­nal of endurance to all who saw it. In every clank of ham­mer and hiss of rope, there lived a mes­sage that even in the harsh­est cor­ners of the world, struc­ture and pur­pose could rise. Chap­ter IV cap­tures this truth with qui­et clarity—of work forged under pres­sure, of mate­ri­als test­ed by nature, and of peo­ple bound togeth­er by a com­mon pur­pose that out­shines even the bright­est beam atop the sea.