Guided by the Light: How Island Life Taught Me to Embrace Change

Hello again.

When I was in grade 5 (1977 – kind of a long time ago now…), my parents decided to shake up our lives in a way that would become an unforgettable adventure. They packed us up, left their steady jobs behind, and set off into the unknown. Looking back, it’s clear that they were doing something truly brave: choosing a life far from the ordinary, trading in the predictable for a path without a map. It’s funny how life’s most valuable lessons often start with a leap into the unknown.

We left Brisbane on a plane, heading north to Mackay in Queensland, then boarded an old red and white boat called the “Saramoa”. After about 10 hours of rolling over waves, we arrived at our new home: a tiny island in the middle of the ocean, known as Pine Islet. It was there, surrounded by the vastness of the Coral Sea, that we’d live for the next two years - a life that could only be described as an adventure into the unknown.

Our Lighthouse Home on the Edge of the World

Life on Pine Islet was a blend of simplicity, hard work, and exploration. The island had only three houses, each home to a lighthouse keeper and his family. Soon after we arrived, one other family left, leaving my brother and me as the only children on the island. This wasn’t just a home - it was a world that required us to adapt, explore, and find new ways of doing things. My parents’ choice to leave stability behind set us up for an experience that most people will never know.

My dad’s duties were essential and unglamorous, yet the kind that gave meaning to each day. As a lighthouse keeper, he maintained equipment, reported weather, and kept the light burning through the night. The lighthouse itself had been guiding sailors since 1885, protecting them from the dangerous Normanby Rock nearby. With no “9-to-5” in sight, this job was a round-the-clock commitment that required my dad to take shifts, 6:00 pm to 10:00 pm, 10:00 pm to 2:00 am, and 2:00 am to 6:00 am. He would occasionally let me sit with him during his night shifts, and I would watch as he baked fresh bread in the quiet hours and stayed vigilant, always ready to dash to the light if it went out.

School, Survival, and the Spirit of Adventure

Each day brought its own rhythm. While Dad kept the light burning, my brother and I would complete our schoolwork. We had no conventional classroom - instead, our mother became our teacher, guiding us through correspondence lessons. Once a day, we joined the “School of the Air” via shortwave radio, connecting with other children from isolated areas around Queensland. It was a moment of connection that reminded us we weren’t entirely alone, even out on our tiny island. 

When the lessons were over, the island was our playground, and every day held a new discovery. We fished, explored rocky shores, and even ventured out in our small dinghy to nearby islands. There was a rugged beauty to it all - a reminder that sometimes, freedom comes from letting go of what you know and embracing a life that challenges you to grow. 

An Unpredictable Life with Unique Challenges

Living on a lighthouse island wasn’t without its challenges. Our water supply depended entirely on rain, so we used water sparingly, only filling the bathtub a few centimetres for a “bath.” On rare occasions, when storms came and tanks overflowed, we’d rush to enjoy a full bath - a little luxury we cherished. 

The wildness of the island was evident in every storm that blew through. Cyclones were a real threat; they’d wash away concrete steps and rip the roof off our generator shed, once even sending it hurtling into the lighthouse and damaging the lens. These incidents were a constant reminder that we were living in nature’s domain, and the only certainty was uncertainty. And yet, my parents held steady, embracing each new obstacle as part of the experience.

A Lesson in Embracing the Unknown

It wasn’t just my parents who embraced this lifestyle; they taught us kids to find the fun and adventure in it too. Looking back, our lives on Pine Islet were a daily lesson in stepping outside the comfortable and meeting the unknown head-on. My parents’ willingness to take this leap left a mark on me, showing that sometimes you don’t need to have all the answers. You just have to be willing to start the journey.

Returning to the Mainland, Changed

After two years, we returned to Brisbane, but I carried the lighthouse experience with me. My sense of what was “normal” had changed - no longer did a predictable life appeal to me as it once might have. Returning to city life felt strange, and even fishing back home felt like a letdown; Brisbane’s fish didn’t quite measure up to those around the island. 

In 1985, Pine Islet Lighthouse was decommissioned, dismantled, and moved to Mackay. Today, it stands as a preserved piece of history, a tribute to the generations who kept the light burning. The Pine Islet Lighthouse Preservation Society is dedicated to restoring it, ensuring visitors can experience its legacy.

Finding Freedom Beyond the Everyday

Living on Pine Islet taught me that stepping away from the “normal” path isn’t just possible - it’s often where the magic happens. My parents’ choice to take that step has inspired me to look at life differently, to find ways of breaking free from the routine, and to encourage others to do the same. If you’re reading this, and you’ve felt the itch for something more - if you’re wondering what else might be out there beyond the daily grind - take a cue from our island adventure. Embracing the unknown doesn’t mean you have to have it all figured out. Sometimes, it just takes the courage to begin. 

So, if you’re ever near Mackay, I encourage you to visit the lighthouse at the marina. Stand in its shadow, think of the keepers who stood watch over the waves, and remember that it’s never too late to steer your life in a new direction.