I’m on a quest to see every lighthouse in California. These 14 are absolutely spectacular
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“From dense fogs and other circumstances, lenticular lights of the greatest size and effective lights should be established on the coast, and with elevated towers, so as to be seen at great distances.”
So wrote future California Sen. William McKendree Gwin in a letter to the U.S. Department of the Treasury in March 1850, pleading for the federal government to build lighthouses along the rugged West Coast.
California would not become a state for another six months. But the discovery of gold at Sutter’s Mill two years earlier had brought a cavalcade of ships to its unforgiving shores that were lined with rocky headlands and often blanketed in dense fog. Something needed to light the way, Gwin argued.
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Since then, more than 40 lighthouses have graced the California coast. I am on a quest to see them all.
I grew up in rural Oklahoma, a child of the prairie who dreamed of the sea. A true 1990s kid, I was obsessed with “The Baby-Sitters Club” book “Dawn and the Surfer Ghost,” the neon dolphin art of Lisa Frank and the movie “Titanic.” I wore a plastic Heart of the Ocean necklace and vowed to become a marine biologist. (That didn’t happen, but I do geek out when I get to write sea stories as a journalist.)
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In first grade, I saw my first lighthouse: The Yaquina Bay Lighthouse in Newport, Ore., where some of my family lived. I so vividly remember being struck by its briny lore.
I now have two young children, and I have taken them to lighthouses up and down the West Coast. We look for Fresnel lenses — the intricately layered glass prisms that sent magnified light miles across the waves. And we get stamps at each stop in a U.S. Lighthouse Society Passport.
This south-to-north list includes some of my favorite California lighthouse trips, from popular tourist attractions to the obscure remnants of old navigational aids.
Tanya Smart, the board president of the nonprofit Point Cabrillo Lightkeepers Assn. who greets awestruck visitors from all over the world, told me it’s hard not to be romantic about the beacons’ beautiful paradox: “Lighthouses represent safety — although, in actuality, lighthouses are marking hazards.”
In this world, hazards abound, yes. But adventure does too. May we all find the light.
Point Fermin Lighthouse
The ornate, Victorian-style lighthouse was built in 1874 on what was then a barren cliff. It is now surrounded by lush gardens and a sprawling grassy park with playground equipment, walking trails and picnic tables.
The first keepers were sisters Mary and Ella Smith, whose father had been a lighthouse keeper in Washington and taught them the physically-demanding trade, which required keeping the flame lighted all night and winding heavy weights that rotated the lens.
In 1917, keeper William Austin and his wife moved in. They had eight children. My favorite part of the tour is an upstairs bedroom from which two teenage daughters, Thelma and Juanita, slipped out a window, scurried across the roof and sneaked away to go dancing.
After their parents died in 1925, Thelma, seeking her father’s job, wrote to the U.S. Lighthouse Service: “Why, the sea and this lighthouse seem to me like a holy shrine. … When you have been raised in the lighthouse atmosphere, as I have been, it is mighty difficult to change your mode of living and accept any other line of endeavor which does not offer romance and adventure.” Thelma, with Juanita’s help, was the last keeper before the city of Los Angeles took over the then-electrified light in 1927.
Point Vicente Lighthouse
Alas, the tower is deteriorating, has lead paint and asbestos inside, and has been closed to the public for several years. (A newly formed nonprofit, Friends of the Point Vicente Lighthouse, is raising money for its restoration.)
I have not yet been able to make one of the once-a-month Saturday tours of its grounds, but the kid-friendly Point Vicente Interpretive Center in the adjacent park makes up for it.
The lighthouse’s original 5-foot-tall, third-order Fresnel lens is on display in the Interpretive Center, which is free and open daily. Kids can pick up scavenger-hunt papers at the front desk.
Point Sur Light Station
Though the rock and lighthouse are managed by Point Sur State Historic Park, they are surrounded by private ranchland blocked by a locked gate. The only way to visit is to take the $20 volunteer-led walking tour, offered Saturdays, Sundays and Wednesdays. Pull up to the gate on the west side of Highway 1, just over five miles south of the Bixby Bridge, and wait for a docent to escort you in.
Fair warning: The tour is three hours long. Take advantage of the portable toilets next to the parking area before you start the steep, windy ascent.
The boxy, sandstone lighthouse is topped by a red-roofed lamp room that once held an enormous first-order Fresnel lens that was made in France, shipped in boxes around the treacherous Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America, and first illuminated at Point Sur in 1889. Volunteers who have raised millions to restore the lighthouse are working to bring back the lens, which was removed decades ago and now sits in storage.
Visitors can climb into the empty lamp room and onto the windy gallery deck. I was particularly fond of the fog signal room, which still smells of the kerosene that once fueled the horn. There’s a nice gift shop at the end of the tour.
Mark Abbott Memorial Lighthouse
The lighthouse is surrounded by walking and biking trails and plentiful benches perfect for watching surfers catch waves below. The free museum has a terrific collection of historic surfboards. A board chomped by a great white shark in 1987 is displayed alongside two shark teeth pulled from its foam.
The museum is closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Its hours vary depending on the season, so call ahead or check the city’s website.
The lighthouse was built in 1967 in honor of 18-year-old Mark Abbott, who had died in a surfing accident two years prior. His grieving parents funded construction and donated the working navigational aid to the city of Santa Cruz. Abbott’s ashes are buried beneath the lighthouse, and a small bronze plaque beside the front door says the building is “dedicated to all youth whose ideals are the beacons to the future.”
You can get a U.S. Lighthouse Society passport stamp in the museum. As a bonus, stamp collectors also can visit the simple but elegant white cylindrical Walton Lighthouse at the entrance to the Santa Cruz Harbor.
Alcatraz Island Lighthouse
Tickets from official ferry service provider Alcatraz City Cruises, whose boats take off from Pier 33, are required to visit the island, which is operated by the National Park Service. Tours sell out quickly, so plan ahead. For lighthouse viewing, I recommend the night tour. If you‘re collecting stamps, you can get one at the cash register in the cellhouse gift shop, which stays open late.
The 95-foot-tall lighthouse — the tallest structure on the island — is a slender, unadorned gray tower with moss growing on its rectangular base. Admittedly, it’s not very pretty in daylight. But the long beam of its light over a darkened San Francisco Bay is hauntingly beautiful.
During your return ferry ride, find a spot near the back of the boat. Most other passengers likely will be facing forward, watching the twinkling city lights draw nearer. But keep your eyes on Alcatraz to see the rotating white beam, which is visible for about 20 nautical miles.
Fun fact: Alcatraz Island was the site of the West Coast’s first operational lighthouse. The Fresnel light in the original Cape Cod-style building was illuminated in June 1854 as the federal government rushed to build navigational aids in the burgeoning new state of California after the 1848 discovery of gold. The lighthouse was damaged in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and replaced in 1909 with the still-standing reinforced concrete tower.
Angel Island (where you'll see 3 lighthouses in 1 thrilling hike)
Since the late 1800s, the island — a former military installation, quarantine station and immigrant processing and detention site — has had three navigational aids. There was a fog bell station with its own keeper on Point Knox, a promontory on the island’s southwest corner; and small lighthouses on Point Stuart (on the western end) and Point Blunt (on the east side).
After your ferry ride from Tiburon or San Francisco, walk past the park visitor center and up the hill to the paved Perimeter Road. Head to the red, abandoned Camp Reynolds hospital and, to the right of it, pick up the Point Stuart Loop, a narrow earthen path that will lead you to a point on the island’s edge. (Watch out for poison oak!) The unmarked Point Stuart Lighthouse, which clings precariously to the edge of the island below the trail, is off-limits and blocked off by a chain-link fence. But if you’re lucky, you can catch a glimpse of its red roof through the fence.
Get back on Perimeter Road and go south to the well-marked concrete remains of the military’s Battery Ledyard. Take a short but steep path down to those ruins and, from there, look at the rocky point below (which is not accessible by foot). Somewhat embarrassingly, I shouted, “Yeah!” when I saw what was still down at the ocean’s edge: the 3,000-pound bronze fog bell installed in 1886.
In July 1906, the wind-up clockwork mechanism that struck that bell malfunctioned as a dense fog rolled in, just three months after the San Francisco earthquake that killed 3,000 people and destroyed much of the city. Ships had been pouring in as the city rebuilt. The female lighthouse keeper, Juliet Fish Nichols, alone in the fog bell station, struck the bell by hand for a grueling 20 hours and 35 minutes at the same rate as the automated mechanism — twice every 15 seconds — until the weather cleared.
After marveling at the bell, take Perimeter Road east toward Point Blunt. From the road, you can plainly see the automated green flash of the Point Blunt Lighthouse, which is operated by the U.S. Coast Guard and off limits to the public.
The loop took me three hours, with stops. Cellphone service is surprisingly great, and I used Google Maps to help find the lighthouses. The welcome center was closed when I visited, but I got three well-earned stamps for my U.S. Lighthouse Society passport from the bike rental stand.
Point Reyes Lighthouse
From the main visitors’ parking lot on Sir Francis Drake Boulevard, it’s a hilly half-mile walk to the lighthouse visitor center. To reach the light: Descend!
“CAUTION: The 313 stairs are wicked hard,” reads the yellow warning sign at the top of the steep staircase down to the lighthouse. There are several landings with benches to take a breather. (The stairs are closed when the wind is 40 mph or faster.)
The lighthouse, built in 1870, is a simple cast-iron tower with its original first-order Fresnel lens. If a National Park Service ranger is present, you can go inside for an up-close look. You will hear the fog horn blast every 30 seconds.
Back at the top of the steps, I met Sara Hoover and Melinda Ruzich as they laughed and caught their breath. The friends had left their homes in 105-degree Sacramento to visit the peninsula, where it was 58 degrees.
“It’s so beautiful here, and I think the fog made it much better,” said Hoover, 50.
Along the path from the parking lot, pause to read the trail signs detailing the dangers of sailing near Point Reyes Peninsula, which is surrounded by cold, churning waters, treacherous crags and that impenetrable fog. One sign, quoting an 1887 newspaper article, reads: “Punta de los Reyes — Point of the Kings — Spanish navigators named it … and they did well to fear it. God help the hapless mariner who drifts upon it.” Starting with the San Agustin, a three-masted Spanish galleon lost in Drake’s Bay in 1595, more than 50 vessels are known to have wrecked around the point.
Point Arena Lighthouse
The tower — built to replace the original 1870 beacon that cracked during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake — stands on a narrow, eroding strip of land jutting out into the Pacific. Standing 115 feet, it is tied with Pigeon Point Lighthouse in Pescadero as the tallest lighthouses on the West Coast.
There is a $5 entry fee for the lighthouse grounds, which include a well-stocked gift shop inside the 1896 fog signal building, which also houses the lighthouse’s original first-order Fresnel lens — a 4,700-pound masterpiece made of 258 hand-ground glass prisms. The grounds are great for whale watching.
It’s an extra $5 to tour the lighthouse tower and climb the staircase. The empty lens room at the top offers spectacular views of the sea and jagged cliffs. If it’s not too windy, you can walk around the outer deck.
The Point Arena Lighthouse is in a remote part of coastal Mendocino County where cellphone service is hit or miss. If you use your cellphone map for navigation, download it for offline use. Better yet, bring a paper map.
Point Cabrillo Light Station

“You go up and see that lens — she grows on you. It’s a beautiful piece of work,” said Tanya Smart, board president of the nonprofit Point Cabrillo Lightkeepers Assn., which manages the historic property.
The property, three miles north of Mendocino, is wonderfully accessible. From the main parking lot off Point Cabrillo Drive — where there’s an electric vehicle charger — you can walk half a mile to the lighthouse on a paved path or take a flat, scenic 0.75-mile hike along a narrow dirt trail that winds through tall grass and along the seaside cliffs. Those who cannot make the walk can be dropped off by vehicle right in front of the lighthouse.
The meticulously restored third-order Fresnel lens, which flashes every 10 seconds, is the crown jewel of the place. Plan to spend some time watching it from outside. The lens is automated now but was first illuminated in 1909 by an oil lamp and powered by a clockwork mechanism that had to be wound by hand about every 90 minutes.
The main-floor museum displays the 1,100-pound iron cannon from the Frolic, a ship that ran aground near Point Cabrillo in 1850. During a winter storm in January 2023, a monster wave crashed over the bluff and burst open the back doors of the lighthouse, flooding the gift shop and museum with water, mud and rocks. The force pushed the cannon across the room and damaged several displays.
Trinidad Memorial Lighthouse

The little white lighthouse stands in a parking lot between the harbor and Trinidad State Beach. Displayed beside it is the 4,000-pound fog bell, made in 1898, that once clanged from the cliffslide bell house on nearby Trinidad Head.
The Trinidad Memorial Lighthouse, built by a local civic club in 1949, is a concrete replica of the still-functioning Trinidad Head Lighthouse that has stood on a nearby rock promontory since 1871. The replica lighthouse was built to display the real lighthouse’s fourth-order Fresnel lens, which was removed after it got an electric beacon.
For decades, the Memorial Lighthouse stood on a coastal bluff overlooking the rocky outcrops of Trinidad Bay. But the eroding bluff started cracking, and in 2018 the lighthouse was hoisted by crane and trucked to the harbor parking lot at the end of Lighthouse Road.
There are plaques inscribed with the names of hundreds of people who were lost or buried at sea affixed to the lighthouse and walls at the original blufftop location.
Trinidad Head Lighthouse and Tsurai Trail
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Lighthouse tours are the first Saturday of each month from 10 a.m. to noon. The still-functioning lighthouse is a short, no-frills white brick tower. Its lantern room has magnificent views of the sea and the little 1898 fog bell house clinging to a cliff nearby.
The trailhead for Tsurai Trail, named after an ancient Yurok tribal village, can be reached from the Trinidad State Beach parking lot near the Memorial Lighthouse, a replica of the original beacon. The trail is an easy, well-maintained 1.7-mile loop, with tunnels through the greenery and magnificent views of the beach and boats bobbing in the small harbor.
There are several spur trails and lots of benches that are ideal for whale watching when it’s not too foggy.
Battery Point Lighthouse
Battery Point Lighthouse sits atop a little hill that becomes an island at high tide. Built in 1856, it’s a white stone house with a cheery red roof, green trim and a central tower for its lamp protruding from the top.
For early lighthouse keepers, “this used to be a hardship assignment,” Harlan Watkins, who helps manage the lighthouse, told me. “The walkway was deeper, so they couldn’t get across easily. They couldn’t get to town.”
Tide permitting, there are free public tours on most days that include the keepers’ private living quarters and a climb into the light tower. The schedule changes each month, so call ahead or check the lighthouse Facebook page. The tour guides — living my dream — are volunteer keepers who live in the lighthouse for a month, maintaining the property, showing tourists around and working in the gift shop.
The lighthouse survived the tsunami of 1964, which was triggered by a magnitude 9.2 earthquake in Alaska. The keepers watched in horror from the island as waves, cresting at 21 feet, pummeled the shore, killing 11 people and washing scores of buildings off their foundations.
Pro tip: If you’re in Crescent City, drive 10 miles north on Highway 101 to the little town of Fort Dick and have a meal at Sea West, a dive bar and family-run Thai restaurant. Do yourself a favor and order the homemade coconut ice cream topped with toasted coconut shavings.