Good show, considering that Andy lives on Bishop Rock lighthouse, seven miles off the Isles of Scilly, a favorite vacation spot for Britons. He climbs to the helipad, 176 feet above the pounding seas, and whacks away with his Nos. 1 and 2 woods and a wedge. His golf ball is a captive, attached to the tee by a long elastic cord (a device marketed in Great Britain as a Biffit).
Before the summer is over Andy intends to tackle the local nine-hole course. By then he vows to be skillful enough that he "won't put the ball down and miss it in front of all the tourists."
Bluer was raised near Manchester and worked as an engineer before he and his wife, Joan, decided they wanted to live by the sea. But, he says, "Where there were houses to live in, there was no work, and where there was work, there were no houses." A lighthouse was the obvious solution, and Bluer has tended more than a dozen of them since 1956. Bishop Rock is the cushiest; it has carpets, color TV and a freezer. What it doesn't have is quarters for Joan. She and their younger son live on the island of St. Mary's while Andy works 28 days at a stretch, then takes equal time off at home (an assistant replaces him). "It's like having six honeymoons a year," Andy says. "And my wife always knows where I am."
While on duty, his only chores are to take meteorological readings and polish the 1,250,000-candlepower light, which can be seen for 29 miles. (Over the years some 500 ships have gone aground on the nearby rocks.) "It's one of those jobs that quiets you down," says Bluer. "Life is next door to being stopped."
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
