Here’s something that will make the ground feel a little less stable beneath your feet.
The first Cape May Lighthouse stood about 1,750 feet west of the present lighthouse — a site that today is completely underwater. The sea claimed it. Then a second lighthouse was built further inland. The sea claimed that one too. The second tower was operational between 1847 and 1859, whereupon it too was overcome by storms and the constant battering of waves. By the time they built the third one — the tower standing today — they moved it back considerably further from the water and built it to last. So far, so good. But standing at the base of it and looking out at the Atlantic, you understand the confidence that took.
The Third Try
The Cape May Lighthouse was built in 1859 under the supervision of U.S. Army engineer William F. Raynolds and continues operation to this day — one of the oldest continuously operating lighthouses on the Atlantic Coast. The Army Corps of Engineers began construction in 1857, at a cost of $40,000. The result was a tower that has now outlasted everything around it, including two world wars, a full automation, and decades of coastal erosion that would have swallowed its predecessors entirely.
The tower first exhibited its light on Halloween night, 1859. Fitting, given everything that’s happened in its shadow since.
The tower stands 157 feet and 6 inches tall, with 217 steps from the ground to the top — 199 of them inside the original cast iron spiral staircase. The walls were engineered for the long haul. The outside wall is cone-shaped, measuring 3 feet 10 inches thick at the bottom and tapering to 1 foot 6 inches at the top. The walls were designed to withstand winds several times above hurricane force. The original revolving Fresnel lens — manufactured by Henry Lepaute in Paris — has been removed and is now on display at the Cape May County Courthouse. A rotating aerobeacon took its place in 1946.
The process of restoration took over 15 years and was funded by nearly $2 million in grants. The lighthouse has been repainted in its original color scheme — light beige tower with a red lantern. More than 2.5 million visitors have climbed the lighthouse since it opened to the public in 1988.
The Climb and the View
Let’s be honest — the 199 steps are the whole point. 199 stairs. That’s some 15 flights of stairs and there is no elevator. Not for the squeamish. Even still, for some reason it didn’t feel as much as the 7 flights of stairs the loft apartment in we rented in Florence, Italy.
Fortunately there are landings placed every 31 steps as you start up. The steps were planned to precisely coincide with the windows located at each quarter. Each landing is located one quarter (90 degrees) from the previous and next landings. From landing to landing, you walk around the inside one and a quarter times.
They’re original cast iron, worn smooth by generations of visitors, winding upward in a tight spiral that gives you just enough window slit views along the way to keep you motivated.
At the observation deck, just below the lantern, the full 360-degree panorama opens up and earns every step.
To the north, Cape May City and Wildwood spread out along the coastline. To the south, the tip of Cape May Point and the broad mouth of Delaware Bay. And to the west, on a clear day, Delaware. Specifically: the low green profile of Cape Henlopen State Park, the concrete fire control observation towers rising from its dunes — those same WWII towers JMO featured in our Walking Dunes Trail & Observation Tower article — and the Cape Henlopen Lighthouse standing sentinel on the Delaware side of the bay.
Beyond that, the skyline of Lewes, Delaware sits quietly on the horizon, a small Victorian town that you could easily mistake for a mirage. The whole breadth of Delaware Bay is spread out below you in both directions, and the scale of it is genuinely surprising. It doesn’t look that wide on a map. It looks very wide from 157 feet up.
The lighthouse is located in Cape May Point State Park, and within immediate view are Cape May Cove and Battery 223. You’ll want to walk down to the beach and see that too.
The Town That Survived Everything
Cape May itself is worth as much of your time as you can give it. The entire city of Cape May was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1976, primarily due to its well-preserved Victorian architecture and historical significance as America’s oldest seaside resort. Its storied history includes the Underground Railroad, the whaling industry, and pirates — rumors still swirl that Captain Kidd’s treasure is buried somewhere in the area.
The Victorian streets, the gaslit ambiance, the porches and gingerbread trim — it’s the kind of place that slows you down without you deciding to slow down. Strolling down main street or the side streets that are filled with all types of shops and restaurants, one can lose complete track of time.
Add the lighthouse, the bunker, the state park trails, and the ferry crossing to Lewes on the Delaware side, and you’ve got an easy extended weekend without even trying.
Battery 223 — Right Next Door
Walk toward the ocean from the lighthouse parking area and you’ll find it — a massive concrete fortification sitting directly on the beach, half-swallowed by sand and time.
Battery 223 was completed in 1943, boasting 20 rooms, six-foot-thick reinforced concrete walls, and a blast-proof roof strong enough to withstand a direct hit from a battleship artillery shell or a dive-bombing aircraft. When it was erected, it was 900 feet from the ocean. Today, because of beach erosion, it sits right on the beach.
Battery 223 was one of three 200-series fortifications built for Fort Miles, headquartered at Cape Henlopen, Delaware. It was designed to host a 6-inch battery, and was part of a broader defensive network that extended along 200 miles of shoreline, including 20 fire control towers. Battery 223 housed two 6-inch rapid-fire guns with a maximum range of 15 miles — the only long-range battery in New Jersey that was part of the Fort Miles network.
Battery 223 never saw active service. The guns never engaged an enemy. The only shots fired were those in military exercises and live test firings. The bunker was specially covered with sod so that it merged with its surroundings. Since then the tide has changed, and now the sea often invades the bunker. Nature is making a slow and very patient argument.
The interior is sealed off today, but you can walk the full perimeter of the structure and read the interpretive signage. Piping plovers, black skimmers, and least terns — all endangered birds — have made the bunker their home, thanks to protection from the Department of Environmental Protection. From a harbor defense battery to a bird sanctuary. History moves in unexpected directions.
The Bottom Line
Cape May Lighthouse is the rare kind of historic site that delivers on every level — the history, the climb, the view, and the context that surrounds it. Two lighthouses lost to the sea before this one was built right. A WWII bunker on the beach that never fired a shot in anger. Delaware visible across the water. And 157 feet of cast iron staircase between you and one of the best views on the Jersey Shore.
Nearly 100,000 visitors a year experience a climb to the top — participating in what has become a century-old rite of a visit to the Jersey Shore.
Don’t just drive past it.
Journey Moore Often — because the best lighthouses are the ones that survived everything the first two couldn’t.