The Keeper's Quarters

Words By PAIGE GLAZER Photos by Ale Santana Photography

Climb the narrow, nautical wooden stairwell of the Lantern Room, and you can almost hear the whisper of history in every tread. The octagonal tower rises like a sentinel over the Seven Mile Bend, a private lookout with nearly a 360-degree sweep of the Great Ogeechee River.

From here, it's easy to imagine General William T. Sherman sitting atop this same bluff, scanning the horizon for the smoke and chaos of Fort McAllister's fall in 1864. He literally stood somewhere in this vicinity and watched history turn as the Civil War came to a close across the river.

Cape Hardwicke—this stretch of land—was once envisioned as the state capital of Georgia. Instead, it remains wild and water-bound. Had the dream been realized, this point of land might have been lined with government buildings, not its graceful oaks and handful of beautiful homes. Luckily, it became something quieter and perhaps more precious: a place where the river has the final word, where each tide erases and redraws the shoreline, where nature still insists on being in charge.

The lighthouse itself feels like a modern-day keeper's station, its white clapboard exterior is trimmed in black—classic, confident and entirely of-the-moment. Inside, the Keeper's Quarters (a master bedroom worthy of its name) looks due east over the river's sweep. The oyster tabby fireplace surround speaks in a language as old as the coast itself, the shells and lime a reminder of the tabby's concrete roots in earlier coastal architecture. It's the kind of detail designers rave about, authentic, tactile and hard to fake.

Above, the tower—with 360º gallery walk—turns the Lantern Room into more than a lookout. It's a crowning jewel; a perch where history and horizon meet. If you aren't into heights, you can still enjoy sunrise and sunset with unobstructed views from the front and back porches.

Even the utility structures have character. The Oil House, fashioned from a double-stacked konex container, has been repurposed into a storage hub that nods to maritime practicality. In a feat of ingenuity, another konex was converted into a swimming pool with a glass viewing panel—part industrial, part playful, entirely conversation-worthy.

The current keeper, who remains intentionally unnamed, has spent the last decade evolving this home into something extraordinary. The back porch is an entertainer's dream, anchored by a custom grill and sliding windows that open the game room to the breeze. Dock pilings frame lush landscape beds, and the tide itself seems to breathe life into the place.

And then there is the golden hour… When the sun sinks, the sky ignites, and the river mirrors it all back. From the Lantern Room, it feels like you are standing in the world's most private observatory, watching time itself fold into night. This house does more than hold a family—it keeps the past, frames the present, and points, like any good lighthouse, toward the future.