A Game Boy Advance–style story game. Twenty days alone on a rock in the Gulf of Maine, 1984, with a lamp to keep and a radio for company.
Free, in your browser, on a computer or a phone. It saves every morning, so you can stop whenever you like.
HARROW ROCK LIGHT · GULF OF MAINE · 1984
Gordon Hale has kept Harrow Rock Light for twenty-two years. Nine miles out, alone, with a radio.
Douse the lamp at dawn. Wind the clockwork, wipe the salt off the lens, log the weather. Then the radio: Lou on the Dorothy B. with the forecast, Bev at the depot taking your order, Danny on Little Fisher, who wants a game of checkers. And on Fridays, Marion. Whatever else happens, the light goes on at dusk.
Daylight is short, and nearly everything worth doing costs an hour of it.
1THE RADIO
Lou's forecast, Bev's catalog, Danny's next move. Take the call and an hour of light goes with it. Skip it and they'll bring it up tomorrow.
2DUSK
When the light starts to go, you have a little over a minute to climb the tower and light the lamp. It's the one time the clock runs for real.
3THE DISTRICT
Lou will mention the first. Ray will warn you about the second. After the third, you're relieved of duty.
4THE LOGBOOK
Every night the logbook writes up the day in Gordon's own words, from what you actually did. Including the parts you'd rather it didn't.
Every day has a few hours of light and a list in the logbook. What you do with the rest is up to you.

The duties, the extras and whatever broke in the night. A pane cracked in the lantern room. It'll cost glass.

Turn the dial and hold the signal. Lou has the forecast and, usually, a lobster story.

Climb the tower before the light goes and light the lamp. A dark night goes in the log, and the District reads the log.

Or sit a while first. There's a chair by the cabin that looks west.
The island is quiet. The radio isn't.
RADIO LOGHARBORCOM 88
Coast Guard, on the mainland. Gale warnings, tenders and the paperwork.
A lobsterman with the forecast, and an opinion on it.
Runs the store on Merrow. Takes your order and calls you dear.
The boy on the next island over, learning the radio. He'd like a game of checkers.
His wife, on the mainland. Friday nights, on the radiotelephone.
Between the channels, late at night, the far-off stations come in.



CH 16TUESDAY · FOG
Tuesday the fog comes in thick as wool, and Lou is out in it, turned around somewhere off the ledge. He can't see a thing, and neither can you.
Sound the horn and listen for where he hears it. Port, starboard, hold, stop. Every blast burns fuel the lamp will want tonight.
One keeper's first week, in the game's own words.
KEEPER'S LOGHARROW ROCK · MAY 1984
Clear, wind southwest, light. Gannets back on the north cliffs. Lou's lobster has grown to a Buick. A boy on Little Fisher beat me at checkers. I'll let him think so.
Fog all day. Horn on. Brought Lou in past the ledge.
Rain all day, wind southwest. Thirty-five years today. Mare played our record down the line. I stood in the watch room like a fool. Low tide tomorrow. Things wash up.
Clear, wind rising southwest. Gale warning for Saturday. Tender came. Danny drew me a lighthouse. Beam's going the wrong way.
Clear. The gale went out to sea. Mare asked me to come home when they take the light. I said maybe.
Yours will read differently. Leave the lamp dark on Wednesday and the log says so: Lamp out. On our anniversary.
Twenty days on the rock, Monday to Friday, from May to December. The light stays the same. The days get shorter.





TODAYMON MAY 14
The island is yours to walk: the cabin, the Hollow, the tide pools and the cliffs. Some of it rewards a second look.
PLAY THE PLAYTEST Twenty days. It saves every morning, so play a few at a time.READ MEPLAYTEST
So far it's been played by me and by AI agents. You'd be one of the first people to play it.
The playtest copy keeps an anonymous record of each game: how far it got, how long each day took, and how it ended. No names, no cookies, no ads. It comes to me, and I use it only to tune the game.
CONTENT NOTE · THIS GAME DEALS WITH GRIEF, ALCOHOLISM, THE DEATH OF A CHILD, AND SUICIDE.
| MOVE | Arrow keys, or the pad on a phone |
| A | Z or Space: look, talk, use, hold the signal |
| B | X or Shift: back |
| LOGBOOK | Enter, or START on a phone |
Sound on, if you can. CONTINUE on the title screen picks up at your last morning, in this browser.
LETTERSTO JACK
ABOUTTHE KEEPER OF THIS ONE
I'm Jack Casady, a marketer who can't really code.
I designed I Am the Light: the story, the island and every voice on the radio, in a design doc. Claude built it from the doc, every pixel and every sound in code. I played every build and sent back notes, mostly between nap times.
ALSOBY JACK
MONDAY, MAY 14, 1984 · DAWN