On a recent trip to Byron Bay's lighthouse, Tasmania resident Rosanna Every pondered the fate of a herd of goats that once roamed freely at the Cape.

Rosanna was curious to know — whatever happened to those goats?

That question, seemingly easily answered, turned out to be mired in controversy.

Curious North Coast investigated.

Visitors often went to the lighthouse to see the herd of goats. ( Supplied: Maurice Ryan/Time and Tide, A History of Byron Bay )

Wategoat's mysterious exit

The Cape Byron Lighthouse goats are now but a memory, but one has been recently honoured in the small, one-room museum sitting at the base of the lighthouse.

There you can find a portrait of a renegade goat named Wategoat, who in 2013 evaded capture after a rescue mission was launched by local emergency crews.

Apparently the goat was unwell and got stuck on a ledge.

However, as rescue teams scaled down the cliff and neared the goat, Wategoat jumped off the ledge with a bleat and fled, making national news.

The tale of the rascal goat herd

Living with goats at the lighthouse was not easy, and the relationship between keeper, family and herd was at times strained, as lightkeeper Bob Smallcombe recalled.

"It wasn't pleasant. You'd walk into the doorway [of the lighthouse] and the goats would have been camped in there out of the weather and you can imagine, there would be goat crap everywhere, so you'd be squishing your way through that," Mr Smallcombe said.

His wife Nell Smallcombe said the goats ate washing off the clothesline.

"If you didn't want anything good to be wrecked you left it inside, otherwise you'd come home with torn sheets or clothes disappeared," she said.

"Anything that flapped in the wind they would come and take it off the line. I did go through a lot of towels and sheets at the time, yes."

It was the 1970s so Ms Smallcombe gave tie-dyeing a try.

"But tie-dyeing them didn't make any difference to the goats. They would eat them anyway," she said.

Lighthouse keeper's curse

Ironically, it was a light-keeper who first introduced goats at the Cape Byron lighthouse.

NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service (NPWS) education officer Lee Middleton said a newspaper ad revealed that in 1903 the then-light-keeper advertised for two nanny goats in kid.

Wategoat is the goat that got away at the Cape Byron Lighthouse in Byron Bay. ( Supplied: Sean O'Shea )

Down the hill, nestled under the lighthouse precinct, is the bayside community of Wategos where resident of 44 years, Christine Vadasz, lived with daily visits from the Cape goats.

"Next door to us lived the Bells. They were lightkeepers at the lighthouse and we were always told that the goats were there to keep the vegetation down, that was their main reason," Ms Vadasz said.

But nearing the end of the lightkeeper era the goat herd got out of hand.

"The goats became a big herd, they got to 40, and when it got to 40 it actually was too much," she said.

"They needed to cull them and when the last lighthouse keeper left, the [population] just grew and grew.

"Sometimes there would be this herd of goats, 40 of them, rolling down the road here and you could hear the clip-clop, clip-clop all along the street.

"They pooped everywhere and ate everything. They were a menace, but they were also funny, they were cute, they were eccentric — like Byron is."

Bob Levett was a Landcare volunteer at the height of the goat population and said he recalled the efforts of bush regenerators to keep the goats from eating new seedlings.

"We used to battle the goats because every time we put a wire frame around a seedling, the goats would eat it to the ground within two days," Mr Levett said.

"The goats were lovely to look at but made it very difficult to do any bush regeneration."

The protest goat

Byron Bay, known for its community sentiment of dissent and protest, turned its attention to the plight of the goats.

"We're Byron Bay, you know Byron Bay, of course we were fighting, one way or the other," Ms Vadasz said.

"Half the town wanted the goats, especially the older, more long-term residents, they all wanted the goats.

"Then the other, we were the 'silvertails' from Wategos, we were meant to not want the goats."

A goat's eye view of the Cape Byron lighthouse. ( Supplied: Sean O'Shea )

The day NPWS took the goats away in 2006 was a dark day for many in the Wategos and Byron community.

Resident Paul McCarthy led the charge to keep the goats.

"Byron Bay lost out when the goats went away," he said.

"They were a great attraction. People would travel miles to see the goats, and when the kids were a bit bored we'd walk up [to] the lighthouse to see the goats.

"They belonged to the people of Byron Bay, so it was a shame to see them go."

Ms Vadasz said losing the goats felt surreal.

"We were all a bit stunned that suddenly all the goats went. It was quite a heavy thing to round up 40 goats and take them away," she said.

"But I remember for a year or so there were no goats, then suddenly one day a goat appeared again.

"So whether it was hiding in the bushes for that year — I don't think that's true.

"I think someone who was 'for' the goats, who wanted the goats, snuck that goat up there, so I think it's a protest goat."

Some believe this horn is proof that Wategoat died at the Cape Byron lighthouse. ( ABC: Elloise Farrow-Smith )

The fate of Wategoat

So what happened to that lone goat?

Local legend has it that the goat was secretly taken by authorities, but the truth is far less conspiratorial.

About a year after the goat was last seen on the headland, a single horn was found, and Wategoat was a one-horner.

Ms Middleton said she believed there was little doubt the lone horn belonged to Wategoat, and that it died of natural causes at the cape.

The horn now sits in a glass display cabinet at the Cape Byron Lighthouse museum.