This is the third part of one of the many short stories that can be found in one of the many books from the collection of lost stories from travelers across the world. This one was rescued from the belongings of an Italian artist (Antonio dal Masetto) who migrated to the Americas in the 30s decade.
When they made it to the shore, the sky was already fired up by constant lighting and the boat shook uncontrollably, due to the heavy wind and the size of the waves. There was a post from which a tiny lamp hung, swinging back and forth. Beyond that, one could only see darkness and the feeling was that of an endless cave. The sailor asked her dad “do you still want to go?” He had not changed his mind, although an unmistakable sense of fear had begun to invade him.
They got down and sat on the boat. They left the island and within a matter of minutes, the storm was unleashed upon them. The lake turned into a hell of heavy rain, wind, gigantic waves. The little lamp hanging from the post disappeared and the boat jumped up and down and the whole time felt like it was about to tip over.
The sailor tried to steer it but it was impossible to do anything. It felt as if the boat had a life of its own and decided where it would go. The darkness was so black that no one could see anything, except for when lightning struck in the middle of the lake. Her dad knew then that he and the sailor would die that night. He did not feel fear as much as he felt sadness over not ever seeing his kids again. Until, miraculously, they saw a light. It was the lighthouse; they were near the coast.