A Stormy Night in a Lighthouse

We did a crazy thing, Mary Beth thought as Mike steered the motorboat through the choppy waters of the sound. But as the old lighthouse grew closer, she smiled. No regrets.

She and Mike had “won” the lighthouse in a government auction. It had taken a decent chunk of their savings, and they would probably spend the next 20 years getting it fixed up, but this was their dream. They had heard about the auction on the local TV news and were captivated by the pictures of the 19^th-century structure. One of the things that had drawn them together as early as their first date was a desire to purchase and renovate a historic building. They had finally done it.

Mike reduced the boat's speed as they neared the edge of the reef where the lighthouse stood. When they were about 15 feet or so from where the lighthouse jutted out of the water, Mike cut the engine and jumped out of the boat to tie the boat to one of the pilings. They would have to tightly secure the boat later in preparation for the storms that were expected to pass through the area overnight, but for now, this would allow them to unload their supplies.

Since they closed on the lighthouse a few months ago, Mary Beth and Mike had visited nearly every weekend. These had just been day trips, lugging minor cleaning, construction, and painting materials over on the small boat. They would spend an entire day fixing things around the property, stopping only for a hearty picnic lunch on the rocks, and then head back to shore at the end of the day.

However, they planned to spend the night in the lighthouse tonight, so their supplies included sleeping bags, an air mattress, lanterns, and extra food. Mary Beth was especially excited about sleeping in the lighthouse tonight because of the impending stormy weather. She loved a good thunderstorm and out here on the edge of the reef they wouldn’t have to worry about a tree falling on them or losing electricity! They knew that the building was structurally sound, having undergone a renovation project by the Coast Guard a decade ago.

Their cell phones were charged, and they had powered up their portable chargers. They had a battery-powered transistor radio just in case they lost cell service, which could already be spotty out here on the water. But Mary Beth and Mike were looking forward to a cozy night unplugged from the world. Just them and the lighthouse ghost.

There were many documented accounts of strange, possibly paranormal activity surrounding the lighthouse over the last 100 years. Mike was somewhat skeptical, but Mary Beth was intrigued and had read many of the stories in the local library. According to legend, in the early 20^th century, the lighthouse keeper was swept into the sea while trying to return to the mainland. After that, there were frequent sightings of the ghost of the lost keeper and official reports of unexplained, erratic behavior of the lighthouse’s light.

Mary Beth swore that she had felt a presence inside the lighthouse building on their previous trips. There were a few occasions when Mike was outside fixing rotting window and door frames, and she was inside cleaning or painting when she sensed that someone was in the room with her. Every time, she had walked out of the building and confirmed that Mike was occupied away from the house, busy doing repairs on a workbench on the other side of the building altogether.

If there was indeed a ghost, he didn’t scare her. She found his presence comforting, like he was watching over them. She imagined that perhaps the old lighthouse keeper appreciated the fact that they were trying to fix up the building, without changing its main historical features. Mike hadn’t seen or felt anything.

When they paused in the early afternoon for their picnic lunch, Mary Beth and Mike noticed that the partly sunny morning had turned into a cloudy afternoon. The water of the sound was even rougher than this morning when they had taken the boat over to the lighthouse. Here was the storm promised by the weather forecasters.

After they ate, they set about securing the boat, bringing their work materials into the building, and verifying that the windows and shutters were secured. They left the windows on the west-facing side of the building unobstructed so they could watch the approaching storm from inside. The building was a 1.5-story structure with a large main room with a bathroom and kitchen and the small second floor had historically been used as sleeping quarters for the lighthouse keeper and assistant keeper.

Tonight, they planned to sleep on the floor of the main room. After confirming that the building was secure and setting up their lanterns and bedding, Mary Beth and Mike ventured up the stairs to the tower to watch the storm roll in. The sun hadn’t set yet, but it was already dark on the water. From their perch at the top of the tower, they could see lightning flash across the sky on the western horizon. They could hear the rumble of the distant thunder—the storm was still a few miles off. When they felt the pinging of raindrops falling on them and the wind picking up, they decided it was time to go back down the stairs to watch the storm from inside. They made sure to securely close the doors behind them as they went back downstairs.

They settled on a blanket on the floor for a dinner of meats, cheeses, bread, and wine, listening as the storm got closer and closer. Mary Beth watched the flashes of lightning in the western sky and then began counting to see how far away the storm was. Three miles, two miles, one mile…the storm was nearly on top of them!

At that moment, a bolt of lightning and a simultaneous crack of thunder made them both jump. They laughed and clinked their wine glasses.

“Here’s to our lighthouse,” Mike toasted.

“Here, here!” Mary Beth responded. “Long may she stand.”

Mike had put on his favorite classical music; predictably, as the storm outside intensified, he had queued up Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. The thunder outside and the explosion of cymbals from the orchestra made for a beautiful cacophony. They could hear the gale-force winds blowing outside, creating a humming sound around them. The weather prognosticators had said this would be a particularly strong line of storms tonight.

Despite the ferociousness of the storm outside, Mary Beth and Mike felt perfectly safe inside the old lighthouse. The building had been built to withstand hurricanes; a little summer thunderstorm was nothing. They were enjoying their little haven in the storm.

The overture concluded just as there came a lull in the noise outside. As they waited for the next round of thunder and lightning to pass through, Mary Beth thought she heard footsteps above her head. She looked at Mike, his face shadowed by the glow of the lanterns.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered.

“I hear footsteps,” Mike whispered back. “That must be your ghost. This place is sealed up tight as a drum.”

The footsteps then seemed to be headed up the stairs to the tower and then stopped.

“That’s our keeper, keeping an eye on the storm,” Mary Beth mused.

They sat through several more bands of thunder, lightning, and gale-force winds before the storms finally passed by them completely. They heard the footsteps a few more times that night but then the ghost seemed to settle down once the storms moved out. Mary Beth and Mike packed up the leftover food and wine and fell asleep sometime after midnight.

They woke in the morning to sunlight streaming into the main room of the lighthouse. Mary Beth went to the exit door and opened it wide. The sky was bright blue, without a cloud to be seen. The air was crisp and clean. She took a deep breath and stretched her arms over her head. What a beautiful day!

After verifying that everything on the outside of the lighthouse had withstood last night’s storms with no damage, Mary Beth and Mike locked up the lighthouse, loaded up the boat, and headed back to the mainland. As they moved away from the edge of the reef, Mary Beth looked at the lighthouse and smiled.

“See you soon!” she shouted in the direction of the lighthouse as Mike accelerated and the boat sped away. She couldn’t wait to return to the lighthouse and its resident ghost.