The tower is their home, their life, often their world, in which they seclude themselves, in voluntary isolation from the rest of the planet. The sea is their companion. Sometimes a dog, or a cat. They talk to the rain, the wind and the swell. Some drink, some drink too much, some are abstemious. Some believe in God, some no longer even trust their fellow man. Between their hands, they behold the light. A light which, even in the era of satellite navigation, still warms the heart of those who are at sea. Their job is doomed to die, and some have died because of their job. They are a bunch of men and women, each unique in his or her own way. They are Italy’s last lighthouse keepers.