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| Trovaso Squero at the Watery Intersection of Rio de San Trovaso and Rio del Ognissanti |
Over time, a span of many years in fact, I gradually began to be characterized as being useful. I was useful enough to eventually be referred to as valuable, in a handy sort of way. My gradual increase in valuation may have been in proportion to my accumulation of tools. They increased from a fledgling
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| My Handyman Wine Rack Project |
I have primarily piddled on the home front making furniture, gazebos, decks, and occasional repairs, but I know those who have ventured into far trickier woodworking projects like shaping and bending wood to their will with water and clamps to fashion a watercraft. This is a far
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| A Big Ben Garvey Under Construction |
cry from making balsa wood model airplanes in my youth, where a straight pin substituted for a bar clamp. They ranged from Richard, a local accountant, who when free, seeking serenity from tedium or simply when the itch arrives, can step from his office into a yacht-sized workspace and do his own form of piddling. On a recent visit, I saw it filling with a Doug Hylan designed Big Ben Garvey, a turn of the century workboat. A Garvey, having evolved to adapt to the paper-thin waters of southern New Jersey’s coastal lagoons, is proof that boats don’t always need pointy front ends. Then there is a Navy couple, Jeff and Molly, who with a boat kit and the guidance of professional builder-instructor Geoff Kerr representing the Wooden Boat School of Brooklin, Maine, attended a six-day workshop to
assemble their 20’ Annapolis Wherry. An Annapolis Wherry is derived from the graceful 19th-century wooden wherries that plied the rivers and channels of England carrying cargo or passengers. Projects like these are not simply the result of some utilitarian urge to sculpt with epoxy and fiberglass cloth but of a creative outlet, a personal itch inclined toward hands-on creativity and precision.
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| Jeff and Molly Building Their Wherry |
While watercraft of every size, nature, and expense
may navigate Chesapeake waters and fill marinas from Miami to Antibes for that
matter, what better place to appreciate boats than in a city afloat, where
beginning in the 14th century, horses were outlawed from the streets and gondolas
became a respectable form of transportation.[1] A history like this is limited to but one
place in the world, Venezia (Venice), which in its heyday was referred to
as the “Most Serene Republic.” Here is a
one-of-a-kind jewel that is at once romantic with its Casanova airs, passionate
with mystery revealed only with the lifting of a mask yet withdrawn into a watery
remoteness. This boutique city, made up
of 120 islands, large and small, spans an intricate network of 177 meandering canals. Together, major channels and minor rivulets
called ghebo envelop a fairytale cityscape of Gothic and Islamic
influence. It lies at the crossroad where
East met West, poised on pilings shoe-laced together by 400 bridges. These watery veins and stent-like bridges
serve as thoroughfares that with the pulse of human activity have kept this
lagoon city alive for centuries.
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| The Watery Venetian Lagoon |
Coursing through these iconic water-filled arterial streets is a particular vessel that makes this once “Most Serene Republic” far more than Carnivale and reports of high water. With a distinctive shape like none other, the gondola has existed in Venice since the 11th century. It was first mentioned by name in 1094 by Doge Vitale Faliero, who started the celebration of Carnivale and the wearing of masks and costumes. Likely without the faintest idea he was benchmarking what would evolve to symbolize his city, he casually mentioned a Gondolum in a letter to the people. To prevent a revolt, he gifted the people gondola-like boats and said they would help ease their commute within the town.[1] The first illustration of a gondola did not appear until the 1400s in paintings by famed artists Vittore Carpaccio
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| Circa 1490 Carpaccio Painting Showing Venice Gondolas |
and Giovanni Bellini, the namesake of the Bellini cocktail. It was from the 15th and 16th centuries that gondolas flourished and were used to navigate Venice’s lagoons.[2]
Gondolas are made at a place called a squero, a term derived from the word squara which indicates a team of people who cooperate to build boats. The name stems from the original workmen, traditionally from Italy's mountainous Belluno region north of Venice bordering Austria. These men were experts with wood.[1] These construction areas have a characteristic layout that features a descending ramp into a canal to launch and recover gondolas. Corralling this distinctive ramp to complete a typical squero are a smattering of cabin-like storage sheds called tega, construction buildings, and living quarters. Their out-of-place alpine style is unusual to the architecture of Venice. Today’s gondolas are still made by hand in the few squeri that remain using proven methods developed over centuries by those who have mastered the art and abide by a strict reference design known as the mariregole.[2] Our first visit to Venice found us just a short walk
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| Mountain Hut & Ramp Layout of Squero di San Trovaso |
A typical gondola is about 35 feet long, five feet wide, and weighs about 1,100 pounds.[1] They have 280 interlocking parts made from eight types of wood selected for their strength and durability ― elm, mahogany, fir (now marine plywood), oak, lime, cherry, walnut, and larch.[3] Once constructed, the pieces are fitted together like the balsa model airplanes I once built. Planks of oak, walnut, and cherry give the hull strength. Lightweight birch forms the flat bottom, malleable cherry forms the seats and adds structural rigidity for the hull, larch insures water resistance, bendable walnut constitutes the frame, linden pieces provide
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| A Rèmer Shapes an Oar |
When Maria Elena and I took our first gondola
ride, we knew nothing of its secrets and many details of our gondola went
unnoticed while others stood out prominently. For instance, without knowing its name we were
familiar with the forked device on the front of a gondola. However, we had no idea of its significance
both in a historic and functional sense. This headpiece is called the feroda da
prora, which translates to hat for the bow. Prominent as it is but much smaller, it is
evocative of the dreki, the dragon heads of Viking ships. It looks like a flat inverted saxophone in shape
with protruding broad fork-like tines down its spine, but so like Venice, it ‘masks’
a significant functional purpose in addition to underlying historic meaning.
You see, a gondola is custom-made, not simply for esthetic purposes like we might choose custom wheels for a car, but also for the characteristics of its operator. To balance for the weight of the gondolier, the metal feroda da prora, technically called the ferro (iron), sits upfront on the boat’s bow weighted to help keep the gondola level in the water. More than a counterbalance, however, it possesses symbolic meaning. The ferro’s rounded top
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| The Risso (Lt) and Feroda da Prora (Rt) |
The feroda da prora helps with fore and
aft pitch, but for lateral side to side stability, the left or port side of a
gondola, toward where the gondolier stands, is nine inches wider and higher
than the starboard side. This asymmetric
feature, designed to offset the gondolier’s weighty position to one side of the
boat, helps offset tilt of the craft while underway. Curved in a bit on one side as it is, allows
the oar to thrust more along the centerline making it easier for the gondola to
move in a straight line.[1]
Today, the existence of the prora or ferro is threatened
by Venice’s rising waters. At times, a
protruding ferro makes it impossible for a gondola to pass beneath some
bridges.
We were also unaware that in the past gondolas
had two gondoliers and a small compartment midship, its most expensive
augmentation, that lent it a gracious element. Called a felze, it served for both
privacy and protection from the elements.
They have gone the wayside due to the emphasis on today’s tourist trade.
During inclement weather, tourists would
rather postpone their Gondola rides until better weather arrived, and in the
meantime, enjoy a famous Bellini in the equally celebrated Harry’s Bar. I know we would. Better to postpone a once-in-a-lifetime
experience to await a romantic cruise.
Every large Venetian home and palazzo had a boat slip similar in function to a garage. Noble families owned private gondolas and had a gondolier or two to shuttle them about regardless of foul or
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| A Felze Shown on a Gondola (1880-1890) Photographed by Paolo Salviati |
Private family gondola service has also
disappeared. In fact, the last private
gondola owner may have been socialite Peggy Guggenheim. While not a Doge, she was certainly the First
Lady of Venice from the 50s on through the 70s.
Here is an interesting comment on her life in Venice with an equally interesting
insinuation, a ‘twist’ in keeping with Venice’s self-indulgent history.
“About four o’clock, friends arrived
to be taken on Peggy’s daily gondola ride around the city. There were few
private gondolas even then; when she died, hers was the last. You’d board the
gondola at the landing stage below the palazzo, by the great bronze Marino
Marini sculpture, with the phallus you could unscrew. To signify she was not at
home, Peggy took it in the boat, and sat in the stern, surrounded by about 14
writhing Shih Tzus who followed her everywhere. She’d only stay out an hour, as
the dogs had to pee. They were all exactly the same, a rippling fur carpet on
the boat-boards. Soon they’d start tumbling about – she was constantly wary of
them jumping over the side. On landing, the phallus was reinstated on the
Marini” [6]
Beyond the physics and intrigue, there was also a political component we were clueless about. We knew that Gondolas are always painted black. What we didn’t know was that this was not always the case. In order to promote their status, wealthy, powerful Venetian families started to lavishly decorate their gondolas to outdo one another.
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| A Typical Rèmer Workshop of Today |
A few blocks away (are they called blocks?) from where we were staying, alongside another small canal was a place where one of the 280 parts of a gondola is made. Like an auto parts warehouse, this
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| The Critical Gondola Fórcole |
Something else we learned and will not forget because we followed up on it later, was our gondolier’s response when asked what he
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| Nero di Seppia ― Now Off My Bucket List |
Today, a tight-knit fraternity of about 400
licensed gondoliers remains. They wear
distinctive uniforms: black and white striped shirts, black pants, and canotier
straw hats usually with a trailing red or black ribbon. Early in the 16th century, you were born into
the profession. When a gondolier died,
the license passed to his widow. She
could then hand it down through generations of men in her family. That practice has also died. Today, to become a gondolier, an applicant
must complete ‘gondola school’, where the physics of rowing is studied, physical
tests such as swimming administered, foreign languages learned as well as
familiarization with the city’s history. After the training, a student is required to pass
a highly competitive test administered by the Ente Gondola, complete a 6–12
month internship, and then pass a final practical exam. Only when all stages are mastered is a
candidate awarded the coveted gondolier’s license.[8] There is no requirement to be handy or be able
to sing, however. Some gondoliers do
sing while majestically sculling the oar at their side. Love boat in mind, I conclude with a
revealing response so in keeping with the mystique of Venice.
The Gondola, King of Venetian Waters
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| Sunset on the Grand Canal |
Paolo
[1] The
Gondolas of Venice, by Gene Openshaw,
https://www.ricksteves.com/watch-read-listen/read/articles/the-gondolas-of-venice
[2] History
of Gondola Rides in Venice,
https://www.gondola-rides-venice.com/gondola-and-gondoliers/
[3] How
Gondolas Work, https://adventure.howstuffworks.com/gondola2.htm
[4] Venetian Gondola Boat: The Most
Typical Boat in Venice,
https://www.vivovenetia.com/the-construction-of-the-gondola-in-venice-a-centuries-old-tradition/
[6] The Day I
Shared a Gondola with Peggy Guggenheim, https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/dec/06/gondola-peggy-guggenheim-nicky-haslam-brush-with-greatness
[7} Ancient Boats
in North-West Europe: The Archaeology of Water Transport to AD 1500. Sean Mcgrail, (11 June 2014).
[8] What Does
It Take to Be a Venetian Gondolier? https://hardcoreitalians.blog/2020/06/22/what-does-it-take-to-be-a-venetian-gondolier/
