A moment to tell you a sweet story.
My friends, Felice & Oliviera, have been fellow hotel guests and occasional passengers on the hotel's wooden cruiser, Il San Antonio II, for the past few years. Over the years ,we have developed the enviable ritual of setting out from the mossy dock at 10:30 almost every morning and ferrying out to a pristine part of the coastline. The skipper drops the anchor a few hundred feet from shore, and the guests, plop lazily one by one, into the cobalt water. The more daring of us don flippers and a mask & snorkel and follow schools of Guaracini back to the shoals and rocks that host varied sea life such as sponges, "sea-tomatoes" and sea urchins, among other creatures.
What I didn't know was that Oliviera did not know how to swim & was actually quite afraid of the water. In fact, her husband had nestled a pool in their backyard over 30 years ago, which she had never gotten the courage to exploit. Felice had even hired swim instructors for her on numerous occasions, but she always refused to go past her knees.
In the past, I have coaxed a few other friends into the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean and was willing to do the same for Oliviera. The sea is so refreshing and calm that I thought it was a shame for her to miss out on the fun: the sweet relief of the cool water after the hot sunny trip; the luxurious feeling of the salty water playing about her skin; the delight of looking down at her own feet distorted by the water's perspective. So I invited her to come in with me and promised I would not let go of her hand, no matter what.
To everyone's great delight, she agreed to put on a life preserver & venture into the watery depths. I could tell she was a bit nervous, but I was just there with her and reminded her to breathe once in a while, when I noticed she was holding her breath. She knew I understood and respected her fear, but I wanted to support her in overcoming it and in taking part in the pleasures she had been missing out on in the past. We did a two-handed water waltz that first day, but by the end of her stay, she was able to let go of both my hands and paddle herself about with me treading water near her.
I really admired her courage because the water is quite deep where we were, and it was no small feat for her to climb down the ladder clad in her life-ring that first dip. She was so happy and proud of herself and the first thing she did when back on board was to call her grandkids and tell them what she and la mia Alessandra had done.
My friends, Felice & Oliviera, have been fellow hotel guests and occasional passengers on the hotel's wooden cruiser, Il San Antonio II, for the past few years. Over the years ,we have developed the enviable ritual of setting out from the mossy dock at 10:30 almost every morning and ferrying out to a pristine part of the coastline. The skipper drops the anchor a few hundred feet from shore, and the guests, plop lazily one by one, into the cobalt water. The more daring of us don flippers and a mask & snorkel and follow schools of Guaracini back to the shoals and rocks that host varied sea life such as sponges, "sea-tomatoes" and sea urchins, among other creatures.
What I didn't know was that Oliviera did not know how to swim & was actually quite afraid of the water. In fact, her husband had nestled a pool in their backyard over 30 years ago, which she had never gotten the courage to exploit. Felice had even hired swim instructors for her on numerous occasions, but she always refused to go past her knees.
In the past, I have coaxed a few other friends into the crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean and was willing to do the same for Oliviera. The sea is so refreshing and calm that I thought it was a shame for her to miss out on the fun: the sweet relief of the cool water after the hot sunny trip; the luxurious feeling of the salty water playing about her skin; the delight of looking down at her own feet distorted by the water's perspective. So I invited her to come in with me and promised I would not let go of her hand, no matter what.
To everyone's great delight, she agreed to put on a life preserver & venture into the watery depths. I could tell she was a bit nervous, but I was just there with her and reminded her to breathe once in a while, when I noticed she was holding her breath. She knew I understood and respected her fear, but I wanted to support her in overcoming it and in taking part in the pleasures she had been missing out on in the past. We did a two-handed water waltz that first day, but by the end of her stay, she was able to let go of both my hands and paddle herself about with me treading water near her.
I really admired her courage because the water is quite deep where we were, and it was no small feat for her to climb down the ladder clad in her life-ring that first dip. She was so happy and proud of herself and the first thing she did when back on board was to call her grandkids and tell them what she and la mia Alessandra had done.
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