Costa Concordia, the cruise liner that ran aground on Giglio island off the coast of Tuscany on Friday the 13th, is one of the largest to ply the crowded sea lanes of the Mediterranean. It is 290 metres long and weighs 114,000 tonnes.
It is strange that none of the officers on the bridge realised that the ship had moved so dangerously close to land and to the protruding reef- Enrico Gurioli
I was a guest of the shipping line, Costa Crociere, on board the cruise liner on its transfer from the port of Genoa to the port of Civitavecchia, from where it was to start its maiden voyage in July 2006.
It was my first cruise experience aboard such a gigantic ship. It was the most one could expect from life at sea at the beginning of the 21st century.
What was immediately striking was the sheer capacity of the ship: its luxuriously-appointed interiors and, above all, the ability to carry a total of some 5,000 persons between passengers and crew.
For me, at least, unused to the inconveniences of life at sea, it was a voyage aboard a sort of floating tourist village where one wakes up every morning in a different Mediterranean port.
The onboard hospitality, as with all shipping companies, was exceptional. On board the Costa Concordia there were 17 decks to explore, besides restaurants, theatres, a buffet bar and a spa on two decks, the largest ever to be constructed on board a cruise ship, compete with gym, baths, thalassotherapy pool, beauty treatment halls, saunas and Turkish baths.
My cabin was on a par with a luxury, five-star hotel room. In short, here was a ship where everything was planned to make guests feel they were “keeping their feet on the ground” and enjoying a comfortable experience afloat.
The liner was intended to navigate the Mediterranean, historically the world’s richest sea, to call at those ports where, over the centuries, so many ships and seamen of the three religions of the Book have met.
This, in brief, is what I recall of that enjoyable journey on that ship, an experience shared by the hundreds of thousands of tourists who every day embark on cruise ships all over the Mediterranean. It is a growing success in what is now being defined as naval gigantism: the parameters of maritime development determined by the competition of a limited number of global shipping lines.
More than five years have gone by since that date of July 7, 2006 when the ship was inaugurated, not launched, in a memorable ceremony conducted by a sparkling Antonella Clerici and an exceptional ship’s “godmother” in the shape of top model Eva Herzigova.
From seating put up at the quay of the port of Civitavecchia we watched a magnificent show by trapeze artists suspended in mid-air, a diver who plunged into just over a metre of water from the ship’s bridge, water games, acrobatic dances featuring fire and lights, all of which preceded the traditional launching of a bottle of champagne against the ship’s keel as a sign of good luck
Everything seemed to be going according to plan but in the worst possible way: the bottle was broken only at the third attempt when a ship’s officer took it by the neck and smashed it against the bow.
Seafarers are usually tied to sound traditions: frankly, that circus-like launching was out of place and unfortunate.
There is a detail that is not widely known regarding the ship’s passage along the coast of the island of Giglio. It was a ritual that had become customary.
Last August, the island’s mayor wrote: “Dear Captain Massimo Calisto Garbarino, after yesterday evening’s incredible spectacle, with the passage of the supership Concordia in front of Giglio Porto, I could not help expressing my satisfaction to you, on behalf of all our community, including our tourist guests, honoured by this important event… we have been regaled with a unique spectacle of its kind.”
The commanding officer’s reply was not long in coming: “Good evening, Signor Ortelli, please excuse my delay in replying to your letter, which has been truly appreciated. This is the second time that I have made the passage in front of Giglio island in the month of August with the Costa Concordia. It was a wonderful experience three years ago and it has been equally moving this year. Yesterday evening, as we went past the harbour, I could note the thousands of flash bulbs going off from cameras and I could also see the numerous tourists who have watched the ship’s passing, also thanks to the publicity you gave on GiglioNews… It was a wonderful event and I hope it could become, even for us aboard the ship, a tradition to keep…”
It seems that the ship was on its usual route, although it has transpired that the ship’s present captain, Francesco Schettino, wanted to do a favour to his maitre d’, who hails from Giglio, by getting as close as possible – just 90 metres away, in fact – from the shore and from his house.
In any case, it is strange that none of the officers on the bridge realised that the ship had moved so dangerously close to land and to the protruding reef.
The tragedy that struck the Costa Concordia paradoxically should not be considered as one of the great shipwrecks of history but as part of the competitive game between the shipping companies to draw the greatest “landscape profit” of navigation in the Mediterranean, where each day is marked by incidents: so many tragedies involving loss of life in crossings by illegal immigrants, often the result of lack of navigation skills.
Was the Costa Concordia tragically fated to run aground?
One doubt remains. On November 22, 2008, strong winds made the ship hit the quay at the port of Palermo. Thankfully, there were no victims then.
So one should not be surprised if one of these giant ships, running aground on an island, can repeat the incident even inside harbours rich in history and culture, such as Valletta or Venice. Not all shipping companies support the trend towards ever more gigantic ships. While this could bring running costs down, on the other hand it makes it increasingly difficult to access harbours and to navigate around shores. All the major ports of call in the Mediterranean are historical harbours going back even over 2,000 years, at the time of the Phoenicians, the Romans and in the Middle Ages.