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I said looking at the Basin. "Fortunately, Garet-el-Fendis is gone..." 

"Garet-el-Fendis? Africa?" 

"Yes, this is how Gianfranco baptized it in return for the place where he fought in Africa. Or, to put it in the words of Federico Kechler who sold it to us, 'a yacht of two tons and twenty cents star-masted.' Since she had taken a few sailing lessons, Francesca felt she was a 'flagship' and commanded: 'You stay the sheet slack!' well not exactly like that but always mysterious phrases for us. 'Be careful not to scratch the paint!' she shouted every time we boarded. It was moored a stone's throw from here..." I said, gesturing to the right, "at the Sailing Club."

"Where once was the Mint that coined the famous gold coins?"

"Exactly. Every departure, an adventure: once we rammed a dingy stopped in front, another time at the first turn we were about to sink a sandal full of people. One day, after unsuccessful attempts to moor to a buoy, we dropped anchor to swim. Garet-el-Fendis, with the help of the current, freed the anchor from the slippery bottom of the lagoon and left alone. Reaching it by swimming was not easy, believe me." 

"Are your sea trips always so complicated?" smiled Papa.

"Always. We were back there" I said pointing in the direction of San Giorgio "and we were peacefully lying in the sun when some women gathered on the neighboring island shouting: "Our Lady is crying! Satan will destroy you! Shame on going around naked! "Even though we weren't actually naked but in bathing suits it seemed useless to discuss it with the women who were screaming louder and louder as they shook the garden gates. We decided...