My sailboat is a 19’ flat bottomed plywood skiff named ‘Tramontana.’ That moniker is a bit above her station, her being of a workboat lineage. Tramontana is the name of a breeze in the Mediterranean. I pulled it from the Patrick O’Brian novel Master and Commander, and no matter what other alternatives I came up with I kept circling back around to Tramontana. I recently found the passage that must have caught my eye, but it didn’t reveal much. I think I simply liked the name, and ending in an A, it’s of the female gender and ripe for boat naming.
I bring this topic up as it relates to a couple close friends of mine in Charlotte, Jim and Paolo. Jim I look forward to sailing with some day. Paolo stated flatly that he’s never getting in my boat, and that was before I had some close shaves. Anyway Paolo is one of the people I was talking about in my intro (those friends who prefer to stay on dry land). He actually told me a story of watching his uncles’ small boat being destroyed by a storm and strewn along a beach in Italy where Paolo is from. Perhaps that left an impression.
Jim and Paolo always endured my talk of boat building with a benevolent patience, but when I shared the name I had in mind I threw Paolo for a loop. “Tramontana? That’s the name of my neighborhood in Pisa!” Paolo said with amazement. I was amused to hear that, but I didn’t realize the connection it had for him till he filled me in. In prepping for this post I recently asked Paolo a few questions, and he sat down and wrote the following. I include it because it’s a cool piece of culture and history which has nothing to do with sailboats.
The word tramontana (Tra = Between or In-between, Montana = Mountainous ) has historically used to indicate a cold, northern wind that enters Tuscany from the gaps created by the Alps; hence the word "in between the mountains". It is a Mediterranean wind that was well known by sailors, and before them even by the ancient Romans. In fact the term tramontana derives from the Latin "Intra Montes or Trans Montes, which translated into English would sound "in between the mountains, or beyond the mountains".
The northern side of the Tuscan city of Pisa, which is literally split in two by the Arno river, is known as "Tramontana" because of its geographical location, which is north of the Arno river. The southern side of the city of Pisa, located south of the Arno river, is known as "Mezzogiorno", which translated into English would sound "Midday". Mezzogiorno or Midday is a term that has been historically used by Italians to refer to the direction "South".
So the name of your sharpie - Tramontana - is densely meaningful: it is refers to the wind that propels her at times, it refers to the fast, razor sharp northern wind , and it refers to the northern side of the City of Pisa, to which I emotionally and physically belong. Also, it refers the party of "Tramontana", which is one of the two antithetical parties (Tramontana, and Mezzogiorno) of the historical game known as "Il Gioco Del Ponte" or "The Game of The Bridge", played in Pisa once a year since the 1100's.
Since the Middle Ages, the two sides of the city of Pisa (Tramontana, and Mezzogiorno) would engage in a war-like game as a way to practice combat skills. Each of the two sides would try and conquer the other side. More recently the "fight" would culminate right on the "Ponte di Mezzo" (Bridge In the Middle), which was the central gateway over the Arno river. The fight would involve militia and special weapon called targone or mazza-scudo (mace-shield), which was a narrow wooden shield that could also be used as a mace to push, swing, and ricochet blows. Written documentation from 1407 describes this game, so that tells you how old the tradition is.
Until the year 2008, the Game of the Bridge took place on the last Sunday of June, every year. From 2009, it takes place on the last Saturday of June, every year at 8:00PM. Each side of the City of Pisa is subdivided into 6 magistracies representing city districts for a total of 12. Saint Mary, Saint Francis, Saint Michael, The Satyrs, and Calci under Tramontana. Saint Anthony, Saint Martin, Saint Marc, The Lions, The Dragons, and the Dolphins under Mezzogiorno.
During WWII, the original Ponte di Mezzo (Bridge in the Middle) was bombed and destroyed. The game was interrupted until the new Ponte di Mezzo was built. A "tamed" version of the war-like fight was introduced. The physical fight of two armies over the Bridge in the Middle was replaced with a tug-war involving a monumental carriage that requires a total of 40 men (20 on each side). The 12 magistracies fight of over the bridge with a fierce tug-war, which can last a few minutes. The historical record is 22 minutes and 25 seconds in 1992 when San Michael and the Dolphins fought each other; St. Michael won that particularly fierce fight.
Awesome no? These guys went at each other with cricket bats just for the pure fun of it! (The targone looks like a cricket bat). I’m sure there was lots of gambling as well. To put it in context one could compare it to the melee’ competition folks are familiar with in medieval jousting tournaments. The classic Ivanhoe comes to mind. The modern version of the fight, the pushing of the carriage, is another one of those amazing European events like the Palio of Senia or the Running of the Bulls in Spain. I couldn’t find any good images of the spectacle but here’s a link if you want to see it.
http://gioco.amicidelgiocodelponte.it/pisa-battle-on-the-bridge.php
The carriage slides on rails, and twenty men on each side endeavor to shove the thing to the other side and knock over a flag. It was fun to hear Paolo tell stories of the rival’s attempts to give themselves an edge as the competition has developed; people discreetly using bars as levers, and magnets on the rail to encumber the other side!
Paolo sent home for a Tramontana flag and here you can see the targoni crossed behind a helmet.
Blue, black and white I believe are the colors of Paolo’s neighborhood, and these colors fly in the parades that precede the competition. Kent Reetz and I flew this flag on a sail at Cape San Blas, but it was really too large for my mizzen mast and not being made of heavy canvas it would've been whipped to shreds. Paolo sent me a link with different flags of the Pisan neighborhoods, but I was unclear at the time just who went with what flag. Some of the images were very strange, and the true Tramontana crest, the helmet being central, seemed to not fit quite right with this area. I was attracted to the sun image particularly; sun=Florida, and the half cross indicates Pisa, which I thought looked good together. I settled on that.
So, it should have seemed obvious I was picking as my pennant the flag of the opposing neighborhood- being a sun and all. Mezzogiorno=midday, but I was too far along when I learned this to stop, and Paolo was magnanimous about it, plus no one at the boat ramp in Wakulla county has pointed out the incongruity either, so now the lovely (at a distance) hand sew pennant flies on the leech of my mizzen sail.
Sewing the pennant was a learning experience, considering I chose possibly the hardest possible design to try to hand sew using really thin but stiff material (it was a mix of sun resistant stuff and an old tent rain fly). I brought it everywhere and poked away at it for a year. I now know why flags of the Civil War often looked so heinous. They used what materials they had at hand, and nobody in camp could sew. Plus the enemy was continuously shooting holes in them I suppose. I also had help with it from several people who took it for a time. Otherwise I’d probably still be poking at it.
Spray paint....that is in my heading. But this has gone on long enough, so painting the name on the stern will have to wait for another post. That’s the boat building part of the blog I look forward to.
As a postscript I want to share a few things about my friend from Italy. Paolo Batoni is an research engineer who attended the University of North Carolina. He currently develops Deep Ultraviolet (UV-C) technology, and has had a part in bringing to market the world’s first UV-C LED water disinfection system that can be used in labs and applications where mercury needs to be avoided. He is also continuing to develop hand held battery or solar power operated water disinfection systems utilizing UV-C LEDs that in the short term can be used in underdeveloped countries and scenarios where in line voltage is not available.
If you do a quick search of his name on Wikipedia, you’ll see not Paolo, but his direct descendant Pompeii Girolamoi Batoni, an 18th Century portrait painter whose work hangs in galleries around the world. Hannah and I found a Batoni at the National Gallery in DC, as well as a couple at the Met in New York. Paolo and Jim have also found them at the NC Museum of Art in Raleigh, and at the Getty Museum in L.A. Oh, Cleveland too! I happen to have found a photo I snapped, so enjoy!
.....and from the weather rail.....(I’m holding up my coffee cup) Here’s to you!
I also saw a "Pompeii Batoni" in Detroit. It was quite a thrill. I can't wait to read the next installment dealing with spray paint...
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