Being There

The Venetians Have Landed

Cruising to the Heart of Oakland

    Gazing across Lake Merritt at dusk, I watch the silhouette of a Venetian craft silently approaching. Out climb Reggie Payne and Paul Wemsley, a couple celebrating eight years together with a cruise of the local waters. “We loved it. He is so knowledgeable about the lake, and the fact that he sang made it a lot better,” said Payne, pointing to gondolier Angelino Sandri, who operates the Gondola Servizio. So moved by the experience is Payne that he wants readers, especially any young impressionable ones out there, to know “that it’s not just about sex; romance is important too.”
    Hold on. Just what is going on aboard these gondolas?
    In my three years of writing my way around Oakland, the gondolas on Lake Merritt have occasionally bobbed into view. Seen from a distance they are a cheery sight, yes, but not especially Oaklandish. Then a friend who works as a gondolier invited me out for a cruise. Reaching the center of the lake—part of a circulatory system fed by storm drains from all the way up in the hills—with the sound of circling traffic softened to a pulse, I realized I’d been transported to the very heart of Oakland, and I’d floated there in a thousand-year-old limousine. Seeing the city from this vantage point, with the rhythm of oar against oarlock, water kissing wood, was romantic, and I wondered why it took me so long to get out there.
    Angelino Sandri, 44, who grew up in Canada, became so enamored of gondola culture while visiting family in Venice, Italy, that he stayed for six years to study with the masters. The complex rowing technique he learned allows propulsion and steering with a single oar, used only on the right side of the boat. Sandri points out the unique asymmetrical profile of the hull, which bulges out on the left to counter-balance the single oarsman. This innovation came in the 19th century, when fewer people could afford the cost of
two oarsmen.
    Sandri, who met his wife, April, on a gondola ride, is a wealth of such gondola lore. Inspired to spread his passion for gondolas in United States, Sandri commissioned four boats from one of the few remaining traditional builders. A gondola takes around three months to build and uses eight types of wood: larch, fir, oak, elm, cherry, mahogany, linden and walnut, each suited to a different function. Every detail speaks of the history of Venice and a tradition that is now frozen in time.
    In the beginning of the 20th century, as gondolas began to be eclipsed by motorized boats, the Venetian city fathers had an idea. They codified the gondola image: The boat design would not change, and gondoliers were required to wear a uniform of striped shirt, straw hat and jacket. This early branding effort helped turn Venice into one of the most touristed cities on the planet, with gondoliers serving as guides who add some romantic spice.
    As he paddles, Sandri shares his knowledge of the lake and gondola history. “Each tour is different for me,” he says. “I like people and I learn a lot from them. It’s like a massage table—you are intimate with a person for a while and then they’re gone.” He also takes his Cupid role quite seriously. About 90 percent of his passengers are couples, and he knows when to fade into the background, croon a Venetian folk song and let the lapping water work its magic. “Some people get on their hands and knees and are getting rings and crying—there are some pretty intimate moments. People taking clothes off!”
    Though couples account for most of his business, families and birthday parties go out, even strange political bedfellows. “Jerry [Brown] and Jacques [Barzaghi] went out one time.” Trying to rekindle an old flame, one wonders? “It wasn’t that interesting. Jacques was on his cell phone the whole time!”
    “I had a Berkeley professor on my boat, and he had a gorgeous redhead with him and they were flirting and reading erotic poetry, giggling and kissing. They got off the boat and he said to me, ‘I had an amazing time; I’ve been transported to Venice. Thank you so much. Next time I’m going to bring my wife.’ And sure enough, two nights later he brought his wife!”
    There you have it, kids. Go for the sex and the romance.

    This cruise to the heart ends my three-year journey in search of the unique, the odd and yes, the romantic qualities that make Oakland interesting. Being There will be going away for now—hope to meet you in print again, but until then, ciao!