As we sailed into port, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Venice was a city that appeared to be floating on the water. Instead of roads, there were canals. And courtyards swarming with people. I saw buildings unlike any I had ever seen—many wrapped in row after row of columns.
By the time we docked, I was desperate to get off the ship and explore this amazing city. The Captain said most of the crew could take shore leave while The Jellyfish was being restocked for the voyage across the Atlantic. So Andelbert and I took our leave accompanied by Jonas, who spoke fluent Italian—along with several other languages.
After walking a short distance from The Jellyfish, we found ourselves boarding yet another ship. This time a long, thin boat that was propelled by a man pushing a long pole down into the water. Jonas said the boats were called gondolas. We rode the gondola down several canals surrounded by buildings on both sides. Along the way, we crossed under several tall arched bridges. On one bridge, a pretty girl waved at me and dropped a flower into our gondola. I picked up the flower and waved back. Then we slid under the bridge, and she was gone. It was like living a dream.
We arrived at a dock and got out of the boat. Jonas paid the gondola driver, and we headed into a courtyard surrounded by shops. As we walked across the courtyard, we heard a familiar sound. Andelbert and I both looked at each other. Before long, we found an old man seated on a stool playing violin. He was surprisingly good, yet most people were ignoring him. We walked over to him and listened to him play until he finished the song. We applauded. He smiled and nodded at his open violin case. Jonas told us that he played in the hope of getting coins from those who enjoyed his playing. So, I immediately placed a couple of coins in his case.
“Grazie.” The man replied.
I turned to Andelbert and said, “Andelbert, I am buying you a violin.”
“Lord, I would not want you to spend your traveling money on me.”
“I know. Which is why I told you I am doing it. Save your protest. It is wasted breath. And remember, you are not to call me Lord on this journey. Call me Britpop.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
I asked Jonas to tell the man that his playing and his instrument were beautiful. And to ask the man where we could buy a violin.
After a few minutes of talking, including much arm waving and pointing, Jonas returned.
“He thanks you for the compliment and says you can buy violins at several shops in town, but they are junk designed for children or travelers with no taste. He says if you want a real violin, you must buy one made by his friend Antonio, who made the one he is playing. He claims they are the best violins in all of Italy. He has a shop here in Venice.”
“Excellent. Lead the way,” I instructed Jonas.
Soon we were back in another gondola on the way to the instrument shop.
“How is it you can speak so many languages?” I asked Jonas about his apparent ease with languages.
“My parents were English. When I was a lad, my father took a position with the government in Jamaica. Growing up in Kingston, I heard many languages and seemed to have a gift for learning them. I would pick up a word here and there, and before long, I was speaking another one.”
“That is amazing,” I replied.
“Yeah, my Pa said it would do me well in government work.”
Suddenly, Jonas got quiet.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up on The Jellyfish crew?” I asked.
“When I was about fifteen, my whole family was sailing from Kingston to Port Royale. A big storm blew in. Our ship flipped over and sank in just minutes. I remember falling into the water and then my father grabbing me and pulling me toward a wooden crate that was floating by. I grabbed onto the crate just as another big wave hit us. I held onto the crate and rose up to the surface again, but I was alone. That was the last time I saw my parents or my sisters.”
“I am so sorry, Jonas. I did not know,” I replied.
“How could ya? The storm finally passed, and I floated with that crate for what seemed like an eternity. Then, I seen a ship coming my way. It was The Jellyfish. The crew fished me out of the water and took care of me. After a couple of days, the Captain came to me and asked, ‘Boy, do you have anyone we can take you to?’
I thought about it and said, ‘I got no family left.’
The Captain said, ‘You have one now. If you want it, you can sail with us. Just know that we are pirates, and if we ever get caught, we will all be hanged back in Kingston.’
Well, they didn’t seem much like pirates to me. And I couldn’t face returning to Kingston on my own, so I took him up on his offer. And I have been on the crew of The Jellyfish ever since.”
“Amazing,” was all I could think of to say.
We arrived at our next stop and got out of the gondola. After walking a short distance, we came to the instrument shop. I walked in and saw rows of violins hanging on the wall. And next to the violins, to my great delight, a pair of guitars.
An older man walked out of a door in the back and greeted us kindly.
“Benvenuto,” he said.
We all replied, “Ciao.”
Then I thought to ask him if he spoke French. Since Venice was a port city, and Italy neighbored France, I hoped he might speak French also.
“But of course,” he replied.
I sighed in relief. Having Jonas translate was helpful but time-consuming.
“Wonderful. We met Giovanni in the courtyard, and he sent us here to buy a violin. He said you make the best violins in all of Italy.”
“Giovanni is a wise man,” he said and then chuckled.
“He knows I will give him some strings for his trouble. But he was not wrong. I have dedicated my life to the art of instrument making. And I am not too humble to say I make excellent instruments. How long have you been playing?”
“The violin is for my brother Andelbert. He has taken a few lessons but doesn’t own a violin. He desperately wants one,” I replied.
“Very well. I have many good ones here.”
“Excellent. As neither of us is knowledgeable about violins, I would ask you to pick out the best one, and that is the one we will purchase.”
He tilted his head and looked up at the violins hanging on the wall, then walked over to the one farthest from the door. He carefully took it down and brought it to Andelbert.
Andelbert looked at me, and I said, “Take it and try it out.”
“I would be embarrassed to play it in front of its maker. I am just a beginner,” Andelbert said.
The shop owner said, “You do not need to play her. Simply hold her and look at her. Does she look pleasing?”
“Yes,” Andelbert replied.
“Then hold her to your neck like you would if you were to play her.”
Andelbert followed his directions.
“Does she feel good?”
“Yes, it feels wonderful,” Andelbert answered.
“A violin is not an it. A violin is a living thing, like a woman. You must love her before she will return your love. Are you prepared to work for her love?”
“I am,” Andelbert stated sincerely as he gazed at the violin. I think he had already fallen in love.
“Bene. Good. Then, I am prepared to offer her to you.”
The shop owner said the words like a father offering his daughter’s hand in marriage.
He turned to me and said, “She will not come cheap. But she is worth it.”
“I am sure we can agree on a fair price, but I am not finished shopping. I am interested in a guitar for myself.”
The shop owner looked surprised and said, “Well, it is truly a fortunate day for us both. I had planned to leave for my workshop in Cremona. I was ready to walk out when you arrived. Now it looks like I will make two sales today.”
He walked over to the guitars and picked one of the two he had. Then he continued, “Violins are widely popular, but guitars are gaining in popularity. Especially in Spain, where they play them most peculiarly. Flicking them with their fingernails and slapping them. Is that how you show love?”
“I do not know. I have only seen one guitar in my life while in Spain. A man played it, and a beautiful woman danced.”
The shop owner burst into loud laughter. “So you hope to use a guitar to capture a beautiful woman? It is not a wrong strategy. It has worked for many men. But if it is your sole reason for playing, you will likely abandon the guitar before you attain the skill needed to play it.”
“No, no. I fell in love with the sound of the guitar before the woman even arrived. And knew I must play one,” I said, defending my intentions.
He looked at me for a moment and said, “Very well. Then I will sell this one to you.”
He handed me the guitar. I took it and gently brushed my fingers over the strings. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew it felt right.
Then the owner said, “Let me get you some cases and strings so you can be on your way. You will need to change strings occasionally when they break.”
“Then, I would like to buy several sets of strings. We are headed for the New World, and it is a long voyage.”
“Ah, an adventurer. I wish you much success. When you play your guitar or violin in the New World, and people ask you where you got such a fine-sounding instrument, you must tell them in Italy, of course. From Antonio Stradivari.”
“I certainly will,” I replied.
As we left the shop carrying our new treasures, I was thrilled.
Andelbert was also smiling and said, “I am truly grateful for this wonderful gift. I hope I can someday repay you for it.”
“Learn to play well, and we will play together. That would be the best payment I can imagine,” I replied.
Jonas piped in, “Come on, you two. Enough shopping. Let’s go get some food. I’m starving.”