In the four years I'd spent living in Siena I had anxiously attempted visits to the historic and romantic isle of Elba, each time to meet disappointing failure. Attempt number one: with Australian super hunk surfer and travel partner Dwayne Power, 'Uno Sciopero'. Ferry on strike. Oh well, we made it down to beautiful Monte Argentario and I was appeased. Attempt number two: with my Caro Giuseppe, The ferry would have been running, but 'il mare mosso' kept me once again on the mainland. Fast forward to september 2011, a bonafide diving trip to Elba has been scheduled, and the third time will be a charm. Finalmente!!!!!! The 'mare mosso' was acting up again, but decided to calm her spirits as to not crush my now very high hopes. She could feel my bursting anticipation. Four days of diving had been planned, and in the process I'd do at least most of the skill tests and dives to get my underwater diver certification. Exciting to say the least. I was enjoying my last month of being in my thirties, and had been through a hurricane of emotional upheaval in 2011. As an appropriate remedy for said strife, I was spending a total of two months in Italy, not bad eh?....but was particularly desperate for this mini getaway from the very depths of my DNA. I marveled at the size of Elba as my friend and I enjoyed the ferry crossing over from Piombino. I had always imagined Elba to be a sweet and petite island, 'dolce e piccolino'. It was sweet, and beautiful in deed, but hardly tiny. Eight-six square miles around to be precise. As we neared closer to the island, I fell in love with its majestic coastline, mountainous landscape and sensual, Loren- like visual appeal.
We would be staying in the area known as Capoliveri, right on the sea looking out towards Corsica. The only thing that was planned in advance were some dive classes with, strangely enough, a german outfitter up the road from our hotel. All other details and adventures would be placed in the very capable hands of the universe. The power of impromptu is not to be messed with in my book. Impromptu also happened to work very well on Elba. Our hotel was familiar and perfectly strategic, the weather sent from heaven, almost balmy for mid-september, and I was thankful for it all. The winding roads that led to the beach where we did our first dives were bursting with giant aloe that clung to the steep landscape with grace despite their size and weight. In italian you'd say they had 'grinta' which means to hang on with spirit, and that's just what they did. The 'grinta' of the aloe was adversely but perfectly balanced by the elegance of the pink oleander that were the last trees you saw before your eyes met the peace and distance of the sea. We made all the right choices when it came to food as well. We were hungry for fresh seafood, and would not be disappointed at any stop. We enjoyed octopus salad with red pepper, olives and celery for lunch at the hotel -restaurant next door to us. Stuffed squid at a simple trattoria in Capoliveri center, and tiny fresh clams with bursting warm cherry tomatoes on pasta that was 'the dish' of the locale at two different restaurants. We had a proper fancy meal out in Capoliveri center as well, at a place called 'Freccia Azzurra', Blue Arrow. The red wine was unique and spicy, appropriately from Elba, and the appetizers were as visually sumptuous as they were delicious. Grilled polpo, octopus with potatoes and rosemary, and a layered composition of 'seppia', squid, cavolo nero, black cabbage, and tomatoes in a garlic gravy between paper-thin crisp bread. 'Favoloso'. So fabulous my taste buds were totally stoned. An honorable mention goes out to the extremely fresh grilled fish paired with roast potatoes that followed those oscar winning apps.
'Polpo' is big on Elba, and I couldn't seem to eat enough of it. The texture and tenderness, in garlic and oil, with a slight but perfect grill on the edges drowned in fresh lemon juice.....ecstasy. I'll admit I was a bit drunk on polpo by the third day there, but couldn't deny it's inherent deliciousness. I didn't know it, but my relationship with polpo was about to be altered forever. I was pretty happy with the dive shop where I'd done my first dives, and had a nice comradery with Nadja, my instructor. My friend however, who was a much more experienced diver than I, was curious about the shop that was next to our hotel. We ironically found out from our waitress at the hotel whose boyfriend was an instructor there, that they were the Mack Daddy shop on Elba and had been for over fifty years. She walked us over moments later, and our last day of diving was now planned with Centro Corsaro Sub. Corsaro had some amazing history with record setting free dives, and the free diving God, Jacques Mayol. The photo wall inside the center made me feel confident and exhilarated about the day of dives that we'd do with Corsaro. I couldn't wait. Marco, our boat captain and dive leader was a sweetheart and his confidence in me made me feel an unwavering confidence in myself. I was the beginner of the group, and wasn't even certified yet, but was going to go for it. The dives would be deeper than I'd done before, but I felt safe and excited about the spot they'd chosen for the day. We went to Capo Fonza that morning and the boat anchored in a cove that made me feel like I was in a scene from a sixties Bond film. The sun was strong, and the turquoise waters kind of rough, but despite the all over heaviness of the gear, I felt levity. Down we went, me following Marco, checking in with an "ok" sign meter after meter. I had been doing well the previous days, but finally felt I was starting to master the laws of buoyancy, and moved in and out of close quarters along the reef formations with ease. I felt fearless, weightless, and my normally tightly wound brain was, in a word, buoyant. I had never felt so peaceful and free in my life. We saw moray eel, bright purple starfish, lavender micro-creatures called Fiabellina, schools of barracuda and polpi. Tanti polpi. I had an eye for finding the well camouflaged octopus in the days before as well, but hadn't gotten so close or personal, as I would on that very memorable dive. We were nearing the time to start our ascent, and I savored every cycle of breathe in, breathe out, knowing that soon enough I would be back to the surface. I was just next to, but in front of Marco as he motioned for me to come to him. As I got closer I could see that he had a small octopus in his hand. I glided up as close to it as I could, hoping not to frighten it, and could see every detail of the fascinating creature, as my eyes fell into a syrupy trance with it. It was a momentary mental and spiritual exchange between species. It was so enchanting and more powerful than any natural experience I'd ever had. Marco motioned to me that I could stroke it, so I gently caressed its ultra-delicate, alien like head, and I felt its very soul come into my fingertips. A moment later Marco let it out of his hand and it floated next to me for a few more seconds in my gaze before releasing a ceremonious squirt of ink and propelling itself away. I was totally mesmerized. Thinking back on the out of body experience, I realize that I left a metric ton of emotional fear and self judging in that cloud of ink. It was about time, or better stated, it was the right time to do so. I had visited Saint Peter's, and many of the grandest cathedrals in Italy, and never felt the presence of God as I had there with that magnificent creature. I think about Signor Polpo every day, and need not tell you that the octopus now has an all-gracious spiritual power for me, and I a reverence and respect for it, such that I will never again think of it as a food source. Grazie, Signor Polpo.
