It was a normal day at the office when Super yacht A pulled into the harbour. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stood in awe of her massive size, girth, and colour. We all looked at each other with quizzical glares wondering who it could be and why would they anchor right in front of our restaurant. We were just setting up the garden restaurant for the evening when a flashy car pulled into the driveway and out stepped two impeccably dressed sailors, sky blue pants, and crisp white dress shirts. They asked to speak to management and we happily obliged. It was the captain of super-yacht A and his first mate, they wanted a tour of the restaurant to suss out the best table for their billionaire boss. Continue reading
In life, I believe everything happens for a reason.
Why did a brand new, ensign of Canada land in my hands yesterday morning? Coincidence? Fate? A message in a
bottle ensign? Or just the sweet generosity of the man who found it?
Our conversation went something like this:
The Italian Version
Sweet Man – Boungirono. Ho trovato una bandiera canadese e pensato a te, ti piace?
Me – Oh, buongiorno. Ma, hai trovato una bandiera canadese? Dove?
Sweet Man – In Costa Paradiso. Qualcuno l’ha buttato via.
Me – Perché qualcuno dovrebbe buttarlo fuori? Non e giusto.
Sweet Man – Non lo so, ma vuoi?
Me – Ma, certo. Grazie.
Sweet Man – Io te lo darò a te ora.
Me – Sei molto gentile. Grazie.
Sweet Man – Good Morning. I found a Canadian flag and thought of you. Would you like it?
Me – Oh, good morning. But, you found a Canadian flag? Where?
Sweet Man – In Costa Paradiso. Someone threw it out.
Me – Why would someone throw it out? It’s not right.
Sweet Man – I don’t know, but do you want it?
Me – But, certainly. Thank you.
Sweet Man – I will give it to you now.
Me – You are very kind. Thank you.
And with that, I am now the owner of a brand spanking new Canadian ensign, for a boat that I don’t have.
Did you know?
To sail from Toronto, Canada to Costa Paradiso, Sardinia, Italy with a pit-stop in Gibraltar Continue reading