May it be far from me to herald the new year with a broken string or rusty trombone, but although I have almost completely lost interest in reporting on Venice’s daily misadventures, I can’t resist this one. I should, but I can’t, because what happened seems like it ought to raise at least a chuckle. Instead, I think it’s more deserving of a resounding raspberry.
You have heard of the Great Man theory of history? I propose the unfortunate incident of January 6 as an example of the theory, yet to be named, of the phenomenon by which is is almost guaranteed that the simplest task will also prove to be the most important, and the easiest to forget at the moment of crisis. Or put it this way: If something is going wrong, the office tasked with providing measures against wrong-going will be closed for the holiday weekend, call back on Monday.
Brief context: Vast work was completed in November 2022 to encircle the basilica of San Marco with a glass wall to defend it from acqua alta. Too many years, rounded off to the nearest century, of saltwater soaks have damaged the mosaics and marble columns of the narthex, damage I have seen with my own eyes.
Although the MOSE system had finally become functional by then, the lagoon barriers were intended to be raised (it was said) only when the tide was predicted to reach 140 cm above mean sea level. It costs hundreds of thousands of euros each time to raise the floodgates, and they are only useful for a few hours, so the deciders have to decide if the expected height of the water justifies the cost. That is a very tricky calculation to make, as you can imagine.
Of course, as soon as that level was stipulated as raising-gates time there came wails and shrieks from all sides, people objecting to the (to them) unreasonably high limit. So the city rapidly backtracked, and the likely level for floodgate-raising dropped by tens; it went down to 130, then 120, then 110, then even 100. It was like an auction in reverse where the bids are decreasing. In any case it appears that the cutoff height seems to be slightly negotiable.
The Piazza San Marco stands at 85 cm above mean sea level, so it is destined to be damp even with the most modest inundations. And the basilica couldn’t be expected to tolerate small water on the stone while waiting to be protected from big water. Therefore the highly excellent idea of protecting the basilica alone was mooted, and budgeted, and scheduled, and accomplished.
And yet, on the morning of January 6, water rose to a mere 97 cm in the Piazza; not enough to require MOSE to be activated, by any means, but enough to drench the narthex of the basilica just as it had in 1859 (made up. Could have put 1759. 1620. 1492.) The very thing that 5 million euros had been spent to prevent just up and happened all by itself.
Because there are openings in the glass barrier wall to permit people to enter the church. Those openings must be closed with the typical metal barrier, otherwise there’s no point in having the wall. Workers (usually from the two construction companies involved) have to put up the barriers. And somebody has to tell them to do it. But if you haven’t got the workers because they’re all off duty for the holiday weekend, does it matter who is responsible for ordering all hands on deck? Of course it does.
Not made up. The workers were absent. The person who provides for emergency interventions somehow did not check the tide forecast, even though everybody in Venice does it about ten times a day. Perhaps that person didn’t check because he/she/they were also away somewhere. In any case, for anybody to have usefully been on tide-watching duty they’d have had to be at the basilica before 6:00.
Please recall that January 6 was Epiphany, and a Saturday, so plenty of workers and employees of all sorts were probably still enjoying the Christmas holidays.
By the time that personnel at the basilica realized that nobody was coming to insert the barriers to block the tide, the church was taking on water like H.M.S. Indefatigable after striking the reef. The narthex was flooded.
Whoever left the barn door — I mean, basilica-gate — open must have spent a lively interlude in somebody’s office on Monday morning attempting to explain. Anyone listening at the door might well have heard one phrase shouted for 15 minutes: “You had ONE JOB.”
20 Comments
Alas…..January 6 is a cursed Date no matter what continent you’re on and particularly here in US.
However, in spite San Marco vs Acqua Alta, it was so good to read another one of your entries. It’s been quite a while. And in spite of the clown show in many a bureaucracy …. I miss Venice.
jean
Thanks for writing that, Erla! I didn’t even want to get into it.
Buon Anno, Cat
Photos are missing from this post. There are none.
Click on the title, Maggie, to open the post in your browser instead of reading it as email.
Where was the ragazzo who stuck his finger in the hole in the dike, thereby saving his nation from inundation? Oh, wrong country, never mind.
As noted by the commenter above, January 6 seems to be a date destined to live in infamy on your continent as well as ours.
Thanks for the post, Erla, and Buon Anno a te e ai tuoi cari.
Barbara
Thank you for the post Erla. Always enjoy them. What may seem tedious is still fascinating to me.
Oh my! Like playing wackamole! I was there that week of December 6, 2008 and what a crazy mess it was, we had to be carried out of our hotel’s lobby (it was horribly flooded) and into a water taxi when we tried (successfully) to catch our flight home from the airport! Quite an adventure! It was the highest level that year, but it’s been worse in subsequent years. I love the way the tides rule the in & out breath of Venice and how its citizens just “go with the flow”!
What are the odds of discovering a person I know (sort of) whom I didn’t know (you) who had experienced that particular acqua alta. Amazing coincidence! As for the citizens going with the flow, people adapt to wherever they are. Seems normal anywhere, no? What’s the element where you are? Wind? Blizzards? Heat? Volcanic eruptions? Curious to know.
Sigh. Was that unexpected? Alas, no. Still, we stay and survive. Hope all is well chez vous and that 2024 will be kind to you. Have been missing your posts – they remind me that I live in Venice (sort of). And as there seems to be a slight lull in the tourist hordes, I’m actually coming in more often these days….
“A chain is only as strong as the weakest link” they say or perhaps “the best laid plans of mice and men does often go awry”. I hope someone, somewhere, gets the chain of command correct for the next time.
The problem, I guess, is similar to what we have just seen in Sweden when a blizzard jammed the E22 route. Half a dozen of different public offices sat quietly on their hands assuming it was someone else’s responsability to call them into action. Sadly nobody did until the mess was total and some people had to spend the night in their cars. We have myriads of public officials crawling over one another as the locusts of Egypt but when they might be useful they are mostly busying themselves with examining their navel-lint. “Sweet lord Moses, give me strength” as my grandmother would gasp when the situation so required.
Great to hear from you again anyway and wish you all the best for 2024.
Ah, dear. Who would have guessed that would happen…? Sorry you have lost your appetite for writing these posts, Erla. I haven’t lost the appetite for reading them, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. But maybe you’re busy writing your book 😉
Why are people employed by local authorities so pathologically useless. Another very informative post that, as Julie J, says above I always look forward to reading. As I only go to Venice once a year your letter really does help me, and I have no doubt every many others, keep in contact with the grand olf lady of the Adriatic. If you can spare the time, do please keep writing them.
Thanks so much — I am going to try to get back in the groove. It’s becoming a bit of a challenge to find new subjects, to be honest. But I will do my best.
When I first spent time in Venice in Februay of 1974, I noticed that at high tide, puddles of water would simply emerge from the cosmatesque floor inside the basilica, and disappear when the tide receded. In October of 2013 I found the narthex and piazza flooded, but no puddles in the interior, which was puzzling. It makes me wonder if they elusive “they” found a fix for that.
I worked for decades in museums, which required 24/7/365 awareness of what was going on, and leaping out of bed at 2:00 a.m. in response to a (false) fire alarm, or (real) hurricane, frozen and ruptured pipes, etc. etc. When an entire city is a historic site…
I look forward to hearing your observations on the redirection of cruise ships, and how the visitation quotas for this summer’s weekend play out. There seems never to be a fix in life without an unintended consequence.
And a happy new year and good health to you and yours!
I can’t explain why there wasn’t any water in the narthex though I’m happy to hear that that happened (or rather, didn’t happen).
Your experience in museums would give you a better perspective than mine on all this, but I still think that if there is a predominating threat it should be foremost in the supervisor’s mind. I have done idiotic things in my life, but nothing that involved world monuments.
The absence of cruise ships has not, as far as I can see, produced any positive effect on anything, starting with the fate of the families whose livelihood depended on the cruise industry — farmers, suppliers, transporters, etc. etc. More and more day-trip launches lumber to and fro all day, creating hellish motondoso (never caused by cruise ships) and bringing endless waves of tourists even for only a few hours. I will be interested to see the total tourist numbers for 2024, and maybe 2023, if I can find the time. My sense is that removing the cruise ships has had very little influence on the quantity of visitors. I have said it before, but will repeat: Cruise passengers account for less than ten per cent of total tourist traffic here. Hate the ships if you want to, but not because they are bringing unbearable numbers into the city, because they do not. But on we go.
Meanwhile, thanks for the good wishes, and happiness and health to you and your family in 2024.
Thanks, Erla, for sharing with us another of life’s “Truth is Stranger than Fiction” moments.
Good to see you back on-the-air.
Poor beautiful Venice: can’t something go right for her?
I suppose the laws of probability (or whatever they’re called) will make something go right, kind of randomly. It most likely won’t be something that matters, but yes, it would be very nice to see something go right. I’ll try to stay alert to see it.
Let’s look on the bright side: how charming it is that the flooding in the narthex mirrors the mosaics of The Flood. And, to continue this desperate positivity, isn’t the endless complaining about the hordes of tourists just as tedious as the hordes themselves? The good thing about the hordes is that they in effect encourage the non-horde people to venture out for their walks in the early part of the day (yes, I know: when the beautiful sewage pipes are strewn about the streets to carry their toxic materials to the stinking barges). And the occasional bungling by people of the ONE JOB sort occurs everywhere – every reasonably alert person should have some complaints about how their city or town is run. So let’s not be negative.
Tremendous blog site Erla, treat it as a hobby and just do posts whenever you wish. No pressure.
So good to read and view your thoughts about Venice and the various woes it is increasingly subject to. We too were in Venice at about the Christmas 2008 wetness, and felt so sad about what we saw. The very first time we went to Venice we stayed very close to St Mark’s Square, since then we’ve always stayed further up, “just in case”, and know many routes to try and avoid Aqua Alta, even though often you cannot avoid it.
So glad you’re back. We’ve all missed you.
Ella B