Year 1975. These seven 15-year-olds (future champions) sailed up the Tyrrhenian Sea starting in Naples

Seven 15-year-olds from the Circolo Italia competitive team, just out of school, set off on an adventure. It is their first cruise without parents, from Naples to Santa Margherita Ligure, 330 miles up the Tyrrhenian Sea. Their last names are de Angelis, Signorini, Perrone Capano, Mango, Perriello Zampelli, Berardinone, Magri. They do not yet know what will become of their lives “when they grow up,” and more importantly, they do not know that they will become sailing champions. A story of teenagers at their first sailing maturity test, the tale of how sailing was done 50 years ago. But also an affirmation of the excellence of the Neapolitan school, where people went out in training from October to May under the loving and stern gaze of talent discoverer Gennarino. A school of sailing but also of life. It was 1975.

The book Rèfole, tales from the sea (Yachting Library) by Roberto Perrone Capano, from which this article is taken, is a fresco of Neapolitan sailing from the 1970s to the present. As the author writes, “…it is a collection of tales from the sea that has as actors my fellow adventurers and the rèfole, that is, the puffs of wind when it blows with varying intensity.” A must-have volume for sailing lovers. It can be obtained by emailing: yachtinglibrary@itheritage.net

A mythical cruise

July 1975, 15-year age maximum for seven boys from the Circolo Italia competitive sailing school. Dr. Mario Perlingieri, fellow friend, gentleman and sports and cultural patron, decided to sell his Swan 41, a Sparkman & Stephens design and Finnish build by the Nautor Swan yard, a bit like the Rolls Royce sailboats of the late last millennium. His boat, Rocambole, measuring nearly 13 meters, was to be transferred by sea to Santa Margherita Ligure, Nautor’s base in the Tyrrhenian Sea, where a lady with velvety manners, Ivana, masterfully managed the wishes of the owners of the exclusive “Nautor’s Swan” club.

Gennarino, captain of Circolo Italia, gathers seven volunteer greenhorns from his social drifts, EJ class, who have recently finished school: Francesco de Angelis, Bernardo Magri, Alberto Signorini, Sebastiano Perniello Zampelli, Stefano Mango, Andrea Berardinone, Roberto Perrone Capano. Captain Claudio Bettini, 25, a man from Paolo Signorini’s Magia II. Enthusiasm was through the roof; it was everyone’s first sailing cruise, aboard a Swan: an unmissable opportunity! The appointment was set for an afternoon in early July, at the dock of Circolo Italia, with Claudio, the chosen captain.

Homemade galley

Each of us brought something for the table as a dowry from home: rustic omelettes, baked pasta, meatloaf. All prepared by the mothers of Naples, unforgettable both their figures and those dishes, cocktails of art and love.

From my home, comes a dowry of a caciocavallo podolico from Corato (Ba), spicy and good, obviously with a “marked” aroma. After the first taste, the syndicate on board, composed of Stefano, Andrea and Alberto, between jokes and laughter hoists it to the masthead. Decisive hints below deck were rightly to be avoided. The alternative would have been sacrilegious: fish food! The provolone immediately took an important place in the history of the cruise, and then of the social dressing room. Back to the dock.

Claudio Bettini is not to be seen, cell phones did not exist, the Club phone did not ring: what could have happened? Worry and anxiety begin to creep in: they will not have cancelled our cruise: The Club is deserted, we are somewhat in control of all the outdoor spaces: few staff, no Members at the top to supervise us, so enthusiastic revelry for all. The sun sets, but going back to one’s homes is an option not even remotely considered. We set up camp on board, assigning ourselves berths without protest. None of us has ever sailed and slept aboard such a beautiful boat: wheel steering covered in gray buckskin, teak on deck, Lewmar gear, B&G instrumentation and a large SSB, almost a carriage-green locker next to the chart table The watchword is not to touch anything, until Claudio had arrived; backed up by a succinct “he who breaks it pays.”

The club next door, the Canottieri Savoia Yacht Club, after the August 23, ’43 bombing that had destroyed the Santa Lucia area, retained a terrace at dock level, more than 20 meters long, almost 10 meters wide, paved in polished marble. Said and done, that evening the terrace was cleared of chairs and tables in a flash. It became our ball field, soon lit by stars and moon, with the seven boys heedless of the glass windows bordering the north side of the newborn sports field by the sea. The only obstacle was the wire support for the awnings, at that time in their resting position, which prevented crosses and high balls. The constant excitement, combined with the fear of the continued absence of our Captain Bettini, prevented us from sleeping; it was white night for everyone. Claudio’s ears must have been ringing for days. No music, just shouting and joking, with endless happiness and a mini-accident: Stephen suffers an unintentional trip, his chin ends up on the white marble and splits bleeding. Match suspended! The fear of returning home and suffering a ban from the start suggested Stephen not to return to report to his parents, and that cut without stitches, healed slowly, still marks his underside.

After dawn came the start time for the sailors and staff of the St. Lucia Circles. We trusted that that gesture would melt our fears, that the long-awaited phone call would come. Gennarino, our oracle, to whom Bettini had reported a delay of about 20 hours, also arrived: the cruise was safe, our happiness intact.

First stop: Ischia

In the early afternoon we set sail: Maronti beach in Ischia, after only 18 miles of sailing, and first fabulous beach stop. The fantasy and illusions of the seven teenagers consisted of the purpose of embarking some German tourist, perhaps a little uninhibited, since Ischia at the time was crowded with foreign tourists devoted to spa treatments. A foregone conclusion, that is, a big hole in the water of that bay to the west of the island of Ischia, today hardly accessible because of the buoys that protect it. The energy of the 7 boys then gave birth to another whimsical idea. Since the SW wind enters that bay from the S-SE, even though offshore it blows west, and a technical stop was planned at Ventotene (full west) for ease of refueling, it was decided to raise the Spi by hauling the heavy anchor by hand, which was then to be lowered to the bow through the deck hatch. Swans, Nordic boats, were in fact not equipped with an anchor locker. Our boarding in a carrying gait lasted very few minutes, just long enough to get out of the bay and make the imaginary German girls realize what an opportunity they had missed. Then just upwind, against the wind.

Ventotene and “its pusher”

At Ventotene, about 20 miles further west, while refueling with naphtha and provisions, we were approached by Carmine, the Charon of the harbor, probably the island’s small pusher. With the silhouette of a Riace bronze, a single oar to move his little boat of a few meters, crammed with merchandise and foodstuffs, he peered at that unlikely crew, and whispered: coke, soft drinks, homemade cakes, hashish, marijuana, greedy things?! And Sebasthoeni, nickname for Sebastian, from the bow as he secured the mooring bollards, “Thanks, with ice we’re okay.” General uproar of laughter at the harm of the blameless “Seba.”

The third stage at Gorgona

Third stop the Marina of Cala Galera. Then sustained westerly with rough seas between Argentario and Elba, with reefers around the rotating boom and safety belts: partly for fun, partly to keep Claudio Bettini calm. Next on the docks of a deserted Porto Azzurro, for pizza at the evening electric oven on the pier, and more holes in the water, in the sense of female conquests. Then into the roadstead at Gorgona, south side, for a dive on the island that houses a very inaccessible maximum-security penitentiary, under the banner of the saying: radio on, and if they don’t turn us away … we can anchor!

The arrival in Santa Margherita Ligure

A wonderful first cruise, an everlasting memory immortalized by Sebasthoeni’s Polaroid. I do not know what memories Claudio Bettini will have, but we will question him soon, he always very autonomous and hard to find. The landing in the Ligurian harbor took place in the middle of the night, with the boat with the engine off and stationary in calm wind to figure out which was the lighthouse in the Santa Margherita harbor among a myriad of lights, with the brown book of lighthouses and beacons consulted by Claudio as if it were the Gospel. Electronics did not exist; it was perfectly normal not to know where one stood, where to land on the coast. It was Gennarino’s to direct and bless the program, which today would appear daring or even crazy, but at the time was very normal seafaring school.

Credit to our 14 parents, for authorizing the most exciting cruise of a lifetime: 15 years do not return, and the cheerful company melted many small fears to the seven teenagers, greenhorns, at their first real test of maturity, only nautical.
W Rocambole, birthplace of a bunch of sailors who have kept a lot of promise, in a sporting and professional sense.

Who are the protagonists of this adventure

1. FRANCESCO DE ANGELIS (Naples, 1960) The first non-Anglo-Saxon skipper to go to the America’s Cup final, with Luna Rossa in 2000. One of the most successful Italian sailors in history: six world championships, he was on Brava first at the 1989 One Ton Cup and in 1995 when Italy won the offshore team worlds, the Admiral’s Cup.

2. ROBERTO PERRONE CAPANO (Naples, 1959) He began winning in 429s in 1976 and has not stopped since. Prominent in his endless amateur resume are victories in the 1980s with the J24 and in the early 2000s with the X 41, both “Le Coa Hardi.” Gold medal for athletic prowess in 1987. He still goes on the drift Flying Dutchman.

3. ALBERTO SIGNORINI (Naples, 1961) One of the Italian amateur phenomena. Won world championships in the 420, Farr 40,X35 and with the Italian team at the Sardinia Cup. Great rival of de Angelis at the world championship in Cabri of the J 24 in the 1987 world championship. Gold medal for athletic valor. Still racing with “barges” at the Swan Cup, Giraglia, etc.

4. BERNARDO MAGRI (Naples, 1960) He was part of the “litter” of budding talent that took on the Flying Juniors of Circolo Italia in 1975. Then Laser, Soling, J24. But also lots of offshore sailing with Fantasqua, Magia II, Sole di Giada, etc. Today he is an owner of boats with which he cruises.

5. ANDREA BERARDINONE (Naples, 1960- 1984) In 1976 he partnered with Stefano Mango on the 420 as bowman, participating in the Italian 420 Championship. Then he devoted himself to his other passion besides sailing, spearfishing, coming second at the Italian in 1982. He disappears in 1984 during a fatal apnea dive in Salina.

6. STEFANO MANGO (Naples, 1959) Designs boats: a life in racing, cruising, and transferring to seas around the world. Starting in 1975 with the 420, then crewed on the multi-winning X41 Le Coq Hardi in 2011/2018. Designer, builder, owner of Alisea, open 40-foot winner of Giraglia x 2 and Rome x 2 in 2007/2008.

7. SEBASTIANO PERRIELLO ZAMPELLI (Naples, 1960) Started in 1975 as bowman for Alberto Signorini first on the Flying Junior and then on the 470 where they were the strongest Neapolitan crew. Then on the Soling from ’79 to ’81. He stopped for study to get back on the boat in 1987 at the J24 Worlds and continued on offshore boats. Today he sails on the 60-foot Aleph.