Author: Gianluca Citi
Once again, I let the alarm go off while I get ready. My bags are packed, my tanks are charged, and my parents have warned me I'll be late. I get in my car, the fourth since I got my license. I have everything I need to forget the world. My usual doubts and insecurities remain with me: have I remembered everything? Are the tanks really charged? I mentally review every detail, not wanting an "unexpected event" to ruin my day.
The direction I take is north, destination the cliff south of Livorno “Calafuria”.
I've been diving in this area forever. My group and I have inspected the 17 dives leading to the sea, identifying the ones best suited to the sea conditions, the time of year, and our available time. I dive primarily from shore because that's the only way I can feel like a pioneer of diving, navigating the challenges that an organized facility (and there are some in the area) necessarily solves.
This stretch of sea offers me everything I need. The dive begins as soon as I leave the car; choosing the descent and the route are the first steps. Loading up your backpack and harnesses, paying attention to where you step, and finally slowly descending the reef, immersing yourself, with every step, in a unique and wild environment. Then comes the actual dive, the long fin stroke to reach the dive site, the anticipatory descent to the bottom, accompanied by the soothing sound of our regulator.
Calafuria offers nothing. The water is often murky, and the currents sometimes try to cause problems. However, its seabed offers unique scenery: coral, gorgonians, sponges, seagrass, and other marine life await us on the seabed. Pelagic fish are rare, but that's all due to the fishing that's still permitted, and traces of them, you see, are visible in some abandoned nets on the seabed.
It was during one of these trips, exploring Calafuria, that years ago we discovered the remains of an ancient Etruscan shipwreck, a thrill that marked a journey back in time. Suddenly, we relive a tragedy from many years ago. The ship, at the mercy of a storm, becomes unmanageable, the crew terrified, the roar of the waves crashing on the rocks drowns out their screams; then everything is sucked into the sea and all that remains is silence. We asked ourselves a lot of questions and found answers, and since then, every dive has been charged with even more magic; it was like finding a message in a bottle, someone who wanted to communicate with us from another time.
Now it is more common for us to notice these messages coming from the depths, to find and recognize traces of a distant past.
The Magic of Calafuria continues on the ground in endless chats and meetings on the trail of those who, like us, embarked on a journey 2000 years ago.
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