The Crystal Ship

We live in a California home built in 1948 – not exactly a tract house, but a typical post-war home with three bedrooms, one bath, wooden sash windows and 7 ½ foot ceilings.

Our home away from home, our apartment in Rome, was in a 16^th century building with walls 2 feet thick, shuttered windows, and a rooftop patio. I stopped Donald one morning as we exited the door to the street, to take a photo of him closing the front door: green double doors with brass doorknobs in the center of each.

That night, when I reviewed my photos of the day, I was surprised to see that next door there was an antique store. We had arrived after a 20 hour transatlantic flight, exhausted and bleary. The next two days, we had been intent on our plans for the day. We had not noticed the antique store.

So, on day four in our apartment, I purposely stopped to look in the window of our neighboring antique shop. Hanging prominently in the window over an Italian inlay desk, illuminating baroque frames and silver candlestick holders, was the chandelier of my dreams: a chandelier in the shape of a ship.

This spectacular piece reminded me of the Santa Maria, the flagship of Columbus’ fleet, with three masts, a long bowsprit pointing off the prow, and an aftcastle rising high in the back. It was a chandelier designed to inspire the imagination. I looked up the Santa Maria on the internet that night and it matches the chandelier– it is a carrack, the ship that first sailed to the New World. The first ship to circumnavigate the globe in Magellan’s fleet was also a carrack. The carrack was the ship of the Age of Exploration, the ship that changed history, and this chandelier had the potential to change my life.

It was about 3 feet wide, not counting the bowsprit, and hung at least four feet from ceiling to keel. It was massive, and it was amazing.

Our imaginations were on fire. We named it “The Crystal Ship”, and began to imagine bringing it though customs. How much must it weigh? It would never fit in the luggage compartment of the jet. It would have to be shipped to California. And then, a little math. With 7 ½ foot ceilings, a four foot high chandelier would actually be sitting on the dining room table. Is the table even 3 feet wide? We would have to hang the Crystal Ship so that it sailed the length of our table. If we put all the leaves in the table, maybe we would be able to serve 4 to 6 people, clustered in two groups at each end of the table. We would dine in the dazzling light of the Crystal Ship.

But then there was the question: how much would such a fabulous crystal ship chandelier cost?

We didn’t want to know.

Every day we stopped at the window and contemplated life with the crystal ship. We never entered the shop, and never asked the price. We are changed, though. The Crystal Ship will be waiting for us in Rome, calling us back. It is like the Trevi Fountain – because we have seen the Crystal Ship, we know that we will have to return, some day, to see it one more time, and imagine.