Dream Boat on Arno” captures the soul of a forgotten Florentine fantasy, one that still shimmers on the river’s surface in memory.
A Floating Dream in 1930s Florence
In the heart of the 1930s, when Florence was an elegant open-air salon under the stars and the Arno felt more like a stage set than a living river, someone dared to imagine a wild and magnificent dream: turning it into a luxury cruise route. It wasn’t a poet’s fantasy, but the concrete vision of a former colonel with bright ideas—Amedeo Sacerdote.
His project? A sleek 18-meter-long motorboat that would glide effortlessly between Florence’s riverbanks. Its name? Fiorenza—a name already brimming with elegance, pride, and ambition. And thus began the legend of the Dream Boat on Arno.
Building the Vision: Piece by Piece
Although not built in Florence, Fiorenza came to life at the Picchiotti shipyards and was transported in pieces to the banks of the Arno, near Lungarno Serristori. There, amid chisels, hammers, and the stunned looks of onlookers, she was assembled like a giant nautical puzzle. From this spectacle emerged the queen of the Arno.
On September 15, 1932, to celebrate the birthday of the Prince of Piedmont, the Fiorenza made her debut: a sparkling cruise complete with live music, lavish tables, ladies in silk, and gentlemen in white jackets sipping champagne as the boat slowly glided between Ponte Vecchio and the Pescaia.
For a moment, Florence became a floating little Paris—Dream Boat on Arno come to life.
When Elegance Meets Irony
However, no fairytale is complete without its comical twist—and the Fiorenza was no exception. The river was shallow, muddy, and infested with swarms of fierce mosquitoes. The journey, just a kilometer and a half long, felt endlessly slow.
When the propellers scraped the riverbed, stirring up foam and muck, the ever-ironic Florentines mockingly nicknamed the elegant vessel Raspamota—which roughly means “mud scraper,” a cruel jab at the grand dreams weighed down by shallow waters.
Reinvention and Resistance
Still, the colonel did not give up. He transformed Fiorenza into a floating restaurant, anchoring her in front of Palazzo Corsini. He even tried evening entertainment: jazz concerts, romantic dinners, moonlight soirees. Yet mosquitoes don’t care for swing music, and as the novelty wore off, guests began to stay away.
The spell was broken. Florence’s Dream Boat on Arno started to fade.
The Last Voyage: From Florence to Turin
With a heavy heart, Sacerdote disassembled the Fiorenza and moved her to Turin, where he renamed her Vittoria!—hoping for a new beginning along the Po. For a while, it worked. The ship hosted elegant dinners between the Murazzi and Moncalieri, a grand lady of another era dancing once more.
But fate had other plans. Costs were high, earnings slim. In 1938, Sacerdote removed the motors, left the hull behind… and when a flood came, the boat sank forever.
A Memory on the Water
Today, only a few yellowed postcards, some blurry photos with lights reflecting on the river, and a whispered memory remain. The Fiorenza was a bold, visionary, delicate experiment—a theatrical flourish that lived only for a few seasons, yet told more about Florence than any newspaper could.
It was a city unafraid to dream, even when the water barely reached your knees. Anyone who gazes upon the Arno today can still imagine her there: silently moored, lights twinkling, a distant accordion playing, and a liveried waiter serving oysters amid a swirl of mosquitoes and a wistful waltz.
And yes—Dream Boat on Arno lives on in the hearts of those who still believe in impossible beauty.
Learn More
To dive deeper into the history and charm of Florence and the Arno River:
