We picked up our 36-foot, British-built, diesel-inboard cruiser in Chioggia, the region's principal fishing port at the southern end of the lagoon. The massive fish market here opens at 5 a.m., and the port's deep-sea gillnetters dwarfed our boat. Yet our craft was as roomy as a large RV: a 13-foot beam, cabins fore and aft, a full galley, and a small salon. Up top were a large sundeck and a secondary helm. We spent the first afternoon of our weeklong rental under the watchful eye of Marcello Padoan literally learning the ropes, poring over charts, memorizing navigation rules, and taking a short test drive. We rocked in half-sleep with the predawn wake of the big fishing vessels, and by the time we set out after breakfast the next morning, ours was practically the biggest boat left in the harbor.
The Venetian Lagoon, off the Adriatic Sea, stretches about 32 miles north to south and less than six east to west, with Venice emerging from the waters at the center. At a maximum speed of six knots (about seven miles per hour), it took 2 1/2 hours to reach the city. The leisurely cruising speed allowed ample time to admire the brightly painted houses of the small fishing villages on the lagoon side of the barrier spits and to get accustomed to following the ''briccole" -- the lines of three pilings attached in a pyramid that separate the navigable channel from the shallows.
''Give everyone priority," Padoan had said of the steady stream of ferries, cargo boats, seine netters, trap tenders, and cruise ships along the route. ''They are working and you are on vacation." Moreover, he had warned, ''if you think you have time to cross a channel in front of a big ship, you do not."
