Viva San Pietro

Well, it’s about to begin again, the annual Gloucester bacchanal better known as Fiesta! It is a five day festival held on the waterfront that is a delicious combination of religious ceremony and drunken brawl. Mostly I stay home.

Among the Italian fishing community St. Peter is much venerated. He is their patron saint and who they call upon to guard them while they are at sea. St. Peter, and Our Lady of Good Voyage, are honored and prayed to and charged with the protection of those who spend their lives working at sea. It all began in 1927 when local fisherman Savatore Favazza commissioned a statue of St. Peter to be enshrined near the waterfront to honor St. Peter whose holy day is June 29. Out of that grew a series of novenas, public Masses, rosaries, feasts and the blessing of the fleet by the bishop. It is an ancient tradition in Europe. Actually, the original festivities are not dissimilar to the festival honoring St. John the Baptist among the fishermen of Brittany that I described in The Old Mermaid's Tale.

In my book Baptiste tells Clair about that festival and how happy he is that he was born on the feast of St. John the Baptist, coincidentally, June 28th, and was named for him. I actually wrote that scene before I ever attended Gloucester’s Fiesta but, once I lived here and had attended a few Fiestas, the scene came so much more alive for me.

Of course, over the years the carnival aspect of Fiesta has somewhat overshadowed the religious devotion. But the carnival aspect of such festivities has always been a much revered tradition in Old World Catholicism. The very word, carnival, derives from the Latin carne vale, “goodbye to the flesh”. Carnival is perhaps best known to most by familiarity with Mardi Gras as practiced in places such as New Orleans, Galveston and, of course, Rio de Janeiro. Mardi Gras, Latin for “Fat Tuesday”, is the final festival among the Faithful before the beginning of Lent on Ash Wednesday every year.

Of course the party aspect of it is what has attracted most people whether or not they are believers and know the reason behind it. Still, it is a time-honored way of celebrating the delights of the senses while remaining ever-mindful of the other side of life — momento morti.

Of all the traditions of the local Fiesta, the one I most love is when all the fishermen walk in procession carrying the statue of St. Peter on their shoulders. People throw flowers and cry “Viva San Pietro!” Hooray for St. Peter. Hooray indeed.

There is something inexplicably beautiful and touching about such displays of Faith. It always brings tears to my eyes. I grew up Catholic, had 12 years of Catholic education and, for the most part, had good teachers — priests and nuns of good, if not always admirable, character. There were a few who weren’t what one might have wished but it is important to remember that they are human and sometimes humans fail. Like many kids raised Catholic I drifted away and tried other religions or just not believing at all. Then one day I realized that, even when I supposedly didn’t believe, in the back of my mind was the hope God would understand that. And I knew that, ultimately, I believe — even when I think I don’t.

So tonight we begin five days of honoring St. Peter. There will be rosaries and novenas, parties, and dancing, prayers and drinking, greasy pole walks, seine boat races, masses and all sorts of carrying on. I’ll stick close to home — go to a couple local parties — and I’ll say “Viva San Pietro!” Thank you, Saint Peter, for saving all those fishermen — and lobstermen — and those in peril on the seas.

Thanks for reading and VIVA SAN PIETRO!