From the terrace of the Ambasciatori Hotel in Sorrento, Italy, soft swells of crystalline water call toward the expanse of the Mediterranean. Vesuvius looms to the north, stretching up into the clouds. I have logged many hours on this sea, cruising the coasts of Corsica, Sardinia, Croatia, the Aeolian Islands and Sicily. But even in this region that is always stunningly beautiful, many people consider Amalfi to be the gem.
I’ve visited the Amalfi Coast a half dozen times, by land or by boat. In July 2019, after a decade of discussing the merits of marriage, Giselle and I tied the knot on the bow of Roxane, a 153-foot sailing yacht, with the cliffs of Positano as our background. It wasn’t legally binding, but at that moment, I understood the depth of our commitment. Two days later, as Roxanecruised south on a passage to Taormina, Stromboli experienced its most significant eruption since 1930. Sailing through the summer night, we could see the orange lava pouring from the mountaintop. I wondered if it was an omen.
This time around, I brought my children, all in their 20s. It was Giselle’s idea to gather us for a week while there is still time, before the emerging responsibilities of their careers and relationships make it too difficult to coordinate. Having just completed 28 days cruising GiGi, our Grand Banks 47 Classic, from Florida to New York, I figured Giselle was ready for an itinerary that didn’t involve throwing lines, hanging fenders and taking on diesel.
I was wrong. I needed to secure a vessel big enough for a family of five to navigate the coast, swim the clear water anchorages, and then rinse off and change into dry attire for world-class meals. Consistent with my plan to saturate everyone with the Italian experience, I aimed for an authentic Sorrentine ride: an Apreamare.
The history of Apreamare goes back to 1849, when its founder, Giovanni Aprea, began hand-building fishing boats. More than 175 years later, the Apreamare Gozzo 35 is a stylish interpretation of classic Sorrento design, with a wide, stable beam and a rounded stern. Built in Sorrento and powered by twin Volvos, Ma Rose launched this year. She easily cruises at 26 knots with a maximum speed of 31 knots.
She’s the perfect day boat. Decks and toe rails are clad in thick teak, and there are cushioned sun areas fore and aft. An extended swim platform follows the curve of the stern, creating easy access and retrieval for swimmers. Capt. Nello Castellano and first mate Francesca Aiello of You Know! Boat Sorrento organized transport to the marina, and we set off along the edges of the cliff. We spotted famous villas and swam in the crystal waters.
Choosing to base in Sorrento facilitated family excursions beyond the ingeniously constructed beach club pier where my children enjoyed the bar tab they opened on my account. The Ambasciatori team’s warmth demonstrated genuine Italian hospitality at its finest. From their classic front desk, they wielded expertise and local relationships to grant us access to the region typically reserved for families who had lived here for centuries.
Each day began as white-jacketed waiters served bold americano that easily outpunched any stateside version of coffee. Italy’s finest breakfast offerings were organized across multiple tables: sliced fruits and figs, perfectly ripened; mozzarella; cured meats; eggs scrambled with provolone; and fresh-baked breads, pastries and tarts—enticingly presented, tempting us into tasting them all. Lingering over world-class food and views, we plotted our daily course to tour the towns, shop, dine and find the best gelato.
When we had finally worked off that morning’s breakfast, we turned the Gozzo back west toward the village of Nerano for an epic lunch at Lo Scoglio. We dined on sautéed vegetables straight from the De Simone family garden, on prawns and sea bass from the local waters, and on the perfectly simple and famously delicious pasta Nerano. Lo Scoglio was the place where my best man hosted the reception for our impromptu wedding. Bringing our children here was intended to complete the picture of how we came together as a family. Telling the story of that evening over rosé, I noticed Giselle welling up. Special words for a special occasion, which our children did not really hear because they were far more intrigued by David and Victoria Beckham at the next table. So it goes.
We explored the ruins of Pompeii, mesmerized by the aqueducts, gladiator arenas and phallic stone directional signs pointing to the ancient brothels where menus offering various sexual positions remain painted on the stone walls.
Later, we visited the romantic 13th-century villas of Ravello, easily the most beautiful, but also the most isolated of the major towns. The New Yorker in me was at first skeptical when our driver, Salvatore, offered to organize an “insider” farm lunch and wine tasting at Cantine Ida Giordano, a tiny vineyard in Tramonti. It turned out to be one of the most authentic moments of the trip: Seated among local residents, we enjoyed fresh focaccia, an assortment of cured meats, homemade pasta and sauteed vegetables from the family farm, all paired with the delicious wines of their vineyard. On our drive back to Sorrento, we passed through Atrani, the small town where Denzel Washington recently filmed the third installment of The Equalizer series—an amusing reminder of the mainstream world to which we would soon return.
On our last evening, I sat on the terrace waiting for my family to join me for dinner. I sipped a glass of fiano, an Italian grape varietal grown locally and crafted into a soft, beautiful white wine with a subtle dance of European minerality and the luscious hillside fruit. The sky was a calming post-sunset blue. My thoughts bounced around while my inner voice whispered that the trip was a great success. Good progress, as I don’t generally get much praise from that direction.
Relaxation is not my natural mode, but I’ve been working on it. I thought about Ravello, quiet, beautiful and famous for attracting artists and writers for centuries. Perhaps the perfect place to someday edit my novel. I thought of the fevered debates from the past week with my children concerning important issues like the best pasta, the best gelato and why it’s time for them to get off my health insurance plan.
In the land where the only choice is to slow down, I found once again that people are good and kind, and the Italians are more likely to take pride in their gardens than in more Western cultural priorities. Un marinario in Italia, it was good to again taste the salt of the Mediterranean, hear the language my father spoke, be surrounded by strangers who looked and moved like me, and who, assuming I was one of them, always began conversations in their language.
Perhaps I am, and con buona fortuna, some of them will remain my friends as I return to this coast on my journeys ahead.
This article originally appeared in the January/February 2026 issue of Passagemaker magazine.
