Travel: New Capri?

The old fisherman squinted through the hard Mediterranean light and bent his head toward the cluster of chattering tourists in the town square. “At least,” he said, “they’re better than prisoners.”

The little cactus-covered volcanic rock island of Ustica, off the northern coast of Sicily, was the scene last week of the 3rd International Underwater Convention, drawing 500 flipper-snapping, snorkel-bearing aquaphiles. The convention marked the emergence of a brand-new tourist resort, for until two years ago, Ustica existed almost entirely as a prison island; now Italian tourist agencies and promoters have dubbed it the “Underwater Capital of the World,” are busy publicizing it as the new Capri.

A perfect natural prison, too small (three square miles) to permit unnoticed escape, too far from the nearest land (35 miles) to swim, Ustica is believed to have begun its penal history in the 7th century B.C., when mutinous Carthaginian soldiers were exiled there and starved until they ate each other. After the Carthaginians came Greek refugees and Phoenician exiles—and so on down the centuries. Mussolini banished thousands of political opponents to Ustica, often as many as 1,500 at a time; many were homosexuals who swished through the city streets in lipstick and silk pajamas, performed dances by night or staged bloody knife fights. In the early ’40s Yugoslav war prisoners were crammed onto the island, bringing with them malnutrition and tuberculosis. In the ’50s they were followed by suspected Mafia hoods expelled from Sicily.

After 1956, prisoners (officially called “enforced sojourners”) were not locked up at night, began to mingle with the resentful islanders, were allowed to bring their families and even to take jobs. The natives, convinced that no tourist would come to the island so long as it held a single prisoner, signed a petition urging their final removal. By this summer, almost all the prisoners were gone, and, in response to a great, government-sponsored publicity campaign, masses of tourists arrived (15,000 so far this year). Ustica has few entertainments to offer them—not even movies—but it has fish-rich waters, deep blue grottoes to plumb, and long stretches of land to walk. Thoroughly pleased with the setting, the week-long International Underwater Convention stayed submerged long enough to let 24 spearsmen from seven countries compete for the underwater fishing prize, surfaced to present its annual “Golden Trident” awards to such notables as Dr. Jacques Piccard (for his underwater research) and to Sophia Loren (for being the first movie actress “to face the risks and discomforts of taking her art under water”).

Meanwhile, Giovanni Amato, the last prisoner left on the island, sipped chilled espresso as he watched the conventioners. “My family and I have enjoyed it here,” said Amato. “Of course we’ll return to Palermo when my five-year exile is up in October. But I’ll surely come back to Ustica for vacations.”