Ortelli has a perfect view of the operation from his office window in the port and high-resolution diagrams of every stage of the parbuckling project on his computer, which he is happy to show on an overhead monitor to anyone who asks. He keeps track of the salvage schedule, logging days they've lost to bad weather to make his own estimate about when the ship will finally be gone from his view.
"We need our island back exactly way it was before that terrible day," he says. He still recalls how many passengers slept in his office that fateful night, and he says he feels a personal responsibility to the islanders to hold Costa to its promise. "Everything must go," he says. "Not just the ship."
No matter what happens after the physical remains of the liner are gone, the islanders will never forget how their lives changed the night of Friday, the 13th of January, 2012, when 4,200 people spilled into their quiet port. Father Pasquotti estimates that more than a thousand of the Concordia's passengers have come back to Giglio since the accident. Many came to bring back the blankets and dry clothing that the islanders gave them the night of the disaster. Merchants along the port's main street usually know what belongs to whom by asking around. Giglio still has the feel of a small town.
In some ways everything has changed on Giglio, but a few things still remain exactly the same. Despite having one of the most technologically advanced salvage operations every attempted happening in the harbor, it is still impossible to buy an iPhone charger or camera battery anywhere on the island, or read the day's newspapers until the 9:00 a.m. ferry docks -- if someone remembers to send them over from the mainland. No one is ever in a particular hurry and the weather and food are just as wonderful as they were before the Concordia came to shore.