At dawn, when the boat’s engine cuts off in front of San Fruttuoso bay, silence carries a different weight. It is not the silence of the crowded beaches of Tigullio, but that of a cove that opens only from the sea or through a Mediterranean scrubland path: no roads, no cars, only the green-blue water that grows darker toward the open sea and the Benedictine abbey that emerges between the pines as if time, here, had decided to stop several centuries ago. Beneath that surface, at seventeen meters deep, there is another silent presence: a bronze Christ, arms raised toward the light filtering from above, motionless among the currents for seventy years.
Whoever dives for the first time at San Fruttuoso always tells the same sensation: the statue is not immediately visible. You must descend, pass the marker buoy, let your eyes adjust to the filtered light, and then, suddenly, the face of Christ emerges from the blue with an expression that divers describe as serene, almost waiting. It is one of the most intense encounters that the Ligurian sea can offer, and it is no coincidence that generations of divers, free divers and mere curious onlookers in boats continue to return to this bay that the Tigullio Gulf guards like a small submerged sanctuary.
A statue born from grief and the faith of divers
To understand the Christ of the Abyss, one must return to 1947, when a young diver, Dario Gonzatti, lost his life during a dive in the waters off Portofino. The news deeply shook the small but already active community of pioneers of Italian underwater diving, a world made up of few men, handmade equipment and a relationship with the sea that oscillated between science, adventure and real risk.

From that grief came the idea of placing a work on the seabed that would be both memory and protection: a sacred figure that would watch over those who descended beneath the surface for work, sport or passion. The artist chosen to create it was Guido Galletti, a sculptor who modeled a Christ with arms raised upward, in a gesture that is both blessing and call toward the light, toward the surface, toward life.
The statue was lowered into the waters of San Fruttuoso bay on August 29, 1954, in a ceremony attended by the community of Italian and Ligurian divers. Since then, the Christ of the Abyss has never left that seabed, becoming one of the most recognized symbols of underwater diving not only in Italy but in the world.
Duilio Marcante and Egidio Cressi: the pioneers who wanted the submerged Christ
Behind the creation and placement of the statue are two key figures in the history of Italian underwater activity: Duilio Marcante and Egidio Cressi. Marcante is considered one of the fathers of sport diving in Italy, a man who in the postwar decades helped transform what was a profession for a few specialists — professional divers, salvagers, coral fishermen — into an organized sporting and amateur discipline, with safety rules, training and a precise cultural identity.
Egidio Cressi, together with his brother Nanni, founded the company bearing their name in Genoa, which over the years became one of the leading global brands for diving and freediving equipment. This is not a minor detail: the history of the Christ of the Abyss intertwines with the Genoese industrial history linked to the sea, that distinctly Ligurian ability to transform practical knowledge of the waters — accumulated through centuries of fishing, shipbuilding and navigation — into technical innovation and enterprises that have brought the name of Genoa to the world.
Marcante and Cressi were not merely promoters of the initiative: their vision united the sporting dimension with the spiritual and community one. The Christ was to be a point of reference for all those who frequented the sea at depth, a gesture of protection shared by an entire community that was defining itself precisely in those years, for which the sea was at once work, risk and reason for life.
San Fruttuoso: the seabed and bay that preserve it
One cannot tell the story of the Christ of the Abyss without telling the story of the place that hosts it. San Fruttuoso is one of the most isolated and best-preserved inlets of the Ligurian coast, set between Portofino and Camogli, reachable only by sea or through trekking paths that cross the Portofino Park. There are no roads that reach here: this isolation has been, paradoxically, the best form of protection that the village and its Benedictine abbey could have had over the centuries.
The seabed in front of the bay descends gradually, with a first coastal zone rich in Posidonia oceanica — the marine plant that forms the so-called underwater “meadows,” fundamental for the oxygenation of the waters and for the biodiversity of the Ligurian Sea — then deepens toward the zone where the statue rests. At seventeen meters, natural light still filters well on clear days, and this is one of the reasons why the site has become accessible not only to divers with tanks but also to more experienced free divers.
Around the Christ moves fauna typical of the Ligurian Mediterranean: schools of sea bream, occasional encounters with groupers, and on the arms and surface of the statue have been deposited over time encrustation of marine organisms that have slightly modified its texture, making it even more part of the underwater landscape that hosts it, as if it had grown there together with the seabed.
How to visit the statue: tanks, freediving and boat trips
Anyone wanting to see the Christ of the Abyss up close has essentially two options. The first is diving with self-contained underwater breathing apparatus (SCUBA), organized by diving centers in the area — several can be found in Camogli, Santa Margherita Ligure and Portofino, with expert guides familiar with the site — who typically offer a boat trip to the exact point above the statue, followed by a guided descent. It’s a dive accessible even to those with basic certification level, thanks to the modest depth and usually calm conditions of the bay.

yoruno, CC BY 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
The second option is freediving: many free-divers choose San Fruttuoso precisely for the chance to reach the Christ in a single descent without breathing apparatus, an experience that is more intense and quieter, where the sound of air bubbles gives way only to the beating of your own heart as it slows underwater.
For those who don’t dive, there’s still the possibility of admiring the bay and abbey from the ferry that connects Camogli, Santa Margherita Ligure and Portofino to San Fruttuoso: you won’t see the statue, but you’ll still breathe in the atmosphere of a place that mass tourism has never really managed to touch, partly thanks to the lack of road access that protects the village.
Replicas of Christ in the world: a symbol that has multiplied
The symbolic success of the San Fruttuoso statue led over the years to the creation of several replicas in other parts of the world, often commissioned by local diving communities who wanted to evoke the same gesture of protection for their own seas. Replicas of Christ of the Abyss can be found, among other places, in the waters of Key Largo in Florida and in Grenada in the Caribbean, as well as other minor installations in various areas of the Mediterranean.
This spread speaks volumes about how the idea born in Genoa and in the Tigullio in the immediate postwar period touched a universal chord: the need, for those who frequent the sea at depth, for a point of reference that is both symbolic protection and memory of those who never came back to the surface.
The sea of the Genoese: San Fruttuoso beyond the statue
For those living on the Tigullio and in the Genoese Levante, San Fruttuoso is not just the place of the submerged Christ: it’s a destination that marks the summer, often reached with one’s own boat or a friend’s, bringing little more than a towel and some fruit on board, because on shore there’s almost nothing beyond the abbey and a couple of seasonal establishments. Some arrive early in the morning, before the tour ferries bring the first groups, to enjoy the bay almost empty and perhaps take a dive right above the point where the statue rests, even without descending all the way to it.

It’s a ritual passed down among families living between Camogli, Recco and Santa Margherita: the trip to San Fruttuoso is never just tourism, it’s almost a secular pilgrimage to one of the few corners of the Ligurian coast that has remained substantially unchanged, where the relationship between land, sea and faith — that of the Benedictine monks first, then that of divers — can still be felt naturally.
Practical tips for diving and visiting
To reach San Fruttuoso by sea, the main connections depart from Camogli, Santa Margherita Ligure and Portofino, with regular ferries in the summer season. Those who want to dive will need to contact one of the authorized diving centers in the area, which also handle safety aspects and the necessary permits for access to the site, as the area is part of the Portofino Park and subject to environmental protection.
The best time for diving is from May to October, when water temperatures are more favorable and visibility is generally higher. It’s still advisable to check weather and sea conditions on the day itself, because the bay, while sheltered, can be affected by sudden storms typical of the Ligurian Sea.
Anyone staying in Genoa can easily organize a day trip to San Fruttuoso by leaving early in the morning: just a short drive — just over twenty minutes — to Camogli, or a slightly longer journey to Santa Margherita, then the ferry, leaving the rest of the day to the bay and, for those who dive, to an encounter with the Christ of the Abyss.
A sea that protects its memory
The Christ of the Abyss is not a tourist attraction in the conventional sense: it is a living monument that continues to mean something to the community that wanted it and to those who, over time, have chosen to replicate it elsewhere. It is a sign of a Ligurian sea that is not merely a postcard landscape, but an element with which Genoese and Ligurians have always had a relationship of work, risk, pride and, ultimately, also of faith.
Staying in Genoa for a visit that includes a day at San Fruttuoso means choosing to experience the Tigullio not as a passing tourist but with the perspective of someone who understands that behind every corner of this coast lies a story, often a story of the sea and of those who crossed it, worked it, loved it and, sometimes, lost it. If this story has piqued your curiosity, our residences in the heart of Genoa are the ideal starting point to organize your days along the entire Riviera di Levante, from Porto Antico to the Tigullio.
If Genoa’s sea is calling you — the real one, not the postcard version — we are here, ready to welcome you in one of our residences in the heart of the city, the perfect starting point to reach San Fruttuoso and all the submerged and above-ground wonders of the Gulf of Tigullio.


