The Dried-Up Waterway

If they were lucky, and the water in Venice's canals was clear enough, they could occasionally spot dolphins in them.

Those cunning creatures seemed to wear smiles on their faces. Sometimes, they swam up beside fishermen's boats to beg for food.

Pomona had heard that dolphins in some places cooperated with humans. They drove fish toward the shore, humans cast their nets, and some of the catch was given back to the dolphins. The dolphins of the Adriatic Sea only grinned foolishly, yet humans still could not resist feeding them. Being cute really was an advantage.

Saltwater crocodiles were not so fortunate. They were turned into handbags, shoes, and belts. Catching a reasonable number of them and killing two crocodiles for leather goods would not have mattered.

The problem was overhunting. At the turn of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, prices inflated faster than paper money could keep up. A councilman earned ten ducats a month. Veronese spent a year painting The Wedding at Cana and earned more than three hundred ducats—an average of twenty-five ducats a month, over twice a councilman's salary. A mercenary who risked his life earned one hundred and fifty ducats a year. The cost of keeping one painter could support two mercenaries, and that did not even include his painting materials or a barrel of red wine.

The rich came up with the trick of bricking up windows and painting fake ones to evade taxes. The empty treasury could no longer continue developing the navy. Columbus was Genoese; he not only discovered the New World, but also opened new sea routes, weakening Venice. After the fifteenth century, recruiting sailors became difficult. The risks at sea were too great, and no one would do it unless the pay was high enough. Furthermore, the invention of sailing